#and he loves mayonnaise too
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find me a guy who went to both Yale and Harvard, earned a JD-MBA, passed the New York State bar exam, studied Japanese history, trained and worked as an EMT, worked as an editor-in-chief and is now a political journalist/correspondent, founded a nonprofit while still in the eighth grade, performed stand-up comedy, is passionate about public service/upholding civil rights/environmental advocacy, champions the Democratic Party, is a water sports enthusiast, and who generally does not give a fuck about what dissenters say about him on the internet...
...and maybe I can get over Jack Schlossberg.
#jack schlossberg#typed this out instead of working on my case briefing#also he sings along to Pitbull#and he loves mayonnaise too#and he does accents impeccably#the bar is no longer in hell
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kento nanami would unconsciously close jars a little bit too tight due to his fear of spoiled food, causing you to need his help every time you wanted to access a jar he had used in the past. yet, he never realised how tight these jars were and the level of difficulty in opening it.
slowly, he started to realise a pattern. every single jar you'd ask for help to open, it would be a jar he had used recently. the jam he used to eat along with his bread daily, the jar of mayonnaise, every single other jar he had opened, you asked for assistance.
realising this pattern, he started loosening the jars by just a little bit every time he closes it. and you just stopped asking for help, that's when his suspicions were confirmed. you were struggling because of him...
a little voice in him tells him to tighten a jar once in while, to see you asking him for help as he desperately missed. but he just can't bring himself to consciously continue this behaviour, his love for you stepping over any personal need of his, knowing that in the end, a simple pleasure towards him could cause a debilitating stress towards you, he couldn't bear that thought.
#fumiliardrabbles#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#kento nanami#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#kento x reader#nanami fluff#nanami x y/n#jjk headcanons#jujutsu nanami#kento x y/n#kento x you#jujutsu kento#kento fluff#jjk kento#nanami kento#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami headcanons#min...drabbles
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just saw ur tags on the post abt adopting a tomcat and tears sprung to my eyes instantaneously!! love is alive
Thank you so much!! I am so glad that my tags were able to communicate how much I love my little old man Popeye. He is the light of my life
#asks#anonymous#We have an agreement with eachother#He gets the fat trimmings from my meals on days I have meat and deli meat on days I don't#Recently he's learned that if he meows loud enough (he is too old to meow. He wheezes at me) and pretends to chew#I will give him a little treat before it is treat time#I don't have deli meat rn so he's been getting mayonnaise#Cats really love mayonnaise for some reason#Also have a picture of my sweet baby. The light of my life Popeye#Words can't describe how much he means to me
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He listens while you yap
pairings: boyfriend! enhypen x reader | listener x yapper trope
caution: be prepared for their randomness (•‿•)
author's note: This is my first time trying something like this, and I thought, why not switch things up? If you enjoyed it and want more like this, just let me know! Happy reading!
permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n
HEESEUNG
You explained an article you found earlier and made an especially interesting point. “So, apparently, there’s this theory about how—wait, are you even listening?” you paused mid-sentence then glancing up at Heeseung.
He was just staring at you the entire time.
“Am I talking too much?” you asked, feeling embarrassed. Was he bored? You might have been talking for hours...well, you were.
“I’m sorry,” you added. Feeling guilty.
Heeseung tilted his head slightly. His lips formed a gentle smile that quickly made you feel comfortable. “No, not at all. I’m just listening,” he said gently. “You always have the most interesting things to say.”
You blinked. For a moment, you were caught off guard by his words.. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m just rambling about random stuff half the time.”
He chuckled softly while shaking his head. “Not to me. You make even the most ordinary things sound extraordinary. Like you’re breathing life into them.”
“Come on, that’s a bit much,” you teased though you were shy with his words.
He shook his head slowly. “It’s not. You could talk about the lifespan of jellyfish, and I’d still want to hear every word.”
You laughed. “Seriously? Jellyfish?”
“Yup,” he said with a grin. Heeseung’s eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t think you realize how much I enjoy hearing you talk.”
You looked at him for a moment. Your laughter turned into a warmer feeling. “You always know how to make me feel special, right?”
Heeseung smiled more. “I’m just telling the truth. You’re the one who makes everything feel special.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but grin. “You’re too good at this, you know. No wonder everyone’s always talking about how sweet you are.”
He lightly shrugged. “Only for you.”
JAY
You plopped down next to Jay on the couch, “Last night, I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup,” you said, not even glancing at him.
Jay didn’t even look up from what he was doing, though you knew he was listening. “Oh?”
“Yeah. And you were mustard. Which is weird because you’re usually mayonnaise in my dreams.” You said it matter-of-factly.
Jay glanced over at you and gave a small smile. Your boyfriend didn’t even question it anymore.
“Mhm. We were sitting on a picnic table, minding our own business,” you continued, staring blankly ahead. “Then this kid comes over, grabs you, and squeezes you all over a hot dog.”
“Of course,” Jay muttered, his smile still there.
“And then they grabbed me and put me on french fries,” you said, your voice now lighter. “But even though we were on different foods, we ended up on the same plate.”
Jay gave you a soft look. “Of course you did.”
“Yup. It’s like… no matter what, we always end up together,” you said nonchalantly. “Even if we’re on different things, we’ll always end up on the same plate.”
Jay didn’t react much, just looking at you with that same fond smile. “Ketchup and mustard, huh? That’s one way to put it.”
“Yep.” You nodded as if you were completely confident in the analogy. “It’s like fate, you know?”
Jay leaned back. “Fate. Of course. You’re the ketchup, and I’m the mustard.”
“Exactly,” you said, kicking your legs a little. “I mean, I’m obviously the star of the show, but you do make a good sidekick.”
Jay laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. “You’re the star, hm?”
“Of course,” you said, completely unfazed, “but you still belong next to me.”
“Right,” Jay replied with a small, affectionate smile. “Next to you, always.”
And just like that, he continues to look at you with the same smile as you continue to talk, absolutely in love with you.
JAKE
You were pacing around the room, hands gesturing wildly as you went off about the movie you’d just watched. “And don’t even get me started on the plot twist—like, I saw it coming from a mile away! But, still, how could they—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around it!”
Jake sat on the couch with one arm stretched across the backrest. “Go on, tell me more,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing.
“Okay, but can we talk about that scene? The main character falls—of course—and she’s like, ‘Save yourself!’” You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Like, girl, what? Just get up! Run with your friend! Why are you making it so dramatic?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly holding back a laugh.
You kept going, utterly oblivious to his gaze. “I mean, realistically, if I fall, I’m grabbing your arm and dragging you down with me. We’re both going down. There’s no ‘save yourself’ moment. You’re coming with me.”
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Good to know.”
“And the friend?” you continued, throwing your hands up. “She’s just standing there, like, ‘Noooo!’ for too long. Like, hello? Help her up and run!”
Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’d definitely survive in a movie.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you said, pointing at him. “I’m not wasting time with emotional goodbyes. We’re both making it out, or no one is.”
Jake grinned, his voice dropping just slightly. “So, you’d save me?”
You froze for a second before narrowing your eyes. “Obviously. I’d even ensure you didn’t trip in the first place.”
He laughed softly. “And here I was, thinking you’d be the one tripping on purpose just to get me to catch you.”
Your jaw dropped. “I would NOT!”
Jake smirked. “You totally would.”
“I’d be saving both of us!”
“You’re hot,”
You froze. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said.
Of course, he had to flirt.
You crossed your arms tighter, fighting back a smile. “Okay… what? That’s random. You’re distracting me.”
“That’s kind of my thing, isn’t it?” Jake grinned wider, tilting his head. “Admit it, baby.”
You shook your head with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” But the way your heart fluttered at his words? You couldn’t deny it.
SUNGHOON
You paced around the room as you got lost in recounting the day. “And I visited my parents today! I missed them so much…it was the best.”
Finally, you stopped mid-stride and turned to face him, hands on your hips. “Okay, are you even listening? Or are you zoning out again?”
You have seen your boyfriend zoning out often, especially in the mornings. You wouldn’t be surprised if today were one of those days.
But he chuckled softly, wanting to assure you. “I’m listening. I always do.”
You tilted your head. “Even when I’m rambling about stuff that’s probably unimportant?”
“Especially then,” he said, his dimples appearing as his smile grew wider. “I like hearing you talk. It makes me happy.”
Your arms crossed, though you couldn’t fight the grin pulling at your lips. “You like when I yap on and on?”
“Not the yapping part,” Sunghoon teased. “It’s the way you’re so happy when you talk. You’re glowing, and I can’t look away.”
That made your cheeks heat up. “I’m just telling you about my day.”
“I know,” he said softly. “But you light up when you talk about the things you love. I could listen to you all day. It’s comforting.”
“Comforting?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. Oh?
He nodded as his eyes began to soften. “Yeah. It’s like you’re letting me see a part of you no one else does.”
Your lips curved into a smile. “I never thought I’d be comforting while going on about my life.”
Sunghoon’s smile grew. “You’d be surprised.”
SUNOO
“…and I don’t even know why they didn’t just say that in the first place! Would it have been so hard? Honestly…” you trailed off, glancing at Sunoo, watching you with the softest smile.
You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asked, his smile widening.
“Like you’re completely entertained by my nonsense.”
“Because I am,” Sunoo admitted without hesitation. “I love it when you yap.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yap?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You go off about the most random things, and I love it. It’s my favorite background noise.”
You playfully gasped. “Background noise? You’re saying I’m noise?” How dare he?!
