#and when i finally watched it i was so shocked because literally every week you had memes taking such pleasure in seeing her kicked

[luvrodite]

thinking soo much how everyone on hotd twt and tiktok were so foul every week about alicent. the lack of empathy towards her character + determination to present her as a villain was so telling of a lack of critical analysis skills and black and white approach to characters. like i genuinely was so confused when i finally watched the show after weeks of seeing content in my feed about it because that was not what i was seeing

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3 pt4: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

[suguru-getos]

| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 2 |

-> Part 1

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna. Chapter Summary: After humiliating Gojo in the cafeteria, he has better ways to force pay-back. Hey! That shirt you ruined, was expensive.

Warnings: Oh he is a real piece of shit here with a barely there moral compass. Mentions of humiliation, bul!ying, belittling, teasing. The reader is slowly getting into an auto-pilot mode.

New chapter every week, comment down below if you want to be tagged! ^^

Taglist: @mc-reborn @tvdumarvelhpsimp @alula394 @getoxmahito @knanamii @he4rts444mi @localginger22 @animeisforkings @ran6ia @creative1writings @lenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @zoemaelol @shoutascoffeepot

It feels like pure humiliation, the way you walked off from the cafeteria. Satoru stood there, the warm, sticky gravy sticking to him. It feels like a sensory nightmare. White hot rage simmering through the very marrow of his bones. He exhales, glancing up just to see if there was anyone dumb enough to enjoy his misery he could stomp on. Nobody had the balls to, nobody has the balls to until you come across.

What was your fucking problem?

He walked away from the cafeteria, long strides eager to seek you out and punish you ruthlessly for your deranged and depraved, bratty behaviour. Satoru Gojo is worshipped like the literal god, who the hell are you? Meanwhile, you, amidst all your molten courage flowing in your veins, were the epitome of anxiety. You can't mistake his blazing steamy rage filled blue eyes greying… to be anything but merciful. You're not delusional.

A veiny, pale hand gripped your hair, the other wrapped around your mouth as you were dragged through the lonesome corridor. You whimpered at the burn in your scalp and before you could register what was happening, Satoru was standing in front of you. Baring his hostile teeth as he grits. "You've done it." He's almost amused, contemplating what more he can do to you, what more can you really handle… then again, does it matter if you can or can’t handle?

"Here's what's going to happen…" He pushed himself against your chest, unrelenting at how disgusting you might feel, transferring the filth on his shirt to yours. You struggled like a fish out of water. Satoru is taller, bulkier, stronger and you realize that soon enough.

"You will be my silly little pet, because guess how much this shirt costs?" He chuckled, whispering gravely against the shell of your ear. "1800 dollars, missy."

You feel shocked upon hearing the price, eyes widening as he slowly leaned his hand away so you could speak.

"Either you fucking pay me back, with interest for each day. Or you shut the fuck up and be my silly little pet for a month I will stomp on, my little useless errand girl. Sounds fitting to someone who looks like you, no?" He smirks, watching the colour fade in your eyes. He is sort of impressed by himself, the way he instantaneously thought of such a brilliant idea. That money means nothing to him, but not everyone is that blessed.

Once you finally gathered what was happening, you raised a brow. "Why should I be an errand girl to someone who collided against me and is now begging to be paid for his filthy shirt? Learn to walk properly asshole!" You spit back, eyes siren and jaw gritted.

"Kay then, I will ask your mommy and daddy to pay for their daughter's bullshit." He left your hair, the pain subsiding into a dull ache.

He wasn't fucking serious was he? You and your parents weren't essentially on the best terms, they have just shifted to Tokyo and while they would be willing to pay, your self-respect wouldn't allow you. Your mother would keep taunting you about this for the rest of your life… you really don't want that.

Satoru noticed the shift in your behaviour when he mentioned your parents - "Heh, guess they don't like you either huh?" He smirked, not caring how hard it would jab you. It kinda did.. but you couldn't care less. Not coming from him especially.

"10 days, of me being your errand girl." You wanted to be ploughed down into death once you uttered these words. There was nothing you could do anyways. Parents involving, not so much…

"A month." Satoru shrugged, smirking. He has you exactly where he wants. His sole goal is to make you cry every single day and make sure you apologize for being a little shit to him.

"And, you do whatever the fuck I say you to. If I tell you to clean my shoe with your tongue, you 'fucking' clean my shoe with your tongue."

Oh it felt like dying, like you were stabbed endlessly by a thousand swords when he said that.

"How do I know after a month you wouldn't bother me or my parents with the money?" Satoru raised a brow, smirking. "I'm a man of my word, little bitch." He squeezed your face in a single hand, watching your puckered lips. "I say you're free after a month, then you're free after a month, though you'll wish every single day that you paid me back." He chuckled, rolling his eyes as he let go of your face with a jerk, letting the back of your head collide a little with the wall.

You were so cute, small, stompable…

"See me when the school ends."

Satoru walked away with that, and your shoulders slumped. This is what it has truly come to? You needed some time to yourself after this, why are you always so pushy and so cocky? What if you didn't humiliate him… a month of sheer torture is what you've signed up for, just to not be tortured by your mother. Besides, it's a lot of money and you don't think your parents owe you because a shitty ass senior got pissed.

You dragged your feet to him, after the school ended. His whole group was present, they were busy chitchatting. Satoru perked up like a spoiled brat the moment his eyes glazed through you beneath the glasses. "My little lap bitch is hereeee~" He perked, walking towards you and smirking at how you grimace when you see the way he was treating you.

"Go, fetch us popsickles." He grinned, giving you the money. You didn't say anything, trying oh so hard not to slap him across the face and breathing out. "Mkay."

You looked up, counting the number of people, "Excluding yourself, no popsickles for you." He simply shrugged.

Oh he was getting beneath your nerves so bad. "I wouldn't buy them for myself." You explained anyway, "Don't wan' em." With that, you walked away, getting to the vending machine and getting those fucking popsickles which you rather wish were poisoned so he dies for good.

When you're back, he made sure you give them to everyone, made sure you give it to him- after opening the packet- and then dropped it.

"Whoops, gotta run again lil girl." He chuckled, his friends were… stunned too. Satoru is a cunt, they all know that. He pushes people through their limits but he's never been this much of an asshole towards any girl. Maybe because none of them did anything except slither around him and worship him.

You tear up, you have never… felt this humiliated in your life ever. Nanami gives his popsickle to Satoru, "Here, Gojo san. I don't want it. Please take it." He is so polite, kind… but his Senpai had other plans.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" He raises his voice a little, and you are left with nothing but a reminder of him demanding this money from your parents. Your feet are stoned to the ground though, unmoving. "Okay." You managed to say again, taking a deep breath as you force yourself to the vending machine yet again, bringing back his popsickle.