“Sweet noise,” he corrected, grinning cheekily. “The kind I never want to tune out.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the blush on your cheeks. “So you want me to keep going?”
Sunoo nodded eagerly. “Of course! Why do you think I never interrupt you?”
Tilting your head, suspicious. “What if I talk about like….I don’t know... talk about socks?”
He laughed softly. “You don’t realize how cute you are when you get all caught up in your little stories.”
You tried to fight the smile tugging at your lips but gave up quickly. “Fine. But you’re stuck with me talking forever.”
Sunoo’s eyes sparkled. “Lucky me.”
JUNGWON
You were sprawled on the carpet while Jungwon sat next to you, quietly listening with that ever-patient expression.
“…and I don’t get it! Why would you even bring a cat to a grocery store? What’s the cat gonna do? Pick out your produce?” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “Next thing you know, they’ll be pushing their pets in carts like it’s totally normal.”
Jungwon blinked at you. You can see his lips twitching.
You squinted. “You’re holding back a laugh, aren’t you?”
“No,” he said, lips pressed together tightly.
“Yes, you are!” You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re trying so hard not to laugh right now.”
He cracked. His shoulders shook as he let out a small giggle. But then it escalated. His hand flew to his stomach, and he was laughing so hard that he tipped backward.
“HAHAHAHAHA OH MY—AHHHH HA HA HA HA!”
You sat there, wide-eyed. “Is it that funny?”
He nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s not even the story! It’s you! You’re so serious about the ridiculous things—AHHH HA HA AHH HAHA—I can’t!”
You crossed your arms, pouting. “I was making a valid point.”
“I know, I know!” Jungwon wheezed, wiping his eyes. “But you looked so offended! Like, personally attacked by the cat in the store.”
“Well, someone had to say it!”
Jungwon shook his head. “You’re too much.”
You huffed. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Because you love me,” he teased, his laughter finally calming down.
You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” he said, still grinning. “Now, please. Keep going. I need another good laugh.”
NI-KI
You were going on about how your day went, and Ni-ki, leaning against the doorframe, watched you as he kept grinning. He wasn’t saying much but teasing you with every detail you mentioned. “Wow, you don’t stop talking, huh?” Ni-ki said with a smirk.
You raised an eyebrow. You do not want to back down. Especially to him. “I’m just sharing my day, okay? You don’t have to listen if it’s too much.”
“Oh, I’m listening,” Ni-ki said as he stepped forward. “I just didn’t know you had this much to say. You’ve been talking for hours, baby.”
You shot him a look, unfazed. “Oh, please. You know I talk plenty, just not to you.”
Ni-ki chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “I think you talk to me more than you realize. You just don’t want to admit it.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t know about that.”
“Uh-huh. You’re giving me the full lecture today. You can’t hide it,” he teased. “And honestly, I’m enjoying it.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to act indifferent. “Of course you are; you love it when I talk.”
Ni-ki shrugged dramatically. “Guilty as charged. Your yapping is one of my favorite things. Keeps me entertained.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he could get under your skin, even with his teasing. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
“Bring it on,” Ni-ki said with a wink, clearly looking forward to hearing all of it.
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fics#enhypen x reader#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung imagines#park jongseong x reader#park jay x reader#jay x reader#jay imagines#sim jake x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#jake sim x reader#jake x reader#jake imagines#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#kim sunoo x reader#sunoo x reader#sunoo imagines#yang jungwon x reader#jungwon x reader#jungwon imagines#nishimura riki x reader#ni ki x reader#ni ki imagines
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if you are looking for spencer and bombshell requests, what about the first time a girl flirts with spencer after they start dating, but bombshell is fully secure because she knows her worth and understands that he’s a catch? if you need more ideas i can squeeze my brain really hard
love ur brain pls keep squeezing it <3 fem!reader
You’re the cheesy girlfriend no one expects you to be. You change your phone contact for Spencer to ‘My Sweet Boyfriend’ with a heart, you hold his hand in stupid places (though you’d done that before, sometimes), you bring him coffee, you fluster when he kisses your cheek no matter your disposition —you're overwhelmed in the honeymoon phase, and everybody’s surprised.
“That’s not very cool of you,” Morgan says, having noticed your ducked head, your smile dripping with a private pleasure and your cheek still shining with Spencer’s quick kiss. He’s gone to find plastic cutlery.
“I’m not that cool when it comes to Spencer,” you say.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
Morgan is as pleased for you both finally getting together as anyone, even if he finds it foreign. It is weird to suddenly be openly in love with each other, and likely stranger for the team to see you in anything that isn’t total calm collection.
“He’s so lovely.”
“Yeah, I know,” Morgan says, more earnest now as he slaps a rolled sandwich down in front of you. “He’s a catch. I asked for no mayonnaise, was I supposed to do that?”
Emily tucks her seat in next to yours. “He’s totally trapped by that secretary again, I hate to tell you.”
You turn around.
“Why would you tell her that?” Morgan asks.
“What?”
You peer out of the office door, where Spencer’s being chatted to by a stunningly attractive secretary. She has dark skin and darker hair, alluring almond eyes that light her sweetheart face with a bright charm. “Oh, she’s getting prettier,” you say.
You’ve got Spencer Reid locked in. Nothing in you doubts that he’s currently infatuated with you. You don’t even care when he laughs at her joke, or when she dips her head bashfully toward him.
“You better go and get your man,” Morgan says.
“What for?”
“She’s flirting hard,” JJ says. She’s only just looked up from her phone. “He’s gonna start blushing.”
As if. You turn back to the table, unwrapping the paper from your sandwich with a happy sigh. Spencer looks so cute when he blushes, his cheeks turn pink and he smiles like he’s being tickled, it’s adorable. If that pretty secretary wants to do the hard work for you, it’s her prerogative. He’s your boyfriend.
“I don’t need to do anything, he’s fine,” you say.
You’re cutting your sandwich in half when you feel a presence behind your back. A familiar hand closes around your shoulder, a voice in your ear, “Thanks for nothing.”
You giggle at his embarrassed tone, turning your face up to his, immediately delighted by his pink-tinged cheeks and neck. “You looked like you were having fun!”
“You’re not gonna pretend to be mad?” he asks, leaning over you to open your sandwich. He pulls out a sad looking tomato and a similarly wilted slice of lettuce and closes it again. “Did you want a drink? I can’t believe you.”
“Spencer, did you want me to come and get you?” you tease.
“It would’ve been nice of you. Drink?”
You laugh again, tugging him down by the wrist. “No, Spencer, I don’t want a drink, just sit down. What was I supposed to do? I’m not gonna pull her off of you.”
“But why?” he asks, nearly not quite pouting. “She asked me if it was too hot in here for me.” He sits in the chair beside you, his hand dropping to the soft inside of your thigh as he leans in imploringly. “If you cared about me at all–”
Everybody laughs, including yourself. He’s clearly joking, and for once nobody on the team mistakes it for ineptitude, which seems to cheer him up. He gives your leg a rather bold squeeze considering who he is and where you are, and again when you gesture for him to lift his face to plant a kiss on the ridge of his jaw. “I do care about you, Spencer. Sorry I wasn’t jealous. Should we try again?”
He turns your face away from your coworkers, eye to eye. “You’re making fun of me.”
His hand trails to your elbow. “No,” you say, your skin tingling under his touch.
“I don’t believe you. And I know you need a drink, they didn’t send your bottle of water. I didn’t manage to find those forks, either.”
He gets up again. He hasn’t so much as glanced at his own food, patting your back in a promise that he’ll return before he edges out of the office and into the station’s bullpen. You take a smug bite of your sandwich. You can’t hide it.
“Told you,” you say once you’ve swallowed. You hadn’t needed to do anything, and you really aren’t worried about other women. “He likes me a lot.”
“Understatement of the year.”
You send Morgan a loving smile. When you glance over your shoulder, Spencer’s taking the long way through the office to the water cooler.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Pregnancy Cravings | Toji Fushiguro ~ the one where he tries your odd cravings
─➭ pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! wife reader
─➭ mentions of: reader is pregnant, anything pregnancy related, super fluffy, weird food combinations(?), toji is a lil meanie but he’s a good man here
note: i’m trying to get back into writing so i’m posting this draft i never finished
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Toji Fushiguro loves you with all he’s got and that’s a fact. He knows you like the back of his hand because you molded yourself into his and megumi’s life. So when you told him that you’re pregnant, he was practically holding back tears because he finally made what he wanted with you true.
Now going back to him knowing you like the back of his hand, that changed when you got into your second trimester of your pregnancy.
Your food cravings were the bane of his existence because of how much it changed your food choices. The things you used to like made you sick in an instant. The smell of pork belly bowl used to make your mouth water and now you turn green then run to the bathroom.
And don’t get him started on the weirdest shit you put together and that shouldn’t be together.
One time it was peanut butter and chicken. Another was vanilla ice cream with bacon bits on top, specifically from the diner that you and toji take megumi to during lunch. And this recent snack was another added to the list.
It was the ass crack of dawn when Toji woke up to hearing cupboards opening and closing, along with the fridge. He sighed as he rolled onto his back to see if you were awake but it turns out that you weren’t even in bed. To him that was an immediate sign that you woke up hungry and craving.
He throws the blanket off before getting out of bed to walk towards the kitchen. And sure enough, there you were eating a spoonful of god knows what.
“Doll…,” he quietly calls to you.
You let out a little squeak in surprise hearing the man’s deep but hot ass voice from behind you. “You scared me,” you whine with a pout.
Toji smiles as he walks towards you and sees a bowl in your hands and glides his hands on your hips. “What are you eating so early in the damn morning?” he grumbles.
“Watermelon,” you say as you lift the fork with a piece of watermelon to his mouth.
But there’s something on the watermelon. Toji doesn’t hesitate to form a scowl on his face seeing that there’s white stuff on top of it. “The fuck is that?” he deadpanned.
You roll your eyes because he’s being dramatic. “It’s good, trust me,” you say.
“That didn’t answer my question, babydoll.”
“Well, it tastes good so try it,” you bite back.
The man doesn’t trust you one bit because you crave weird shit but he can’t say no to you. So he silently answers you by taking the piece of fruit in his mouth.
And sweet god did that taste GROSS…
Toji spit it out into the sink he was next too before he could even get another bite in. “Was that fucking mayonnaise?!” he whisper-yelled, “Fuck, that was sour!”
You roll your eyes with pout because he was being unnecessarily dramatic and a bit mean. “Yeah, it’s that Kewpie mayonnaise…,” you say quietly.
“God, that was fuckin’ nasty,” he sighs aggressively as he grabs a water bottle to drink out of, “How can that taste good to you?” he says as he turns back to you.
You look up at him with a deeper pout. “Why don’t you ask the child that’s growing inside me. Jerk…,” you mumble the last part before waddling away with the bowl in your hands.
Your husband aggressively lets out a sigh as he rubs his eyes with the ball of his palms. “It’s too early for this,” he mumbled as he began to follow you out to the patio of your backyard. He leaves the screen door open to listen for Megumi as he sees you bundled up in the comfy lounge chairs eating the god awful snack in your hand.
He walks towards you in big strides as you ignore him and keep your eyes on on the backyard. He stands next to you waiting for you to acknowledge him but you still ignore him. You know he’s seething in his mind right now because he hates the silent treatment. It continues for another 45 seconds till a squeal was pulled out of you as Toji effortlessly picks you up just to sit himself back down on the chair with you on his lap.
And damn it, the man was warm. You didn’t bother to fight out of his hold because you chose to cuddle right into his chest. You nuzzle your forehead into his neck and position your fuzzy socked feet in between his thigh and the dip of the chair. You keep the bowl of watermelon on your lap to continue eating.
Toji was pulling the blanket that was covering over you to fit both of you as you got comfy on his lap. One of his arms wrap around your round tummy oh so gently to get you as close to him as possible. His other arm wrap around your legs to keep your lower half warm.
“I’m still mad,” you mumble softly as you shove another piece of watermelon in your mouth.
“I know, baby,” he smiles softly feeling you chew with your cheek against his chest, “I’m still a jerk but don’t be a brat and sit out here without me in the cold.” You smile at his “apology” as you continue eating with silence. Then you hear Toji sigh before he speaks again,
“Just so you know…I’ll always be grateful that you’re my wife and the mother to both my kids.”
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I’ve never had a particularly strong desire to get high. Altered mind states have always been somewhat unappealing to me. The only drug I’ve ever enjoyed taking was a prescription strength muscle relaxant that loosened all my knots at once and sent me into the boneless slumber of jello. Top marks.
But I have dabbled with pot. As I’m wildly sensitive to smoke my only recourse was to try edibles and anyone could’ve predicted this was a recipe for disaster. So here’s the story of the first time I got high.
Brendan was a major stoner. He was a high energy guy who loved hiking, had his shit together, and absolutely loved getting high and relaxing. One day he decided to make pot brownies. Brendan was an amazing cook in his own right but he came into my life at a time when I was eating mayonnaise sandwiches and started giving me real food so I viewed him as a paragon of cookery. He made amazing desserts. And he didn’t make a batch of no pot brownies.
I’d never had one of Brendan’s brownies, before, but dear god I wanted one when they came out of the oven in a waft of rich chocolatey smells. They were fudgey and perfect and all that I wanted in the world was to eat one. I watched him take a bite, burning with envy and desire.
Being high seemed like a small price to pay if only I could sink my teeth into the warm splendor of brownie. I came up to where he was sitting on the couch, slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hey. I want to try a bite,” I told him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” I was sure as fuck that I wanted that brownie in my mouth.
Brendan was sat facing the tv and held up his hand without looking so I could take a bite. I am not a creature of modest bites. And I wanted that brownie. I took a huge bite, carving into the interior of the brownie, leaving Brendan with a only a rim.
He pulled his hand back and saw the brownie crime I had committed and gave a resigned chuckle. “Well this is going to be fun.”
On one other occasion in my life I’ve tried an edible and there was a brief relaxed period before things went horribly wrong that made me think, this is probably where most people stop and enjoy themselves.
But on this occasion, the massive bite of brownie didn’t drift me slowly up through layers of being high. It skyrocketed me into high space with great prejudice. I have no memory of a middle point, I wasn’t high and then I was suddenly so high I couldn’t function.
I’ve heard people talk about paranoia. I didn’t have that. Some people mention nervousness, no, none of that for me. My mind was simply gone. A thought would blip to life on one side of my brain and fail to travel through the fog to find its conclusion. I couldn’t think. I wasn’t really experiencing sensation. I was nothing in the void.
When Brendan realized I’d been staring wall eyed at nothing for too long he said, “How are you doing?”
It took a long time to process the words and even longer to slur out, “I can see everything.”
I don’t remember him getting up and leaving, or waiting, or anything really. Thoughts flickered and died in my mindscape, meaningless and alone.
Then Brendan put headphones on me.
I was unable to conceive of anything as wonderful as music surrounding me, and thus began the only nice part of the trip. I might have experienced ego death but at least I had the ethereal sounds of Pure Reason Revolution to wrap myself in.
I’m not sure how long the nice phase lasted. But eventually something started going wrong in my mouth. My throat became uncomfortable enough to pierce the haze I was in. It was almost numb, and impossibly dry. I drank water to no avail. Finally I conceived of the solution. “Ice cream!” I demanded of Brendan.
He went to grab some and I was dismayed that when I took a bite the sensation in my throat intensified. “It made it worse,” I complained.
“Made what worse?” Brendan asked, because of course I hadn’t actually told him why I’d wanted ice cream.
When I told him what was happening he said, “Oh, of course ice cream is going to make cotton mouth worse.”
“Well then why did you give it to me!” I complained. He smiled fondly at my irrational grumping and got me more water.
Finally I’d had enough. Music couldn’t erase my discomfort, I was getting frustrated I couldn’t think but I was still high as balls and I wanted the night to be over. Brendan suggested I go to bed so I climbed up into my bed and lay there, uncomfortably high.
I couldn’t sleep. My throat was so cottony, a side effect I hadn’t known existed and I thoroughly loathed.
Then I thought: I could masturbate! Brendan had talked about enjoying that while high. I’d give it a shot. My body however was wiser than my head and was having none of this plan. It refused to respond, stubbornly insisting that now was not the time.
I doubled down, refusing to give up on this horrible idea and in a bitter struggle, and against my body’s own wishes, I produced an orgasm that rated a 0 on the pleasure scale. Something happened but it was like a resentful flex of muscles that stopped immediately.
Furious with the overall experience of being high I buried my head in pillows and finally slept. I told Brendan the next day about my attempt and he facepalmed so hard. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep! You were way too high to enjoy that.”
I grumbled and agreed that it was very stupid. I tried to weigh the single bite of brownie I had with the absolutely wretched hours of discomfort and while it didn’t quite balance it was still pretty close. It was a really good brownie.
#ramblies#funny#writing#ffs foibles#marijuana#it’s silly now that it’s legal in my state there’s so many ways I could try it now#but I have less than no desire to make another foray#funny story#drugs#Brendan
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As someone who grew up with 5 older brothers, I cannot help but think of how older-brother-coded both Dick Grayson and Jason Todd are.
(A/N: It’s not that I don’t love Tim and Damian also, they just give off more younger brother vibes to me. Also, I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, please don’t hate me if it’s not.)
CW: None, slight cursing.
So I proudly introduce as my first ever post:
Annoying Older Brother!Dick Grayson and Jason Todd Headcannons:
Batfam x gn!reader
Y’all ever come home from school excited for the leftovers that you’ve thought about all day and FIND THEM GONE?!?! Jason ate them. Just to spite you. And he won’t even play dumb about it either. He will admit it so carelessly.
“Did you put your name on it?” He’ll shrug with confidence. He gives no fucks. He needs that caloric intake.
Jason is that sibling who you’ll argue with until you’re blue in the face and then text you 20min later with no explanation, just: “food?”. (Said argument was probably about the leftovers btw).
And you’ll still go get food with him because, well, siblings.
Dick is an older brother in the way he’s not even the tiniest bit nonchalant. He will 100% tell the cringiest stories about you in front of anyone you bring home. Unapologetically.
Or drop you off at school with the most EMBARRASSING song blasting from the speakers. He lives for it.
Another thing about Jason? He will absolutely barge into your room, flex in your mirror, knock shit off of your dresser, throw something at you, and then leave. Completely unprovoked.
He probably even steals the current book you’re reading from your nightstand.
It will return a day later out of nowhere.
Imagine just chilling on the couch, scrolling on your phone and suddenly you’re bombarded with their presence.
“Is that a *boy/girl* you’re texting?” Jason will ask as he looks over your shoulder, knowing damn well it’s not.
But guess what? Denying it would just make it worse.
And of course, Dick would freak out.