You thought highschool would be fun, you would make new friends, go to karaoke parties, excel in subjects, in extra curriculars, whatnot.. you never expected yourself landing into the clutches of rich asshole Gojo Satoru.

Once you're back, you unwrap it again and give it to him. For fuck's sake he finally accepted.

"Kay, gimme your number." He extends his hand with his phone on it, letting you reluctantly add your number and saving it as 'Servant'. Showing it to you to rub salt on your wounds. "Off you go, see you tomorrow." He smiled. You were relieved you don't need to see his face for the rest of the day.

Once you reached home, you cried. All the emotions overwhelming you all at once. Guess he was right, he will make you cry everyday..

The rest of the day passes by in a haze before you find yourself back in school again.

"OH good morning little errand girl!" Satoru's presence looms, he was waiting for you at the entrance, you looked up at him. Not responding for now. You needed to get to class. OH so you're being indifferent now? Satoru is pissed…

"So eager to go to class, I have a job for you though!" He snickers, watching your stompy feet come to a pause. Good, you were still listening. He will push you a little more. "During the lunch time, go and bring my lunch for me, kay? You won't eat unless I finish." He smirked, walking away.

The problem is… it's not fun anymore. At least… not how it was when you retaliated. Maybe he shouldn't have used the money thing and just teased you when you had the means to push it back. You just nodded and left.

During the lunch time, you did as directed. Bringing his plate to him in front of everyone… oh it satiated his silly little ego so much.

Though he wonders if you will snap… finally. If not, he can just push it. No? He extends his hand to Haibara who reluctantly gave his water bottle to Satoru.

Before you could process what happened, you were drenched. The white shirt now translucent, showing your bra. Everyone laughed, some of them were gawking at how the shirt does no justice to you, now that it sticks to your skin, you look much more delectable. "Oops, my hand slipped." He says again, though he knows he's pushed this one too hard. Today was only the second day. Besides, a vile feeling erupted beneath him when he felt others gawk at you. Look away. Look. THE FUCK. AWAY.

Rolling his eyes, he puts his blazer on you, "Here, go get changed.." He mumbled, your silence was not helping. Not fucking helping when you shivered at the coldness of your body, how you just… took it. You didn't even cry, this was to be expected from him anyways.

You nodded, walking towards the infirmary alone. "For fuck's sake…" Satoru snarled, whatever left of his inner conscience slapping him hard as he followed you to it. Making sure you change your clothes and gave you a juice.

You were silent again, taking it from him. "Got nothing to say?" He raises a brow, "I thought you were all big and mean…" He emphasized again.

"Nothing to say. I expected worse." You shrugged, walking away. You expected 'worse'? What kind of worse…

"What the fuck do you mean?" He holds your wrist, "You know, like beating me the fuck up or something." You looked at his eyes. Wow… you truly think of him as vile and disgusting don't you? Why does it pinch him so hard? He's done nothing but bother you and made you believe he is trash.

"Kay." He mumbles, walking away. He's the one bullying you and he's the one being bullied at the same time.

Satoru Gojo doesn't bother you for the rest of the week and the weekend after.

Monday… he asks you to hold his bag for him all the way to his home. Watches you cutely manage both yours and his bag when he could easily hold your bag and you…

You're panting softly when you reach the Gojo estate, cutting the call from your mother and texting her you'll be late. "Here's your bag." You gave it to him and he took it from you easy peasy. "Alright, well.." He can see the sweat beads on your forehead, the way you are twisting your shoulder for relief. Suguru has already stopped talking to him because of this behaviour. You look cute, even when you piss him off so bad.

"Go run home." Satoru scoffs and leaves. Maybe he should just shorten the duration from a month to 15 days… but then, would you become the rebel he liked you to be or would you just ignore him…. contemplation, contemplation… and lots of contemplation.

[candycandy00]

Hi! I decided I'd try my luck with this. I love your writing btw, your Doll House fics are just amazing. Congratulations on 2k followers, you deserve it! Here's my request for the event:

Character: Tomura Shigaraki

AU Setting: Prison

Spice Level: NSFW or Slightly Spicy

Mood: Writers choice

Kinks: Daddy kink, size difference, virgin reader, praise kink, and if you want, non-con.

I was thinking maybe Tomura is a prisoner and Reader is a guard working at the prison. Thank you! I'm excited to see the results!

Shower Duty - A Shigaraki x Reader Fic

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Quirkless AU. Shigaraki is a prisoner, reader is a guard. Straddles the line between Dubcon and Noncon, so beware! 

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k followers event! Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @benkeibear.

You’ve only been working as a guard at this high security prison for three weeks, and you already want to quit. 

It started out so well. The pay is good, the warden isn’t a complete jerk, you get along with your coworkers, and even the prisoners are relatively well behaved. Sure, they occasionally flirt with you or make inappropriate comments, but as the only woman guard, you’re not surprised. 

However, a week ago you were transferred to a different section of the prison, and that’s when you found out that Shigaraki Tomura, the infamous serial killer and terrorist, is being held here. 

Everyone in the country knows his name. Everyone lived in fear of him while he was on the loose, carving a path of murder and mayhem across the nation. And everyone celebrated when he was finally caught and sentenced to life in prison, but the public was never informed of which prison he would spend the rest of his days in. 

That was six years ago. You were a teenager then, but even you had watched the trial on the news, being equal parts terrified and fascinated by the thin man with long white hair and peculiar red eyes. He had remained totally silent throughout the trial, showing no emotion whatsoever. No remorse, but no pride or malice either. At one point he looked directly at the camera, and the intense look in his eyes gave you nightmares for weeks. 

So when your coworker led you to a cell with no bars, only a tiny window slot to look through, you were shocked when you looked inside and saw the notorious killer.

He was sitting on his cot, reading a book. He looked a little different, naturally after six years. His hair was longer, still that shocking white color, and he was more toned than you remembered. He probably lifted weights like the other prisoners did for recreation. He glanced up at the window slot, and his ruby eyes met yours. By reflex, you pulled away. 

For the next few days, you had to patrol this hallway. No one ever went into Shigaraki’s cell, for any reason. Food was pushed through the slot on a tray. He was taken from his cell once every night to shower. It had to be when there were no other prisoners in the shower room, because the guards needed to focus their attention on him. Two armed guards had to escort him to the shower and then escort him back. 

The guards didn’t seem that worried about him. In six years he has been completely docile and quiet. He rarely speaks and shows zero inclination for violence. Actually, he’s a model prisoner. At least that’s what the other guards told you. 

Once, you were one of the guards in charge of taking him to the shower room. You tried to avoid looking at him as he undressed in front of you and the guard standing beside you. But it was literally your job to watch him, as awkward as it was. He didn’t seem embarrassed to have a woman in the room, probably because he has a surprisingly nice body, well sculpted, with impressive proportions. 