Because why would his younger sibling be dating? You’re way too young; practically a baby in his eyes.
In the case that you’re actually talking up your latest crush, Jason would have the following reaction:
“I don’t give a damn who you date,” But give him ten minutes and he’ll hit you with the classic, “so what’s this kid’s name again?” He will be looking them up later.
I think Jason would try to be the brother who acts like he doesn’t care but would most definitely be over your shoulder 24/7 about a lot of things. Dating being one of them.
One time, my brothers shoved me into a box, taped it shut and then set me on the front porch. These two shitheads would do that— or something similar, like hanging you upside down from a grappling hook— and say, “It builds character.”
Ohhhh, that reminds me. You think the two of them are annoying individually. Think of them both TOGETHER.
You try to avoid being around the both of them at any given time, but it’s inevitable.
Like picture yourself coming home after fighting some D-list villain like Condiment King— because of course everyone else was busy— hoping that no one else is back from patrol.
But no! No, no, no. Why would the world ever want you to be so lucky?
In front of the Batcomputer sits Dick and Jason, there to witness your arrival in your mustard-and-mayonnaise-covered suit. Dick will at least attempt to hide the smile behind his hand.
Jason openly laughs his ass off. Tears will be brushed from his eyes as you glare at his shameless reaction.
“Well, I hope you were able to ketchup to him,” Dick cracks with a grin.
The sound of their laughter follows you as you retreat to the locker room, middle finger raised in their direction.
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Wonderful Tonight
Marcus Pike x Pregnant Female Reader - 18+
Summary: Marcus Pike takes care of his very pregnant wife, shaving her legs (and more) and then treats her like the delicious meal she is. CW: pregnancy, shaving, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected p in v (you can't get pregnant while pregnant, but all of you better be wrappin it up!), praise, pet names (baby, honey, etc.), multiple orgasms. This is fluffy romantic smut. AN: I write one piece with feelings and suddenly I'm Mrs Romance over here! I gotta say that I'm falling deeper and deeper for Mr Marcus Pike, JUST LOOK AT THAT FACE!!! I feel like their wedding song would have been Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton, hence the title. Thank you @syd-djarin for reading this over for me. @survivingandenduring, I'll be waiting for my edits lol. Dividers by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 3.9k
A faint groan stirs Marcus awake, he takes a few seconds to fully come to, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Trying to listen for that sound again, unsure if it was a dream or not. He reaches across the plush white bedding of the king sized bed looking for you, his beautiful and very pregnant wife, only to find the bed empty.
Usually, worry and panic would rush through him if you weren’t in bed, but you appear to be in your nesting phase and it hasn’t been unusual in these last few weeks for him to find you rearranging the nursery or ordering more things off Amazon at strange hours. You also seemed to have the strangest midnight cravings, like mayonnaise on ice cream, or there was that night he walked on you about to take a bite out of a kitchen sponge.
He sits on the edge of the bed and stretches, looking over at his alarm clock. 2:56 am.
The sound of you huffing and grunting floats from under the door of your ensuite bathroom. You sound like you’re struggling or in pain and adrenaline courses through Marcus as he hops up and rushes to the door. His mind racing to calculate the number of weeks pregnant you are and if it’s too soon for you to be in labour or not.
He tries the door handle to find it locked. “Babe?” He calls, rapping his knuckle in the door gently.
“Sorry. I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” you call back, your voice seems off like it’s laced with discomfort. It immediately sets his teeth on edge, you’re not fine, and according to his quick math you’re also at a point where you could go into labour and even though the baby would be a little early, they’d be past the danger zone and the baby would most likely be ok.
“Please open the door. You don’t sound fine.” He says softly, pushing the panic down like the trained FBI agent he is.
You’re quiet for a second before responding in a more stable voice, “Everything is fine. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Are you sure everything is ok?” He asks one more time, he knows your stubborn tendencies and how it usually takes him to ask three or four times before you give in.
It’s silent again behind the door. Just the sound of you huffing like you ran a marathon before a sad little ‘no’ leaves your lips. It simultaneously sends him into fix mode and breaks his heart. He hears your bare feet pad across the tile floor followed by the click of the lock.
He cracks the door slowly to come face to face with you in just your sports bra, naked from the ribs down. Your legs are slathered in raspberry and tangerine scented shaving cream and you have a purple razor in your hand. Your cheeks are pink with frustration and the exertion of trying to bend down. Your hair’s piled on top of your head, a few loose strands falling and sticking along the nape of your neck.
He leans his toned bicep against the doorframe, only wearing his tight black boxers, then crosses his arms and looks at you tenderly. His voice is soft and full of love as he says, “Oh, sweetie. What are you doing?”
The tears of frustration start to pool along your lash line. “I’m gonna give birth and I can’t be a Sasquatch, but I can’t bend over without feeling like my lungs are being crushed by my giant belly.”
Marcus cups your face, wiping away the stray tear and bringing your eyes to his. “Honey, you’re not a Sasquatch. And even if you were, they’re doctors. Come here,” his hand trails to the nape of your neck and he pulls you gently into him, wrapping both arms around you and tucking your head into his neck, “They’re not looking at your leg hair. They’re focused on you and the baby.”
You relax into his arms, belly pressing against his abdomen comfortably. “I can’t go into labour like this,” you say, anxiety wavering in your voice.
Marcus drops his arms from your body and slides past you, slipping his boxers down before stepping into the large, glass walled shower. He turns the nob that controls the rainfall shower head and crooks his fingers at you as a silent call to walk to him.
When you reach him, he starts to unzip the front of your sports bra. “What are you doin’, Mr Pike?” You say softly over the soothing sounds of the shower, watching his thick fingers pull the zipper down.
“I’m shaving Mrs Pike’s legs,” he says as you look back up at him. His chocolate brown eyes soaked you in and made you weak in the knees.
“Marcus, you -“ he cuts you off as your sports bra hits the floor.
“I promise to love, cherish and treasure you,” he starts, lightly pulling you into the shower. He always recites his marriage vows when he can sense you’re about to fight off his help. His way of reminding you that he wants to be there, wants to care for you. He continues his speech as he leads you to the wooden bench, “In all circumstances; good or bad. Forever. Without hesitation or keeping score. From this breath, until my last breath, you are my wife, my love, my partner, and my equal.”
He steadies you as you sit before taking a knee in front of you and smiling up at you sweetly.
“Thank you,” you whisper. It’s the middle of the night and this incredibly sweet man doesn’t even question or fight you. Just supports and loves you with his whole being. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Baby, you’re growing a person for us. You deserve so much more,” he holds his palm out and you place the razor in his hand. His other hand wraps around your swollen ankle lifting it to rest your foot on his knee. Before you can say much he starts making slow, gentle strokes of the razor up your leg.
You’re both silent for a moment, him lost in the sight of your soft skin as he shaves your leg, you lost in him and the way he’s looking at you as he drags the sharp razor so tenderly across your skin. The steam from the shower wraps around the two of you, encasing you in your own little cloud. The rest of the world and all your worries are temporarily blocked out until all your thoughts are just Marcus. Sweet, loving, emotionally available, Marcus Pike.
He reaches for the detachable shower head and drizzles warm water down your shin and calf, using his free hand to rinse away the excess shaving cream. You go to move your leg away but he grabs your ankle to keep you there. After switching off the water he puts it back and looks up at you, placing a light and lingering kiss on the inside of your knee before placing your foot back on the warm tile floor and grabbing the other ankle.
The shaving cream has washed away from the steam and backsplash from the rainfall behind Marcus, so he grabs the bar of soap and lathers up your leg. You watch again as he focuses all his attention on carefully shaving your other leg. Using the same little strokes, rinsing the razor more often than you would if you were doing it yourself.
After rinsing off the excess soap he glances up at you. “Better?” He asks soothingly.
“Ya,” you say, trying to convince him that your legs were your only worry, but he knows you better than that. He knows that when you flick your eyes away from his and your spine just slightly stiffens you want to ask something but are afraid or nervous to.
“Honey, what else do you need?” His hand kneads the swollen and sore muscles of the calf that’s still propped on his knee.
“Well…” you trail off as you start to blush.
“Mrs Pike. Are you going to ask me to shave your pussy?” He says with a devious little grin. Eyes lighting up like a horny teenager, placing your foot on the floor.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say quickly. “I’m just worried that -“
He lightly covers your lips with his palm and Reminds himself to stay calm. he’s thought about how sensual it would be to shave your most delicious areas, but he knows you have some insecurities about body hair, and he didn’t want you to think you had to be clean shaven for him to find you sexy. Because truthfully, you could be a Sasquatch and he’d still want you. “Oh no, baby. I want to. I really REALLY want to.”
You lightly kiss the inside of his palm as he smiles hungrily at you. Just as your insecurities start to cloud your thoughts Marcus places his hands on your belly and rubs gently. “For the record, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, clean shaven or not. I love the taste of your pussy when it’s like this, it’s sweeter and feels soft against my skin. Plus, I love the way you cry out when I tug on it. So don’t think for a second that my excitement over getting to shave her means I prefer it that way. I don’t. Ok?”
You crash your lips into his, tangling your fingers through the slightly outgrown hair at the nape of his neck. He tastes like toothpaste still from before he went to bed as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, his soft wet tongue swiping against yours. The two of you stay like that for a while. Lazily making out in the middle of the night in the shower. His hands trail from your belly to your back, gently massaging the muscles of your lower back and then your hips.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you catch your breath. “I’m going to get a new razor and your special shaving cream. Ok?”
You nod against him. “Are you ok on the bench, honey? Do you need a towel to sit on?”
“No, I’m ok. We can move if the ground is uncomfortable, Marcus.” He’s always beating you to ensure the other is comfortable.
“Be right back,” he winks. You watch him walk out of the shower to the vanity. The water droplets on his back run down the toned and slender muscles that line his back, they catch in the curve of his ass before running down his tight cheeks. You find yourself squeezing your knees together at the sight of your naked husband. He truly is so beautiful, inside and out.
He slips back into the shower and kneels before you, sitting back on his heels. “Slide to the edge, baby.” His hands come to your hips, guiding you forward. He licks his lips and looks up at you through his thick lashes, big brown eyes dancing softly around your face. “Spread your legs for me.”
Normally, saying something like that would sound dirty, or like a command, but it floats gently over the splash of the shower. Soft, caring, and so sweet that you melt back onto your hands, parting your knees wide for your husband. His eyes glaze over slightly as his lips part, your glistening soft folds on display for him. He blinks a few times and takes a slow breath, reaching for the shower head again, cupping the water in his hand and drizzling it along your pussy. The breath catches in your throat, something about this feels incredibly sensual, and it doesn’t help that Marcus is looking down at your pussy like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Is the water ok? Not too hot?” He asks.
How did you get so lucky, but more so, how did anyone divorce this man in the past?
“It’s perfect. Thank you,” your voice waves, it’s breathy and full of arousal. He blinks up at you and smirks. He knows this is turning you on, and he plans to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as possible.
He applies the cream and grabs the razor, popping off the flimsy plastic guard before getting to work. His hand rests above your mound, pulling back gently to make the skin taut. He uses little strokes, rinsing the blade between each swipe of the razor. You close your eyes and let your head fall back as he continues. Once he’s removed all the hair from the top, he rests his hand on the now smooth skin just above your clit and gently pulls back. A soft whimper passes your lips, he’s so close to your most sensitive spots. But he said he’d help you shave, so he continues, swiping the razor in the same short strokes down one lip, and then the other. By the time he’s done, your breathing is rapid and shallow.
“You doing okay up there, baby?” He asks, placing the razor on the bench beside you.
You moan a soft ‘mmmmm-hmm’ as he reaches for the detachable shower head. You open your eyes, watching as he tests the water on his hand and wrist before holding the stream over your pussy. You gasp at the feeling of the warm water pressure flowing over your now swollen clit. Marcus smiles up at you, the dimple on his cheek forming and setting you on fire. He clicks the button on the side of the shower head, increasing the water pressure and holding it closer to your core.
“Marcus,” you whimper, leaning back further. Gravity lolling your head backwards.
“That’s it. Just relax, honey.” He says in a hushed voice, his free hand gripping and massaging the soft skin of your inner thigh higher and higher until he’s at the top. His thick middle and ring fingers coming to tease around your entrance.
“Oh god. Please, Marcus.” You say through bated breath. Your swollen breasts and belly rise and fall with your pleas.
He dips the tips of his fingers inside you, feeling your walls pulse and flutter. Taking his time to slowly fuck his fingers into you, inch by inch. Slowly. Lovingly. All while watching how you react. Watching the way your mouth falls open, eyebrows raising slightly, lips going soft as you moan his name.
Once his fingers are all the way, he curls them forward just as he clicks the button on the shower head, increasing the water pressure to its highest setting. You let out a long, husky wanton moan that echoes off the black tiled walls. “Cum for me, baby.”
Your legs start to shake, as your body almost launches you towards your release. Every muscle seems to go slack and it waves through you, pleasure reverberating from your aching clit, spreading to every cell in your body.
“Marcus. Oh fuck. Don’t stop, Pike. Please.”
You feel lighter, even as your heavy belly bounces as you grind shamelessly into Marcus’s palm and the spray of the shower head. He feels the grip of your slick walled pussy start to relax as you crest over the edge of your orgasm and start to come down. He pulls the stream of water away from your clit, the warmth of his large hand cupping you, his two thick fingers still working you slowly to the bottom of your high.
“You’re such a goddess, baby.” He says proudly. The praise wraps around you like a warm blanket as he slides his fingers from you carefully. “I wanna take you to bed and watch you do that again.”
You find the strength to arch your neck forward and look at him. You smile sleepily and nod, allowing your beautiful husband to take your hand, shut off the water, and lead you to bed. Before helping you climb in, he moves his hands to cup your face, placing his lips against yours. His chest rumbles with a content sigh as your tongue swipes hungrily along his soft bottom lip. One of your hands scoops under your belly, lifting it to relieve the pressure on your lower back, the other reaches for his hard cock. You grip around the base gently and stroke him slowly, matching the energy of the kiss.
“Mmmm, I like that baby,” he says between kisses, “But I’m not done with you yet. Let’s get you into bed.”
You climb in as gracefully as possible, praying silently that you don’t look like those sea lions that you watched on your honeymoon in Alaska a few years ago. You lay down on your back as Marcus climbs on top of you best he can, stretching to keep kissing you, doing his best not to put any of his weight on your bump. This position immediately puts pressure on your body, making you feel short of breath.
Your hands push at Marcus and you sit up slightly, seemingly fighting for breath. “Ugh,” you groan frustratedly, “I can’t breathe like that. I’m sorry. This is so unsexy.”
“Unsexy? I’m rock hard for you,” he says, looking down and then back at you with a smile. “You lay how it’s comfortable, how about that?”
“Pike, I’m only comfortable on my side with that crazy pillow under my leg.” You say, defeated and anxious. “I need you though.”
He thinks for a second, chewing his cheek as he surveys the pillows available. “Ok, what if you lay on your side, bottom leg straight, top leg hooked up and resting on the pillow?”
You smile at him lovingly, “Is that really gonna be sexy?”
“Honey, I’ve never been more turned on by anyone in my entire life. You’re glowing. I’m amazed by you every day.” He fluffs the pillows around you as you turn away from him, bending your leg up as high as your belly allows. “Is that comfy, baby?”
His fingers trace up and down your spine slowly as your body starts to sink and relax into the soft mattress. “Yes,” you whisper.
His lips come to your neck, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, down your neck and then along the top of your shoulder, fingertips swirling along your back and ass cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning at his sweet caresses. His lips continue to kiss your skin and down your back, as he spins his body so his feet are at the head of the bed.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says into your skin between kisses. “So strong. So selfless. I love you so much, Mrs Pike.”
Your whole body seems to tingle with anticipation of where he’s going to kiss next, you feel his hair tickle the inside of your top leg as he maneuvers his head between your thighs. You lift your leg higher, desperate to feel his mouth on your already sensitive pussy.
“Please, baby,” you gasp, arching your back slightly. “I need you to…”
His warm soft tongue licks a slow and teasing stripe from your asshole to your clit. A tortured moan leaves your lips, hips bucking into his face. Marcus lets out a silent laugh at your reaction. He’s always loved how your body responds to him. The very first time he made you cum, both of you still fully dressed as you made out, hips grinding into his as you shook, he knew that he wanted to see that for the rest of his life.
“Good girl, let me taste it.” He laps at you again, still just as slowly but with more pressure. Asshole, to entrance, to clit. Once. Twice. The third time his thumb comes to press into your now dripping pussy, tongue flicking around your nub slowly and with perfect pressure.
“You taste so good,” he moans between licks. “Such a good girl for me. You’re gonna cum soon aren’t you?”
“Yes. Yesss. Don’t stop, Pike.” He doesn’t stop, he never stops. Not until you’re either begging him to or you’re pushing him away.
“Never, honey,” he mumbles into your wet folds, and that’s when the tight elastic behind your mound snaps, and you cum hard and loud. Your inner walls grip his thumb tightly, pulling it deeper.
“M-Marcus…hnnggg…oh my god. Yes.” You’re lost in the euphoria. Every ache and pain from your pregnancy is temporarily erased and replaced with nothing but pleasure. Sparkling, warm pleasure.
It slowly starts to become too much, slipping into overstimulation. “Marcus. Stop, baby.” He’s always in tune with your body, his thumb already starting to slide out, tongue replaced with light kisses.
You whine as he pulls away, already missing him and the intimacy. “Please fuck me,” you say over your shoulder, his blown out coffee coloured eyes almost black. He slips his body alongside yours, the arm closest to the mattress slipping under your head. He grips his dick with his other hand, pumping it while running it up and down your slit, collecting your arousal.
“Ready, baby?” Marcus asks, kissing the top of your shoulder.
“Just fuck me already!”
If you weren’t pregnant he’d flip you onto your belly and drive into you, probably pull your hair and tell you to cut the attitude. But he knows he has to be gentler right now, so he slowly pushes the thick head of his cock into you. Inching in slowly, almost punishingly. “Don’t be a brat, baby. You know we have to be softer right now.”
You wiggle your ass back, trying to get more. You need all of him. When he’s finally seated all the way inside of you he holds still, sucking on your neck. “Be good, or I’ll just stay like this all night.”
“No, please, baby. Please move.” Your belly makes forward movement impossible so you’re just pinned between your bump and Marcus. “Pike, please.”
He quickly pulls back to the tip and then slides back in. You cry out into his bicep. “Again. Please. Again.”
“Fuck, I love it when you beg,” he whispers, fucking in and out of you a few more times. It’s deep and slow, always with a little extra punch of his hips at the very end. “Sound so pretty when you moan for me.”