After he finished showering, he dried off and dressed in fresh clothes, and as you stepped beside him to escort him back to his cell, he spoke to you for the first time. 

“Enjoy the show?”

You looked at him in shock, more from hearing his voice for the first time than from his words. But once those words sank in, your face flushed with heat and you frowned at him. “Murderers aren’t my type,” you shot back, and nothing more was said. 

Today, three days later, you find yourself on shower duty again. You and a friendly coworker are standing just outside the reach of the water’s spray, watching Shigaraki lather himself up, when both your radio communicators buzz with sound. 

“Riot in Cell Block D! Everyone available head to Cell Block D to assist!”

You turn toward the door to rush over and help, but your fellow guard stops you. “I’ll go. You stay and watch him!”

You glance at Shigaraki, who is taking his time rinsing off, then back to the guard. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to stay?”

He shakes his head. “Have you ever seen a riot before? It’s wild! People are throwing punches left and right, shoving, kicking… it’s dangerous! Look, Shigaraki has been perfectly behaved since he’s been here. He’s not gonna mess up his record now. Besides, you have a gun. If he tries to make trouble, just shoot him in the leg!”

With that, the other guard runs off, leaving you alone with the wet, naked serial killer. 

You place your hand on your holstered gun, just for your own peace of mind, and watch him warily. He glances over at you, and his eyes widen very slightly. He’s probably surprised to find you alone. A hint of a grin passes over his face, and he turns his body to face you, giving you a very clear view of his nakedness. 

It makes you want to avert your eyes, but you can’t. Especially not now, being the only guard in the room. He probably knows that. 

Suddenly Shigaraki groans and grabs the wall of the shower as he staggers toward you, as if he’s dizzy. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, your hand still on your gun. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know…” he mumbles, holding his head with his free hand. “Feel like I’m… passing ou-“

He lurches forward, falling, and you rush to catch him in your arms. It’s simply human nature to try to catch a falling person, a reflex you can’t control. And as soon as you feel his hard, dripping wet body against yours, you realize your mistake. 

His hand moves swiftly to your gun, pulling it from the holster and tossing it across the room, far out of your reach. Your first instinct is to reach for your radio, to call for help, but he has one of your hands in a vice grip as he knocks the radio out of your other hand. It smashes on the tile floor, and you have no options left but to try to fight him off.

The struggle doesn’t last long. He’s taller and stronger than you, and he probably has a lot of experience subduing people by force. He killed a lot of people with his bare hands after all. 

He manages to knock your feet out from under you and you crash onto the wet floor as the water from the shower pours over you both. He drops down to his knees, straddling your thrashing body, and quickly pins your hands back, on either side of your head. 

“Stop fighting, or I’ll have to hurt you,” he says, his voice frighteningly calm. 

You go still, smart enough to know better than to waste your energy on a losing battle. “You’ll never escape,” you tell him, trying to sound sure of yourself. 

A disturbing grin spreads over his face. “Who said I want to escape?”

“Then what are you…?” Your voice trails off as you realize what he intends to do. “No!” you shout, struggling beneath him. 

He grips both your wrists and then slams them against the floor. “Be still, or I’ll snap your neck! And when the other guard comes back, I’ll snap his neck too! I’m serving a life sentence, I’ve got nothing to lose!”

You go limp, whimpering as he straightens up, releasing your wrists. Even with your hands free, you’re still unarmed, on your back, helpless. Trying to fight him will only get you killed, and possibly your coworker as well. You’re dealing with a murderer, so his threats are definitely not empty. 

“That’s it,” he says, lightly stroking your now wet hair, “that’s a good girl. Now keep being good for me, and you might just enjoy this.”

You look at him with venom in your eyes. “I would never-“

He covers your mouth with his own, his tongue slipping past your lips and mingling with yours. When he pulls away, he’s grinning at you again. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, where your eyes linger. You can deny it all you like, but I know what you want.”

“You’re wrong,” you tell him, looking him straight in the eyes. 

“Really? Guess we’ll see.”

You can feel the water on the floor seeping into your clothes, the edge of the shower’s spray hitting your left arm and shoulder, as his hands move to the buttons of your shirt. With nimble, steady fingers, he unbuttons them, shoving your shirt open to reveal your white lace bra. Then he pushes it up, above your breasts, exposing you. 

Turning your head to the side, you avert your eyes as his hands squeeze and rub your soft flesh. You refuse to make a sound. You won’t give him the satisfaction. 

Once he’s done groping your chest, he moves down, unbuckling your belt, then unzipping your standard gray uniform pants. You draw in a sharp breath as he yanks your pants down your legs, but otherwise remain silent. 

“Moment of truth,” he says, then he pauses. You glance back at him, and he says, “I’ll make a deal with you. If your pussy isn’t wet at all, and not from the water, I’ll stop. I won’t touch you again. But if you’re all sticky and ready for me…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. You squint your eyes closed, and he pulls your panties off before opening your legs. You feel his fingers touch you, slide into you way too easily, and then he laughs. 

“In knew it! You’re drenched.”

You open your eyes, your face hot with embarrassment. “It’s the water! I’m not… aroused.”

He holds his fingers up, moving them like scissors to show the stretchy strings of fluid. “This isn’t water.”

You look away again, tears blurring your vision. Even you don’t know why you’re turned on by him. He’s a killer! “Just… don’t hurt me,” you finally say. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Huh?” He looks confused for a moment, staring at your face with red eyes until your words click. “Wait, never? So you’re…?”

You don’t say anything to confirm it, you don’t have to. You’re waiting for some gross comment or mockery, but he just leans his face down close to your ear and says, “I’ll take care of you.”

What does that mean? Before you can react, his fingers are inside you again, probing, stroking, making you feel things you’ve never felt before. You let out a small cry, and then clamp your hand over your mouth. You swore you wouldn’t make a sound! 

Shigaraki grins down at you. “Cute,” he says, before dipping his head down to kiss your neck. He’s being strangely gentle, kissing you like a lover, making your heart flutter even as your mind rejects everything that’s happening right now. 

You feel pleasure building in your core, and you fight the feeling with everything you have. You can’t cum from being touched by this monster! You just can’t! 

Mercifully, he stops, pulling his hand away and licking his fingers. You watch him, your breaths coming faster, your heart pounding. Then, you feel his hands on your hips, holding you in place. You don’t struggle as he pushes himself inside you, slowly and carefully, looking you in the eyes. You’re not even sure if you want to struggle anymore. 

There’s a disturbing beauty to him as he hovers over you, his damp white hair spilling over his shoulders, his intense eyes shimmering. When he begins moving inside you, he starts with shallow thrusts, slightly stretching you as he goes. There’s a bit of a sting, but nothing like you expected, especially with him. 