You reach down to rub your clit, him encouraging you with his words. “That’s a good girl. Touch yourself for me.”
It doesn’t take long before you’re both on the edge, ready to tumble over together. To get lost in each other's pleasure. He moans deeply in your ear, whispering praises as you cum on his cock, holding off as long as he can before you feel his warm spend fill you. You’ve completely melted for him, unable to move or keep your eyes open. You both lay quiet, his softening cock still buried inside you, breathing heavily together. You both drift off, spent and happy and so unbelievably in love that it’s hard to believe something like this can exist.
Marcus wakes up a few hours later still inside you. He slowly slips himself out, peels his body away from yours and tucks the blankets around you. He leaves you a little handwritten note that he’s going to get French toast and bacon from your favourite place.
Ya, it’s definitely hard to believe that a love like this is yours.
Taglist:
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag
@pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes
@jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense
@iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather
@ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69
#marcus pike#marcus pike fanfiction#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x you#marcus pike smut#marcus pike fluff#pedro is daddy#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal#the mentalist
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꒰ Foods that König would despise with his whole heart, no offense ꒱
Boiled Eggs: The smell of boiled eggs alone is enough to make König lose his appetite. He’d pinch his nose and avoid them at all costs. If someone ate one near him, he’d discreetly step back, not trying to offend the person eating it. He prefers his eggs scrambled.
Fruit Yogurt: While he doesn’t mind plain yogurt, the artificial fruit chunks in flavored varieties make him gag. He never understood the hype of that. Small chops of frut, flopped in that yogurt and all of that packed in a small cup. Disgusting...
Pineapple on Pizza: While he loves pizza and exotic fruts, the idea of pineapple as a topping is sacrilegious to him. The sweet and savory combo is too strange for his taste. If he orders pizza, he sticks to the classic, cheese, ham, tomatoe sauce...
Spaghetti with Ketchup: Another combo which doesn't make any sence to him. This dish, often served as a cheap meal, horrifies him. He thinks it’s a complete disrespect to pasta. “Where is the real sauce?!” he’d demand, looking genuinely offended like a real Italian.
Coffee: Despite his need for energy, König absolutely hates coffee. He’s tried to like it, but the bitterness always makes him grimace. He’ll politely decline every time someone offers it, opting for tea or water instead. If you drink coffee, he’ll side-eye your cup but kept quiet. Very polite...
Pickles: The texture and tangy flavor of pickles make his stomach churn. Just the sight of them sitting on a burger would make him wrinkle his nose. He’d carefully remove them and push them aside with a slightly disgusted face expression hidden behind his mask.
Mayonnaise: The texture and richness of mayonnaise make him feel queasy. He avoids it entirely, and the sight of it slathered on sandwiches makes him silently question people’s tastes. He would rather eat his sandwiches dry, than with mayonnaise ꒰I love mayonnaise btw :3꒱
Milkshakes: König can’t handle how heavy and overly sweet milkshakes are. The combination of creaminess and sugar makes him nauseous after a few sips, maybe even a stomach ache.
꒰ I'm going to run out of the ideas for my headcanons soon, so maybe stop by and drop an idea or two in my request box? I would love to wishful my readers wants :3 ꒱
#call of duty#cod#cod headcanons#cod hcs#konig#konig call of duty#konig cod#konig fluff#konig headcanons#konig cute#konig x you#konig fanfiction
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eddie munson with 90. "is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?", with fem!reader
I didn't use the exact line of dialogue just the concept, I hope you don't mind! I love this request though!!
warnings: just fluff and a wee bit of angst along the way, friends to lovers, 'unrequited' love (the love is requited they are just stupid)
100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!
"Admit it-- you'd let him do anything he wanted to you," Robin laughed teasingly.
"Honestly? Yeah, probably," you agreed as you bit your lip.
"What if he's, like, a freak or something?" she wondered. "Like what if he's into something really fucked up?"
"It would still be hot, 'cause it's him," you decided.
"So if he came up to you right now, and said 'hey, you're cute, wanna come back to my place and take a bath with me in a tub of mayonnaise?' you would..." she prompted.
"I would ask if he knows where I can get bulk mayonnaise for a discount," you grinned.
"Ew! You hate mayonnaise!" she grimaced.
"Yes, but I love him," you explained.
Just then, Eddie hopped up to your table, straddling one of the attached benches with a smile. "Woah, who do we love?" he asked.
"Eddie, you can't just barge in to a private conversation," Robin corrected with a frown.
"Private? I can hear the girlish giggling from the theater room," he scoffed. "Besides, I wanna know the gossip. You've got it bad for somebody?"
He looked around the room as if he would figure out who it was by examining the students, but Robin shook her head. "It's not, like, a real guy. It's her celebrity crush."
"And future husband," you beamed.
"Would I know who it was if you said it?" Eddie wondered.
You thought about not telling him, but it didn't really matter, because Robin blurted it out. "Probably-- it's Kirk Hammett, from Metallica."
Eddie's eyes went wide for a second, before he grinned and leaned one arm against the table. "I guess I should take that as a compliment."
You laughed softly in confusion. "What?"
"You know-- 'cause I look like him!" he announced excitedly.
Robin tilted her head as he stared at Eddie. "Oh yeah!" she said. "You know, now that you say it--"
"No," you shook your head, "you're not like him."
"Yes I am!" he laughed, though it sounded more like a sound of bewilderment than amusement. "Come on, are you serious? People say it all the time!"
"Well, they probably just say it cause you play guitar."
"And the hair?!" he yelped, shaking his mane around for emphasis which made Robin snort.
"Lots of guys have long hair nowadays!" you rolled your eyes. "That doesn't mean anything. Robin's blonde, doesn't mean she looks like Goldie Hawn!"
"Wait, I don't?" Robin asked sarcastically, feigning offence.
"It's not just that-- you seriously don't see it?" Eddie pouted. "Look at me-- I mean, really look at me."
You did, narrowing your eyes slightly as you examined him; he held his arms out as if to show himself to you, which did give you a better view of his arms and ink, but you frowned and shook your head. "I just see Eddie," you shrugged.
He deflated a bit. "Right, well-- anyways, did we get Robin to share her celebrity crush?"
"That was the next order of business," you explained with a smirk, and you both put your attention on the girl across the table.
"Nope-- my lips are sealed," Robin assured.
"If we can guess her name, will you tell us?" Eddie asked.
"No, I'll never--" she started to insist, but the two of you were blurting out names already.
"Brooke Shields!" "Kim Basinger!" "Ooh, Annie Lennox!"
"Guys," Robin groaned, rolling her eyes, but she was starting to blush, too.
~
You and Eddie were sitting side by side on the ground, backs leaned up against the outer wall of the school; his knees were bent and his arms were draped over them, while you sat with your legs overlapping as you tied wildflowers from the lawn into a daisy chain.
"You're quiet," you noticed.
"So? There's not much to say," he replied.
"When has that ever stopped you from running your mouth?" you smirked, looking up at him, but he wasn't smiling back at you so yours sank. "You've been quiet for a while."
"Guess I'm not that peppy today," he decided, staring forward at his fingers as he mindlessly spun one of his rings around.
"Not today," you explained, "like, all week. Is everything okay?"
He shrugged a little as if to say, it doesn't matter.
"Seriously, just talk to me," you pleaded. "Whatever it is, I wanna help."
"You can't help, okay?" he snapped,
"I can't stop thinking about what you said," he admitted. "When you and Robin were talking about your celebrity crush--"
"Listen, Eddie, I'm sorry if I don't see a resemblance, but it's not that big of a deal--"
"No, no, not that," he sighed, "I meant... what you said after. That you just see Eddie."
You knit your eyebrows together, not sure what he was getting at. He finally looked back at you, and the sadness in his eyes made your breath catch.
"That's all you're ever gonna see, isn't it?"
You sighed a little, looking away for a moment. "Ed, not this again--"
"C'mon, babe, you know I'm crazy about you," he sighed, tilting his head until it leaned against the wall behind him. "And I know every excuse you've given me-- you're not ready for a relationship, you don't want to ruin what we have, you don't want to bring me into your messed up brain-- but if you're into this guy who looks like me but you don't want me then... then it must just be that I'm awful, right?"
"Eddie, no," you denied with a pout, but he scoffed and looked ahead again.
"It's okay, I get it," he sighed. "I wouldn't wanna date me either. You deserve all the fancy stuff, y'know? Getting driven to cool dates in a nice car, hanging out at his house and not, you know, a dirty old trailer--"
"I don't want all that stuff," you assured, moving in closer to him. "I want somebody sweet and fun and smart--"
"I knew it's 'cause I can't fuckin' graduate," he mumbled, but you put your hand on his arm to get his attention.
"Eddie, you're not listening to me," you scolded. "It's not you, it's me. And I know that's a cliche but it's true."
"How can it not be me?" he rolled his eyes. "I'm a freak, and a fuck-up, and a flunk-out, and you're basically perfect--"
"Oh my god, you're, like, my dream guy, okay?!" you spat out, louder than you meant to. He finally shut up, and looked at you like he could finally see it-- like he finally knew. "I always liked you," you continued, a little softer and shier than before, "but I knew if I... if we ever actually, you know, went for it, I'd just mess it all up. And you're the last person I'd ever want to hurt--"
He cut you off with a kiss: a sudden, sweet, hungry kiss that caught you off-guard for a second before you melted into it.
It wasn't that one kiss could make all your fears about a relationship go away... but it sure could make them seem a lot less important. And it definitely could help convince you that it was worth the risk.
When he pulled back, he held your face even as you tried to look away to hide it. "Sorry," he said, taking his hands away slowly, "I just had to do that."
"Oh, Ed," you hummed, "you're so cute I could die."
He got a little red in the face, which only made the cuteness more apparent. "Aw hell," he snorted, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "You think I'm cute 'cause I look like Kirk?"
"No," you smiled, "I like Kirk 'cause he looks like you."
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Vil Schoenheit
A famous celebrity! He grew up in NRV when he was a child but moved with his father to the city after his dad hit it big. Has been an actor since young.
Moved back to NRV when he was older for peace and to escape paparazzi but is gone for the entire spring season every year for film shoots. He often expresses his dislike for being typecast as a villain.
He often helps promote some of the local farmers on Magicam if they impress him.
Seems to have taken a local farm boy named Epel under his wing as he sees potential in him.
He goes for morning runs nearly everyday, sometimes alongside Jack.
Holds film appreciation events with Ortho at the library every Thursday. Sometimes arranges plays for the children in town to act in too!
Loved Gifts: Smoothies. Universal Loves
“Looks like your taste in gifts isn’t as abysmal as your taste in clothing. Fufu, I’m kidding, thank you farmer.”
Hated Gifts: Any Unhealthy Food, Any Mayonnaise, Universal Hates
“Disgusting.”
Rook Hunt
A hunter who lives off of the forests! He does not own a house and nobody knows where he sleeps at night but he’s doing swell!
Good friends with Vil who often fusses over him. He’s also a ultra mega fan of his works as well as Neige’s. (Do not enter his tent; it is filled to the brim with limited edition Vil and Neige merch to the point he had to dig a hole in the ground to make more space).
Helps Trey out with his experiments every Friday and occasionally joins Vil and Ortho in the library for film appreciation.
Often digs in the garbage cans not for food but for information. (Bro has read every letter you’ve received).
Goes down to the mines sometimes to gather iron for his arrows!
Is often found just hanging out with Vil, down in the mines or in the forests hunting or foraging.
Loved Gifts: Liver Pâté, Bait, Royal Sword Cola, Universal Loves
“Beauté! You have captured one of my many hearts, Mon Trickster!"
Hated Gifts: Garlic, Universal Hates
“My, my, I’m afraid even prey wouldn’t take this kind of bait, Mon Trickster…”
Epel Felmier
A farm boy! His family owns an orchard that grows many different fruits throughout the seasons but specialises in apples! You buy most tree saplings from him.
Lives with his grandmother at the orchard and often helps out.
Vil (forcibly) took him under his wing and has been trying to correct his speech patterns.
He really wants to join the adventurers guild and explore the mines but he can’t get past Rook.
Plays rugby with Leona and Ruggie every sunny Sunday.
Sometimes helps Deuce out while he’s working on his motorcycle (He’s so hype about it).
Is often found around Vil and Rook or in the orchard.
Loved Gifts: BBQ Meat, Macarons, Wool, Apple, Universal Loves
“Yer the best farmer! But don’t tell Vil, got it?”
Hated Gifts: Pears, Universal Hates
“Dang, son of a- ahem… You can take this back.”
---
TWST x SDV Masterlist
Tag List (Interact with the linked post to be tagged in future updates mwah)
Tag List Below Dropdown
@coffee-or-hot-cocoa @neuvilletteshusbandd @multifandomlazywriter @whimsybloom
@petaled-pages @blerp-22 @lazy-raven @the-ghost-0f-t0m0
@iamlowkeycrying @sleep-ydragon @loopdydee @hrhqueenfox
@mielle-estelar @cerisescherries @asillysleepy @sarah22447
@iamstillalive158 @fatally-incorrect
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst headcanons#twst au#twisted wonderland au#night raven valley#twst stardew au#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#epel felmier#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader
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Some B.S.
(Steve x Reader)
Synopsis: after a dumb fight with your mom, you call Steve to take you away from your troubles
Warnings: not super proof read, mentions of dysfunctional family, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, Steve being an awesome supportive bf
A/N: don’t worry, I’m working on chapter four of In This World of My Own but this was kind of a vent post and I had to write it out :p don’t mind me
~~~
“Hey, can you pick me up?” you say softly through the receiver. “I need to get out of here.”
Your boyfriend clear his throat on the other end. He must have been asleep and now you feel bad for even calling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, half awake. “I’ll be over in ten, is everything okay?” Despite his sleepy state, he didn’t miss the the way your voice cracked; he knew something was up.
Sniffling, you shake your head. “I don’t even- frickinknow at this point.”
“Just hang in there babe, I’m coming to get you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He hangs up and immediately throws on a pair of jeans and his navy blue sweater which he’s come to understand is your favourite one whenever he wears it. Slipping on his shoes, he snatches his keys and jacket, and soon enough, he’s on his way to you.
~~~
Steve’s car is parked a block away from your house, the streetlights illuminating his prized BMW you’ve become so familiar with in the past few years you’ve known each other before dating. You approach the car with your arms tightly crossed against your chest, an action Steve’s come to associate with any time you feel upset about something- not in a childish manner, more so as a gesture of feeling small or remorseful about whatever just transpired, not that it was really your fault. Often, you usually only do it after you’ve had a silly fight with your mom.
Sighing heavily, you sit down in your designated spot next to Steve in the car, the warmth of it enveloping you, along with his scent which has brought you comfort countless times, including tonight. You reach over and give him a big hug and he wastes no time in holding you close to him.
He places a kiss on top of your hair while caressing it.“What’s going on, honey?” he asks softly.
You pull away from the hug and swipe a hand down your face, another sniffle escaping you. “It’s just…” you shake your head in disbelief. “It’s just another one of those- stupid fricking arguments,” you grumble. “Like, I can’t even- like-”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he coaxes gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Take your time.”
Curling in yourself, you rest your head against your knees. “Can we drive around for a bit?” you ask, your voice small and timid.
“Yeah, of course babe, where’d you wanna go?” He begins backing out of the parking space, putting a hand behind the head of your seat to make sure nothing was in the way, and then drives forward.
He sees you shrug from the corner of his eye before you answer. “Maybe we could stop for a milkshake?”
“Yeah? A milkshake?”
You nod.
He smiles in adoration. “Okay, let’s get you a milkshake.”
~~~
You end up parked on an empty street with your milkshake of choice in hand, the plastic cup cool against your palms. It makes you shiver, but the rush of sugar lets you ignore the cold sensation. Steve has one of his own, and occasionally you switch between the drinks to get a taste of the other flavour.
“Okay,” Steve starts gently. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”
You nod while sipping on the drink.
He waits patiently as you muster up your words, the soft look in his gaze never faltering.
“Okay, so basically…” you clear the sweet taste from your throat. “What happened… is honestly… so…” you pause in between your words, trying to find the best way to put it into an explanation. “Stupid. It’s just plain stupid.” Throwing your hands up in the air as a tell tale sign of exasperation, you continue. “And the thing is, and- this is honestly so hilarious, it’s the most hilarious thing ever, you’re gonna laugh- I forgot to put mayonnaise on the corn bits that were cut up for my brother!”
Steve blinks once in amazement. “I… what??”
You raise your eyebrows and nod. “Yup.”
“So let me get this straight: your mom got upset at you because you forgot to put mayonnaise on Donnie’s corn?”
“Yeah, and it was an honest mistake that I forgot! I literally forgot and it’s even funnier because I was gonna have my own corn on the cob with mayonnaise and I was ready to warm it up in the microwave! I didn’t even think twice, I just took his plate out when it was done warming up and I brought it to him, and then I was going to put mine in and then my mom saw and that’s when the whole thing happened. Honest to god.” You’re breathing heavily after all the words have spilled out in a rush, trying to make sense of things.
“I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, as if I can’t bring the plate back and add mayonnaise myself. Hell, Donnie can do it himself, he’s ten years old!”
Steve is staring into space as he’s listening; he’s trying to make sense of it too, he’s just as lost.
“Well, that’s not really the point, the point is I know Donnie eats corn with mayo, it’s common sense at this point, but I guess I was just so hungry that I was ready to put my own plate in the microwave. Again: without a second thought. I just forgot! But god forbid if I forget anything, it’s like the end of the fucking world. And it was for Donnie anyways! Not for her! I would understand if he was upset about it, then yeah, okay, but c’mon! Seriously?!”
Taking an angry slurp from your drink, you sink into your seat, feeling more worked up than you were before.
“I mean, yeah I get it,” Steve says, thinking of how to help. “If he was mad, then yeah okay, but it’s not like it couldn’t be fixed. I don’t get why she’s upset. If I was her, I wouldn’t even have you feeling the way you do.” He looks at you and rests a gentle hand on your cheek. “I would never put you through something like this over something so stupid.”
You scoff at the whole situation. “I know. It is stupid. It’s more than stupid, it’s- it’s bullshit!” Something clicks in your mind, and you can’t help but laugh. “She treats me like bullshit! She always always always has something to say! She always judges me and she loves to compare me to my sorry excuse of a dad.” The words roll of your tongue like venomous vigour and contempt, and in the midst of your rambling, Steve’s hand has left your face; he’s learned that when you get this way, it’s best to give you some space, he knows affection will be welcomed back afterwards.