“You’re doing so good,” he says into your ear before kissing your lips again and thrusting a bit deeper. “Being such a good girl for me.”

As he starts to go faster, harder, he reaches down with one hand and strokes your clit with his fingers, making your hips buck reflexively. A moan escapes you, but at this point you’ve stopped caring if you make noise. You both hate this and love it, and you can’t decide which emotion is stronger. 

The pleasure builds again, spiraling through your body, and this time, nothing you can do will stop it. 

You cry out as you climax, your back arching. Shigaraki has one hand on your thigh, the other buried in your hair, and he keeps fucking you deeply as you ride out the storm of pleasure, clenching tightly around him. Eventually you feel him twitch inside you, and then he cums, not even bothering to try pulling out. He coats your insides completely, looking down at you with twisted affection in his eyes. “Good girl,” he says, before pulling out of you and standing up. 

He showers off again while you scramble to put your wet clothes back on, having no idea what to do about this. And so when your fellow guard finally returns, you’re silent besides telling him you got wet catching Shigaraki when he nearly fainted. 

Your mind is racing. Shigaraki dresses and smiles at you as you escort him back to his cell, looking almost smug. 

As you lock the door, he looks at you and says, “I hope you’ll be on shower duty more often.”

[hanfourz]

— m.jh thought [✷]

🪼- this has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i had to get it out. (also making this into a longer drabble bc whew; so enjoy this little snippet ig)

warnings: suggestive towards the end, kissing

thinking abt college bsf!myungjae who has a massive crush on you. he doesn't even try to hide it, he's literally so obsessed with you. if someone is looking for jaehyun, they look for you first because wherever you are he follows not too far behind. you can't even fully recall how you two became best friends. you remember him coming into the cafe you worked at a lot with his friends, conveniently around the time you would start your shift. he was always really friendly and sweet, making conversation while he waited for his order to be finished. you remember watching him and his goofball friends bicker loudly in the middle of the coffee shop and when you'd accidentally let out a giggle he was the first to look your way. you remember him one day asking you when your shift was over and him telling you to find him in the library once you were done. since that day, you two have been practically inseparable.

finals were coming up and the two of you had decided to become study partners. terrible idea really because he didn't have a serious bone in his body. whenever he came to your dorm to "study", you two always ended up studying for maybe ten minutes max before yall were huddled up on the couch watching tv. you had to resort to studying alone once he'd left. bad decision number two was letting him convince you to come study at his dorm because his roommate would be out and you'd have "peace and quiet" (as if that was a thing around myung jaehyun). when you got there wearing a baggy tshirt and shorts, jaehyun visibly gulped. everyone but you was very aware of his crush on you and it was times like this that made it especially difficult for him. because how was he meant to act somewhat normal when you looked like that. he wasn't sure he wanted you to be aware of how he felt about you, too scared to lose you as a friend entirely.

jaehyun was even more touchy than usual, body pressed right up against yours as you two sat on his bed. touchiness wasn't uncharacteristic for him, he was like that with everyone but today it was much worse. you didn't really understand why he seemed to be attached to your hip today but you can't say you were complaining. you never minded jaehyuns clinginess, it was actually one of the things you came to rly love about him. once your (very short) study sesh was over, he offered to walk with you back to your dorm since it was dark out. you never turned down spending more time with him and you two headed to the elevator. as you walked you had started yapping to him about something going on with some friends from one of your other classes. he wasn't really paying attention though, hyper focused on the way your cut-neck shirt was falling dangerously low on your shoulder.

as soon as you two were in the elevator, jaehyun was extremely close to you again. when you looked up at him, you were shocked to see the way he was looking at you. and when his hands found the curve of your hips and he was asking to please kiss you, the puzzle pieces started to click in your head. truth is, you'd always found him devastatingly attractive but refused to entertain those thoughts, trying not to catch feelings for someone who was just supposed to be a friend. but you'd be stupid to deny him right now and you'd be a liar if you said you hadn't wanted to kiss him since that first day you saw him in that cafe. so you gave in, you let him kiss you breathless on that elevator and you invited him into your dorm when you realized that your roommate was out. you let him indulge in every lewd fantasy he'd had of you right on your very bed.

[beowlet]

HOUSEWARDENS WITH A S/O WHO LIKES TO BITE THEM

Headcannons

cw: nothing much other than fluff, Gn!Reader, usage of "You" instead of pronouns. NOT proofread.

part 1 part 2 part 3

R. Rosehearts

His love language is probably Quality Time and Acts of service but he definitely enjoys physical affection in private. However, he is definitely still a little shy. Just give the poor boy a little more time and he'll get used to it.

Probably has a hard time adjusting to physical contact at the start of the relationship. I'm skipping hand-holding stage because this guy can't even bring himself to touch you anywhere. Literally.

Let us jump to a few months into your relationship. Can finally hold your hand without a problem and he even sometimes hugs you! Isn't that cute-

Well, he has gotten used to hugs yes! But he didn't expect you to just bite his shoulder out of nowhere while hugging you?? What are you even doing?? THIS IS HIGHLY INAPPROPRIATE!!

*attempts to collar you immediately*

Wasn't expecting it at all?? Why would you even bite him?? Did he manage to annoy you somehow..?- He is sure he didn't squeeze you too tight or anything... Did he say something without realizing it??

Please tell this boy that's how you show affection right after otherwise he'll overthink it all week.

Probably doesn't understand anything at all confused about how biting someone could be a way of showing affection. But he doesn't mind if you do it in private.

Always flushes red whenever you do it, Riddle tomato kinnie<3

L. Kingscholar

Good for you can you guys go back to your nap now?

Probably doesn't care all that much. I think Leona would be a Physical Touch and words of affirmation kinda guy so he really doesn't mind your biting habit just don't bite too hard and wake him up.

First time you did it I don't even think you guys would be dating.

This man drags you into the botanical garden every single day at the exact same time in lunch break JUST to cuddle with you. Doesn't give a fuck if you're dating or not.

It would be a day where you just wanted to watch the lion beastman sleep instead of resting with him because you had too much energy. Your eyes scanning the gorgeous man sleep watching his chest rise and fall... until you notice his exposed neck.

oh no

This is the perfect momment. How can you resist to urge to bite him?? Just a gentle little nibble on his arm-

Chomp

Wakes up immediately and pushes you back in reflex he is staring at you like (•ー•)

Why?

He doesn't mind it but why bite him exactly?

He just sighs and goes back to sleep almost instantly. Probably too tired to deal with your bullshit

But to your suprise he won't push you away anymore when you try to do another small nibble on his arm

Don't expect him to not bite back to tease you though. Bite you where you ask? Don't worry about it.

A. Ashengrotto

His love language is DEFINETLY Gift giving and Quality time nobody can prove me wrong nor will anybody try to because they know I'm right ☆o☆

The first stages of your relationship I would imagine it to be a bit rocky because Azul would still have a hard time relaxing around you and would be uncomfortable with the idea of physical touch at first.

At FIRST.

Once he is comfortable this boy is all over you, hugging and cuddling and kissing and EVERYTHING. He is all. in.

First time you bit him it was probably you two cuddling. Out of nowhere you just casually bit into his shoulder.

My guy YELPS

He is staring at you in shock because why?? Just why?? He doesn't need another Floyd! Why are you biting him??

Is all pouty when you say you do it to show your love.

Out of 7 love languages you chose one THAT DOESN'T EVEN EXIST??? BITING? WHY???

Eventually gets used to it and (kinda) starts liking it.

The sensations when you bite his neck while cuddling starts to feel comforting. It doesn't even feel sexual.

He only lets you bite him in private. Nothing on this planet could never and I mean NEVER EVER make this boy let you bite him in public. Arm, hand OR LITERALLY ANYWHERE. No. If you do you're getting the silent treatment.

K. Al-asim

Kalim's love language is definetly Gift giving and Physical touch. He can't help but want to shower you with gifts and cling to you whenever it's possible.

Imagining he's already very friendly I don't think he would even try to tone down the affection at the beginning of your relationship. Hugs, kisses (not on the lips he wants to save that for a special time), hand holding. He doesn't think much of it!

Doesn't mind PDA, would hug and kiss you anywhere with anyone present.

I imagine this would happen early on your relationship too, maybe when you two are studying together.

I imagine Kalim as someone who would boop his lover's nose. Do you people see where I'm going with this?

You two would be in his room, studying peacefully. Before of course Kalim gets bored and starts doing random stuff. Playing with your hair or clothes, and eventually he goes to boop your nose.

You, out of reflex, lean in to gently hold his finger with your teeth. Not biting down.

I don't think Kalim would be too suprised, probably just giggle and kiss your cheek.

So yeah! Doesn't mind it! Don't do it in public or leave marks or Jamil will be on your ass.

V. Schoenheit

Vil's love language I think would be Quality time and Gift giving I don't know might be wrong on that one I'm not too sure.

Not too big on physical touch but if you wanna hug him for a short while he wouldn't mind. Definetly tries to keep it low in public. In private I feel like he would drown you in kisses.

Imagining you tried sneaking in a bite in public, this man is gonna push you away and spray water on you like you're some damn cat.

No.

Just no.

You can't leave marks on him or do something as stupid as that in public. Will give you a full 2 hour long scolding.

Would he like it? Maybe. But has a reputation to keep. He wears many outfits for photoshoots, ones that are skin showing and ones that cover his body. But he can't exactly always wear clothes that cover his neck or shoulders.

If you wanna do it you will have to do it somewhere that wouldn't be visible. Otherwise you're getting the water spray.

I. Shroud

Oh this man is def a Quality time and Acts of Service guy. Not saying he wouldn't like physical affection but would probably not be the most comfortable with it. He needs time to get comfortable yanno?

There is no way you are gonna be able to bite this man pre-relationship. No. He isn't even out of his room most of the time how did you bag him? How??

Would have to do it while he's gaming. Maybe playing a pvp game with you or something. If you wanna win you have to distract this man a little bit...

Seated infront of a screen, both of you with controllers in hand... possibly about to break it with how much of a try hard you two are being just to win. And suddenly... an idea strikes you!

Biting Idia!

It definetly worked because my guy jumps back so hard he probably hits something. But hey! You won! Just don't do that ever again.

Just no.

Okay maybe.

Just not out of nowhere like that.

Please do it again.

NOT IN A WEIRD WAY THOUGH.

...He finds it weirdly comforting...

M. Draconia

I like to think Malleus' love language is physical touch and gift giving. He would probably buy you flowers out of nowhere. I feel like he'd bring you rocks he finds pretty too idk... maybe only I think that way...

I feel like the momment you show this man any physical affection that would be considered even a little more than friendly he would assume you two were in a relationship.

So no, once again. After you two got together.

You could do it at anytime and anywhere, but for the sake of your ear drums not being busted by Sebek's screeching voice yelling about his devotion to Malleus and how disrespectful what you just did was, let's say it was in private.

He would be suprised but probably would allow it without question. Would bring your hand up to his mouth and hold your finger with his teeth while having an expression that said "am I doing this right...?"

In conclusion he doesn't care. Do it. Bite this man anywhere you want. He likes it. Probably comforting in a way.

♡. Requested by beloved @identity-theft-101

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[1:44 pm]

(cw: f!reader, "ass")

Fratboy!Jaehyun had woken up groggy and confused. He wasn't sure what time it was or even what day it was. His mouth was dry and it took every ounce of power to pry his eyes open. His room was dark and his internal clock told him at had to be at least mid-morning. He could hear his fray brothers going about their days. He could hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen, people going up and down the stairs, and someone had just gotten in the shower.

He rolled out of bed- literally, he got tangled in his sheets and fell with a muffled groan in pain.

He walked out of his room, walking down the stairs toward the kitchen to see if anyone would offer him any leftovers or second servings.

It was all hitting him now, he had just had his last final yesterday. A week full of studying until his brain felt like mush and his eyes burned. It was tough but he felt really confident. So his reward to himself was a day of playing hooky from work and all responsibilties.

That apparently meant you too... You'd been calling and texting him for half the morning and all your messages went unanswered and undelivered. His location was off because his phone was off so you frantically made a trip to the frat house to see if he was there and most importantly alive.

Your frantic knocks were answered by a calm Haechan who reassured you Jaehyun was alive and asleep. You even saw yourself. His mouth was wide open and his snores were practically shaking the wall.

So that's how you had ended up with Haechan, in the kitchen, wearing his hoodie, covered in flour, and that's how Jaehyun found you.

"What's going on here?" Jaehyun's groggy voice asked.

"So we were making a cake together and we started making the frosting but the powdered sugar went everywhere," you explained with a sheepish smile.

"You're making at cake in the morning?" Jaehyun deadpanned.

Haechan laughed, shaking the powdered sugar from his hair which created a large white cloud, "bro it's like 2 in the afternoon."

Jaehyun's eyes widened, he was in shock, but that didn't take away from the grumpiness he was feeling after waking up and promptly falling on his face. "So you came over and instead of spending time with your boyfriend on his day off you came over and made a mess instead?"

Your face fell and Haechan tensed. "But I called you and texted you all morning and you never answered! I came over because I was scared something had happened and you were knocked out!" You explained.