“And obviously when I told her it wasn’t that big of a deal, that I could easily fix the problem, she got mad and said that I was patronizing her because I told her the same thing my dad always did: “it’s not a big deal.” Well news flash! It’s not! The world didn’t shut down, did it!? And I’m not my fucking father! I’m not! It’s like she only sees him in me, that’s why she always judges me and never sees me for me. To her, I’m only an extension of him, not separate from him, not as an individual, not as myself, just him.” Your chest is heaving up and down as you try to calm yourself. In a fit of rage, it’s like everything makes sense to you now.
Exhaling sharply, you take your boyfriend’s hand in yours and squeeze before letting go. “It sucks,” you tell him finally. “She’s never understood me. She doesn’t even try. But she’ll actively try to understand Donnie because she sees herself in him.”
You sit in silence for a little while to regain your tranquility, leaning your head against the dashboard. Steve is the first to break the silence.
“You know something?” he asks. “You’re right. It is bullshit. This whole thing is bullshit!”
You perk up at this but don’t say anything - he takes it as a sign to continue.
“It’s bullshit that she doesnt understand you, Y/n. I mean, I understand what that’s like, I mean my own dad is a complete asshole, and my mom well… I don’t know, she’s totally different from yours, but this isn’t about my family issues.” He takes your hands in his, causing you to sit up and take in his words. “It’s bullshit that she doesn’t think you’re a human being who forgets things. Sure, maybe you forget very often, but that’s not even bad. I would never hold that against you ever.”
Biting your quivering lip, you look away to avoid him from seeing your glassy eyes, but he gently tilts your face to look back at him.
“Baby, you are nothing like your dad. Not even a little bit. I know you hate being compared to him, and I’m sorry you’re constantly being misunderstood. I love you for you. I see you.”
Those last few words are what makes you let it all come crashing down as you cry into his chest, hands gripping the navy sweater tightly, hanging on for dear life. Heaving sobs rack through your body and bones as he holds you close to him and kisses the crown of your head, gently caressing your hair.
The milkshakes are long forgotten at this point, and as Steve keeps you close to his heart, he continues to remind you that he understands you, that you are human and make mistakes, simple mistakes like any other. When your crying dies down, you finally give him a kiss. You hadn’t kissed him since you set foot in his car. He kisses you back, slowly and softly, his hands cupping your face as he gingerly wipes away the remaining tears from your red cheeks.
The kiss is your way of telling him ‘thank you for being here, for understanding me’ and in reply, it’s his way of saying ‘I will always be here for you, no matter what.’
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington stranger things#hurt/comfort#fluff#slight angst#slight vent
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Haven’t been on in weeks but the first thing I see on here is how much yall fucking hate black ppl on the low and it shows. No the only black man in the sport is under no obligation to teach Leclerc about racism. That’s not his job. Yall will not use Lewis to launder Leclerc’s image. Especially fucking Leclerc of all people. Yall got too fucking comfortable on here and either forgot or are pretending not to remember what he did during BLM. The black people around u remember
Reminder that while other drivers just chose not to kneel or gave real neutral comments including Verstappen, Leclerc chose to tell the media how he didn’t support BLM bc those rowdy blacks were too violent and he didn’t like that
But he also didn’t like any civil protests either bc they were getting used by politicians even tho we were advocating for political change so we shoulda just stfu and kept getting executed ig
And then he went further and went on liking sprees calling BLM a Marxist conspiracy
And a Italian Fascist party declared support for him because he was the white saviour of Ferrari and that’s why he had to issue a statement about hating racism and “those groups” using his name. Those groups were Nazis loving him for not supporting Marxist BLM btw
Reminder that people spread rumours that Ferrari weren’t letting anyone kneel but then Seb kneeled.
Reminder that Leclerc’s younger brother who is part of the Ferrari academy kneeled.
U can like your mayonnaise man, but a black man is not an accessory for him. Lewis isn’t going to Ferrari to give his ass a redemption arc that he never earned. Remember that black people in ur life see and hear the shit u say. We remember.
#Fuck all y’all#Ik it took a lot for y’all to post a black square and call it a day#Don’t ever come around here with that energy#f1#lewis hamilton#charles leclerc#BLM
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Never Be Ashamed
Neteyam Sully x Pregnant Reader
Summary: he knows somethings up and he's about to get to the bottom of it.
Warning: none
3rd person pov
Neteyam had noticed that something was off with his pregnant girlfriend yn, when she started acting different around food. She would stare at the refrigerator for minutes, then close it and move to another. Or would suddenly ask for pickles and peanut butter, or worse, order pizza with ice cream on top.
One evening, as they were cuddled up on the couch watching TV, Yn felt a sudden urge to have her favorite snack.
But she was too shy to ask Neteyam for it. She knew how weird she sounded when she asked for it, and she feared that Neteyam would laugh at her.
Neteyam could sense that something was bothering yn. When he asked her, she hesitated for a moment before she blurted out her craving for pickles and mayonnaise.
Neteyam didn't laugh instead, he went to the fridge and brought a huge jar of pickles and a can of mayonnaise.
He also brought some crackers and chocolates. He put everything on a tray and brought it over to the couch.
Yn was surprised and touched by the gesture. Her eyes lit up when she saw the pickles and mayonnaise.
Neteyam could feel her body relax and her face light up with joy as she ate her snack. And he couldn't help but smile as she ate, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
As she finished her snack, Neteyam held her close and cuddled her. He told her how proud he was of her, and how much he loved her.
And as they held each other, yn knew that she had found the partner who would always support and love her, even through her weird cravings.
#avatar#avatar pandora#avatar way of water#avatar x reader#avatar fluff#avatar x reader fluff#neteyam#neteyam x reader fluff#neteyam x reader#neteyam fluff#neteyam x pregnant reader#neteyam x pregnant reader fluff
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Get to know your Mutuals
Thanks for the tag @perlen-gold, even though I’m just an unhinged follower obsessed with your writing 🙈 I started my own chain so your original post wouldn’t get too long.
What's the origin of your blog's title? My thirst for Adar and the gauntlet kink he inspired.
Favorite Fandoms: I have a lot, but The Silmarillion/The Lord of the Rings/The Rings of Power are my main ones I always fall back on.
OTP(s) + shipname: I’m a self shipper so me + whomever I’m obsessed with (currently Melkor, Adar, and Gil-galad) but also more recently:
Melkor x Mairon (Angbang)
Adar x Celebrimbor (Silverscars)
Favorite color: Orange (also partial to purple and dark green).
Favorite game: Hero Quest (I’m not a console gamer. Though I did enjoy watching my husband play Horizon Zero Dawn).
Song stuck in your head: Dog Days (Are Over) by Florence and The Machine.
Weirdest habit/trait? Oh boy, where to begin… I make random noises, I meep like Beaker to songs, laugh at my own jokes… I’m just a weird person altogether folks.
Hobbies: Writing, visiting places of historical interest, I also used to be an avid reader but then motherhood robbed me of my energy and concentration. I listen to audiobooks more now.
If you work, what's your profession? I write scientific reports and run data tables for an Early Drug Development CRO, which is as fun as it sounds. I’m also a mother. Everything you’ve heard about motherhood is true and also a lie.
If you could have any job you wish what would it be? I would be rich enough not to need to work 🤷🏻♀️ or working on a petting farm would be cute.
Something you're good at: Berating myself. Encouraging others/being a cheerleader. Also writing, I hope 🙈
Something you're bad at: Most things, but especially anything requiring mathematics or physical exercise.
Something you excel at: Being a silly goose 😏thirsting over fictional characters 🙈 and raging at injustices. Erm, I think that’s about it. How tragic for me 😂
Something you love: The community I’ve found here on Tumblr 🫶🏼 period dramas, Dracula, and tattoos (I have none of my own… yet).
Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Mormonism, The Wars of the Roses, the people I love.
Something you hate: Injustice, mayonnaise, and corsets improperly portrayed in period drama.
Something you collect: Cuddly toy bats, and more characters to thirst over (I need help).
Something you forget: That motherhood is difficult so to give myself more grace.
What's your love language? I don’t adhere to love languages, but I guess genuine connection over similar interests, banter/in-jokes.
Favorite movie/show: Aaahhh don’t make me choose! It’s always changing.
Favorite food: Galaxy Cookie Crumble, Mini Eggs, Yorkshire puddings, and pizza.
Favorite animal: Bats 🦇
Are you musical? I can hold a tune and I played flute as a kid, otherwise sadly no.
What were you like as a child? Intelligent, saw everything in black and white, more artistic, more outgoing.
Favorite subject at school? History and art.
Least favorite subject? Maths and PE.
What's your best character trait? I like to think I’m kind and understanding.
What's your worst character trait? I can be so incredibly lazy.
If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? More sleep. Always more sleep.
If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? Bram Stoker. I’d also love to meet my mum as a young woman, I think we would have had fun.
Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):
Come by @perlen-gold (Angbang)
Of Convenience by @greenleaf4stuff (Silverscars)
Last but not least, show your favorite fanart of your favorite character(s) (please remember to credit/add links!):
Melkor/Morgoth
Adar
Gil-Galad (TROP)
No pressure tags for @greenleaf4stuff, @valar-did-me-wrong, @strifes13, @wowstrawberrycow, @iwanderbecauseimlost, @withallthatisleftofmyheart, @calmlyy-chaotiic, @margauxmara, @varda-starqueen, @saffronstories, @gingeragenda, @gracefallingart, @dwarveslikeshinythings, @whenimaunicorn, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 and anyone else who would like to play! Sorry if I missed anyone.
#tag game#long post#get to know your mutuals#silmarillion#angbang#Silverscars#the rings of power#Adar#Melkor#Gil galad
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