"So you decided to stay with one half of dumb and dumber and make a big ass mess?" Jaehyun countered.

Haechan pouted, mumbling under his breath, "I'm not dumb."

"We're obviously going to clean up, why are you being so rude right now?" You asked stepping closer to Jaehyun and out of Haechan's ear shot.

Jaehyun sighed, closing his eyes, "I spent the whole week studying my ass off and I woke up later than I wanted to then I fell on my face." His face flushed, "then I come down and see my girlfriend with her other boyfriend and I'm just hungry and tired... and I'm sorry."

You cup his cheek, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips pulling away to tell him, "you are such a baby when you wake up. I'll make you something to eat and then we can watch a movie, yeah?"

"And you're staying over." Jaehyun mumbled against your lips.

"Sure, I'll stay," you chuckle.

"Wasn't a question, baby," Jaehyun smiles, pressing one last kiss to your lips before you turn and help Haechan clean up the mess of powdered sugar.

You crouch down to clean up the mess on the floor while Haechan wipes down the counter. Haechan glared at Jaehyun as soon as your eyes meet the floor. "Don't ever let me catch you talking to her like that again," Haechan whispers.

"Huh?" You ask, peeking your head up.

Jaehyun has a stare down with with Haechan, "Nothing, baby."

[blimpintime]

warmth azriel x reader

Based on this ask!

this is my first time writing for Azriel!

warnings: past abuse

word count: 840 words

is unedited

Tumbling down the side of the rocky hill, you manage to hit and scrape every part of your small, frail body on the freezing rough ground. Small wings bleeding and bent at odd angles twitch on your back as you finally stop moving. 

You hear laughter above you and making its way towards you. Groaning and spitting out blood and saliva out of your mouth as they reach you. Being ten is one thing in Illyria, being a ten year old bastard daughter in Illyria is another thing.

The boys that shoved you down the hill in the first place are trying to get you to the river to drown you, you have figured that out pretty quickly, but because of having a rough life from the get go you won't be going down without a fight.

It’s a struggle getting back on your feet, your wings being clipped a week prior and now broken and mangled making it hard for you to balance. 

“Look at her, she is pathetic.” One of them snickers, you look at the two standing before you, the tall figures looking hazy under the moonlight. 

“It’s a wonder she’s lasted this long in the first place. Look at how small she is. We are doing her a favor putting her out of her misery.”  

“One day, I will kill you both.” You say with a bloody grin, “It might not be today, or tomorrow but I will do it. With a smile on my face.” You spit blood out at their feet. 

It must have been the look of determination or maybe desperation on your face, but the two boys took a step back, and then laughed. 

“Sure, but you’re dead tonight bastard bitch.” And they start making their way towards you. 

“What did you call her?” A voice appears.

And three figures emerge from the tree line.

You cough a laugh out, and fall to your knees. A comforting warmth appears beside you helping you stand.

“You okay?” And it’s Azriel standing tall and brave before you, even at just twelve years old. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You say with a grin.

Dinner was always loud and fun with the family all together, Cassian and Nesta seeing who could out drink one another. Feyre and Rhysand egging them on and placing bets, and then you and Azriel silently watching them with warmth and humor.

“Oh to the mother you know damn well if any one here can out drink you it's her.” Rhysand says and gestures to you, to which you balk and choke on your drink you were sipping on. 

Azriel’s hand gently rubs your back with a knowing smile on his face. You feel love and mirth through the bond. Everyone has their eyes on you expecting to join in on the bets. 

“Ah, that’s not something I need to prove Cassy.” You say with a wink and he pouts. “Plus, I cannot drink right now.” 

Feyre drops her glass and it breaks. “Shut the fuck up.” She says while launching toward you with a smile, clearly being more tipsy than anyone was expecting. “Nyx is going to have a cousin.” She says with a sob.

“Feyre darling careful-” Rhys winces and tries to get out before she tackles you. Everyone has huge grins on their faces. 

“So? How long have you known?” Nesta asks softly. 

“About three months.” Azriel responds with a warm smile. 

“Well, that brings up one question I have.” Cassian says with a burp, you wince and call him gross. 

“Who is going to be the scary parent?” Cassian asks with a drunkenly serious face. 

“Obviously, y/n.” Nesta and Feyre say. Rhysand rubs his chin in thought and nods. “Yes, that's true.” 

Azriel looks shocked and you hide a grin in his shoulder. 

“Awe, Azzy don’t look so shocked.” Nesta says with a drunken snort. “Your mate is literally a reaper.” And she’s not wrong, you got the nickname centuries ago when you picked up a scythe as the weapon you preferred to fight with. You and Azriel often got the title of the Shadow and Reaper when put on missions together. 

The dinner soon comes to an end when Nesta and Cassian pass out on the couches, Feyre asleep on the table and Rhys coaxing her to get to an actual bed. 

“I love our family.” You whisper to Azriel as he puts your beanie on your head for you. He drags his hands down to your face, squishes your cheeks and kisses your nose. 

“I love you sweets.” He responds to you and then helps you put your shaw on for the cold walk home. You giggle and help him put his gloves on for him. 

You both head home down the path, leaning into one another with the snow lightly falling. But for some reason because of him you only feel warmth. And even though you live together you wish the walk was a little longer, just to enjoy that peaceful quiet love with Azriel.

a/n: YAYYYYY! okay so this is it! please lemme know how y'all feel!

my asks are still open right now!

[maralarsen]

Does he love me? >⁠.⁠<🎀

~Theodore Nott x reader~

WARNING: cursing

Fluff/Little angst

° | friends to lovers| °

° |Summary: Theo starts to be too nice and the reader wants to solve it

° | I'm starting to feel that my stories are boring even though I've only written 3 of them and one of them is supposed to have a sequel

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

"Who ever thought that the important books would be the highest," I jumped to grab the book on the elixir, but of course like the two attempts before and now I missed. "Sh*t!" I sinned, "pretty girls shouldn't swear."

I turned at the sound of a rather familiar voice. "Theo stop kidding and help me," why am I jumping for a book when he just reaches out and has it right away.

"Try to ask," he said with a smirk.

"I can see how much you enjoy watching me struggle with my height, Mr. Supreme!" but he just smiled and sat down on the nearest chair. He probably won't really help me if I don't ask.

Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not one of "his girls" who will ask him for something. I've known Theo long enough to not be naive that he likes me even though I had him. It's too much to say that I she could admit that at all.

But I'm not going to ask him for one stupid book.

CHAIR.

God, why didn't I think of that sooner. I walked over to the chair that was next to him, on which he was sitting, and moved it to the bookshelf.

"Why don't you just use a wand?" he asked me. "Because I probably forgot it?!" I reached for the book and took it in my hand, "ha, finally!" I raised my hands in the air as a sign of victory and I jumped from my chair to push her to her place.

"What are you planning for the evening?" I turned to face him, "I definitely don't intend to sleep under the image of God." I answered his question truthfully.

I wasn't the type to go to a party and then go to sleep and wake up in someone else's bed in the morning.

"Too bad, I thought you would come today," I raised an eyebrow at him, "and why?" he smiled at me and got up from his chair and slowly walked towards me.

He brushed a stray strand of my (c/h) hair out of my face and tucked it into place, behind my ear. "I don't even know myself, I had a feeling that you would say yes this time," I looked at him in disbelief, I was shocked by his actions.

There was always a friendly atmosphere between us and none of us ever crossed it. Why he suddenly behaves like that is strange to me.

"But as you can see I said no," I pulled away from him and left the library with the book in my hands.

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

A week later:

Interactions with Theo became more and more frequent.

Touching hands more often while walking. Hugging more often when saying goodbye. More frequent peeking during class. And more often compliments.

It didn't bother me because one side of me screamed after every touch of his, but the other warned me against this and shouted to be careful.

But as it usually happens with a teenage girl in love, the first page won me over. I longed for his touch, for his caress, for every compliment. He was literally making me a desperate pile of misery. Well, I didn't show anything on the outside. At least I tried, I don't know if it really worked.

I wanted to talk to him about this. Because all he gave me was a sweep. I didn't know what to expect from him. Is he serious or just kidding?

This is how I ended up in Pansy's room. "Pansy please give me some advice," I begged her with desperation in my voice. "I think you should go see him…ouch!" she tried to give me advice while doing her makeup for today's Slytherin party.

Unfortunately, this combination ended with a pencil sticking into her eye. "Are you okay?" "Ow. Hey, I just pricked myself, shit." she put the pencil down and sat on the bed next to me. "Listen, go after him," "but what if he..." I started playing with the laces on my sweatshirt.

"No problem! F*ck you woman, you're only young once, so f*ck him if you love him. And also everything points to the fact that he loves you too!" I looked at her.

"But what if I don't love him, what if it's just an infatuation that we'll regret later?!" I threw up my hands. That's what I was most afraid of, that it was just an infatuation, nothing more than a little romance. And I will hurt him and our friendship.

“Listen, (y/n/n)! If you didn't love him and it was just a romance, just an infatuation, you wouldn't be despairing over it now. You wouldn't care. And something tells me he feels the same way. At this time she's always on the astronomical tower smoking." I smiled at her and hugged her.

"Why did I deserve you Pans, thank you!" she grabbed my hands and said: "You'll thank me later now run," definitely I didn't hesitate any longer and ran to the door.

I literally ran through the corridors to get to the astronomical tower as soon as possible and catch him there. When I finally got there, I stopped in front of the stairs. What if he rejects me...NO! Enough of the doubt it's now or never!

I confidently walked up the stairs. I saw him leaning against a pillar smoking. My self-confidence left me the moment he noticed me and put out his cigarette. "What are you doing here?" he asked me. "Theo, we need to talk!" he raised his eyebrows "Did I do something?" Yes you did! I walked closer to him "Damn you realize what you're doing to me. The unexpected affection. Why Theodore, why now. If you just want me in bed then do it right now stop. Because you won't get me there even though I love you so much that I'm afraid to admit it to myself. God, you can't even imagine how much I was bothered by all those girls clinging to you and..." it was so fast that I didn't even have time to react .

One moment he was leaning against a pillar the next his lips were on mine. It was a kiss worth a million unheard words. A kiss that confirmed mutual affection.

He pulled away first with his right hand on my waist and his left on my face. When did he manage to put them there? "F*ck! You don't even realize how long I wanted to kiss you. Feel your lips on mine. I love you. And I'm finally not afraid to admit it. I've loved you since the day I saw you for the first time, even though as an 11-year-old I didn't even realize it and didn't know what love was. Hence all the affection. That's why now. Because when I saw you in that library. That's when I realized that I don't want anyone but you. Only you and your personality." when he spoke, I couldn't believe his words. I had never seen so many emotions in his eyes in my life.

"Theo I don't know what to say," I dreamily looked into his stormy blue eyes.

"Don't say anything just love me. Love me like your life depends on it because I already do," he loves me.

Theodore Nott loves me! Me!

Now I wanted only one thing: "Kiss me." Please!" I begged him. "Are you seriously begging? You (y/n) (y/l)?" "Yes please. And now please do it!" He smirked and his lips met mine, but now with more softness than if they were made of glass and he has to take care of them and protect them so they don't break.

I kissed him back and my hands tangled in his hair and they pulled him closer. He pushed me against the wall in return. I finally felt complete as if I had always belonged in his arms.

I pulled away from his hungry mouth "I love you! Theodore Nott," "I love you too (y /n) (y/l). More than you can imagine," I smiled at him and pressed my forehead to his.

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

• English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for the mistakes

• If you have any requests for a story, write to me ☺️

[thankskenpenders]

Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.

First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.

Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.

The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...

I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.

The why

I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.

Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.

But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)

The what, how, and when

So here's the plan.

Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.

After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.

I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.

I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.

So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?

[hellisharchive]

Adam with a bimbo s/o? I know it's not much to go off of but I'm a huge fangirl of your writing and I think you could do so well with this prompt! Have fun!!!

﹒﹒﹒dumb bitch

➤ Everyone knows you weren't the sharpest tool in the shed, you were pretty but dumb, you were always kind to everyone though. You somehow got the attention of the first man who didn't care how kind you were- he just wanted a good fuck

➤ 18+, sexual remarks, implied sex

➤ Adam x Bimbo!reader

➤ Hi yes this took literally 2 months I'm sorry I suck at requests in a managable time 😭😭😭

Adam first saw you and he immediately knew he wanted to fuck. I mean, you were HOT. So of course he hit his shot, he was the first man, Adam! Who wouldn't want the original dick?.

So, he shamelessly went up to you and flirted, causing you to blush and become flustered. You didn't know what he looked like under that mask but his voice was hot. He said he wanted to bring you to his room, what for? You weren't sure. But he he was cute, so you agreed.

He noticed that you weren't the smartest and you asked if you were going to watch movies or something, totally not understanding that he wanted to get freaky, and he sighed internally. He got a dumb bitch, didn't he? At least it'll make it easier for him to fuck you silly.

You laughed at his every joke even if they didn't hit as you walked towards his place, it was in the center of Heaven! How'd he manage that? That was only where the highest non human angels lived! You asked him and he sighed interally again before answering. "I'm the first mortal soul here Babe, I got the best of the best".

You both finally made it to his place and you just stared in awe at how pretty it was before oh! He started kissing you! That was unexpected, but you couldn't help but kiss back. Was this why he wanted to take you back? Not to watch movies? Things started to escalate and he dragged you into his bedroom where he shut the door.

Two weeks later, you two fucked regularly, Adam only saw you as a fuck buddy, but you considered it to be a relationship without even him knowing. So you always told people he was your boyfriend and when he finally found out, oh he was PISSED.

You were shocked when he said you two weren't dating, but how? You were together! You were fucking! You liked him! You started to cry because it hurt and he quickly shushed you, trying to calm you down but you kept sobbing.

He thought of something that normally he wouldn't agree to, but he- for some reason- felt terrible for making you cry. He told you that you can officially start dating and you squealed in delight and hugged him. Right after he felt like he was making a huge mistake, but couldn't help it when he felt his heart skip a beat when you hugged him. Oh no, was he forming feelings for you too?

Three months later and the relationship actually was pretty nice, Lute gave him hard shit at first but eventually ended up being fond over you- protective even. He doesn't do "romance" so he had to always get advice on what to do, but he was actually pretty happy with you. It shocked him, but you were such a pure soul he was almost thankful he agreed.

You were as happy as can be and on your first official date, you finally got to watch movies with him. Now every few dates, he always watches the newest movies that come out just to make you happy, he loves to see you smile.

[zepskies]

Hello my lovely friend! I would love to see an imagine/head canon of Dean and the reader seeing each other for the first time after he either comes back from hell or purgatory if you’d be up for it 💕 up to you whether it’s an established relationship or mutual pining 😉 thank you! 😘

Hello, my dear!!

Thank you so much for this imagine! I needed a bit of Dean. 😘

Now I went with Purgatory for this one (S8, E01 – “We Need to Talk About Kevin”).

I diverged from canon of Sam not looking for Dean to make sure if he was dead. Not just because I think that choice by the SPN writers wasn’t true to Sam’s character (Even Jared has said this lol), but because I think if Dean had a girlfriend at this point in time, Sam wouldn’t just abandon her to deal with Dean’s loss alone. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Song Inspo: Yes, I had one for this! Weirdly enough, it was the entire “Moneyball” soundtrack. The whole smooth but intense pace of it really drove me on this.

Word Count: 2,200 Warnings: 18+ only for some smuttiness.

Imagine: Reuniting with Dean, not knowing if things will be the same.

You’re doing the dishes when your phone rings.

You check the caller ID, frowning when the number is unfamiliar. But you answer with a thread of wariness while you’re holding a glass.

“Hello?” you answer. For a moment, there’s silence on the line. Your brows knit together in suspicion.

For months, you’ve been living with Sam and Kevin in this dusty cabin in the woods. Literally, in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. It was the only way you and Sam could try to protect the prophet from Crowley.

So the fact that you're getting a call at all is surprising in and of itself.

Your frown deepens. “Whoever this is, you have three seconds before I hang the hell up.”

“Hey…it’s me.”

Your suspicion fades, but shock overtakes you. Your breath stills in your lungs when you hear Dean’s voice. However, your brain can’t compute.

It’s been a year.

“Sweetheart, are you there?” he says.

You finally choke on a gasp, and the glass slides out of your hand and shatters in the sink.

“Hey, you okay?” his gruff concern is so very Dean that it continues to choke you into tears.

“Dean,” you utter. Your mouth trembles as your eyes close, and your tears find their own way down your cheeks. “I…I’ve been…you’re okay?”

“Well, I’m here,” he answers, with some dry humor, but he sounds off. You don’t know what to make of that, but now you’re worried.

You look down at your shaking hand, and you realize that there’s a small piece of glass that ricocheted into your palm. You ignore it, because all you can focus on is your boyfriend’s voice in your ear.

“Where…are you?” you ask. Every trembling, heave of breath brings you closer to a sob.

“Louisiana. Clayton, Louisiana,” he replies. His voice is even, but there’s emotion there too. You hear it, only because you know him so well. “Where are you?”

And how soon can you get here? his tone implies.

After Dean disappeared in the aftershock of Dick Roman’s death, you, Sam, and Kevin had been scouring every lore book on God’s green Earth. Nothing has gotten you closer to finding Dean in the last year.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to fully give up, but in recent weeks, you would never admit that your heart has been starting to falter. So has your body.

Sam watches you closely on the way out of the house, heading to the Impala. You’re grateful for the way he’s been looking out for you, but you also resent it. You don’t need help. You’re fine…mostly.  

As strange as it’s been living in this house, it’s become your safety blanket. Your cold shell where you can block off the rest of the world, as if time hasn’t been ticking by all these months outside of it.

But now you’re practically shaking. Call it nerves, lack of sleep, too much caffeine, too much crap food, stress, and grief. You ignore it, taking a firm grip of the passenger door handle and yanking it open. Sam drives.

The hours are excruciating. Your leg bounces restlessly, and Sam notices, but doesn’t comment. He does try to soothe you with your favorite music in the car. He tries to pick up conversation, but you’re not having it.

You’re even being pretty selfish right now. Sam had been without his brother for a year, just as you had been without. And here he is, trying to comfort you.

You can’t help it though.

You’re not okay. You don’t think you’ll ever be okay again until you see him.

Sam eventually pulls into the dingy motel in the middle of rural Louisiana. (And yet, somehow on the corner of a Hustler, one of Dean’s favorite sex shops. Your lips curve slightly.)

Sam’s calling Dean on his cell, but you’re too impatient to wait for the man to come out.

You jerk the car door open, and in your haste, you don’t realize that you’ve slammed the door shut.

“Hey, easy on my Baby.”

You turn with a gasp lodged in your throat, but not even that can escape when Dean comes into view. Complete with red plaid and old jeans and rough stubble that approaches a beard, and a duffel bag.

Dean’s smirk fades into a softer grin when he takes in the familiar curve of your face, the gentle frame of your body, the sight of your tears, welling up in your eyes.

You take in a shuddering breath, and you go to him. Dean drops his bag so that he can properly welcome you where you’re supposed to be.    

His arms wrap around your waist, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head. He smells like motel soap and second-hand clothes, but all you care about is that he feels solid and alive and your heart’s just shy of shattering, or knitting back together. It beats a fast flutter in your chest.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he rumbles in your ear. You nod, even though you can’t help the way you’re shaking, crying, clinging to him.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You hate that those are your first words to him, but you can’t help it. That’s what you feel, down to your bones. “We tried so damn hard to find you…”

Dean pauses a bit on that, but he just shakes his head. He meets Sam’s gaze behind you and offers his brother a smile. Sam smiles back; he’s full to the brim at the sight of Dean, but for you, he’s patient. He can wait his turn.

“I know,” Dean tells you, holds you a bit tighter. “I'm all right. It’s not your fault, you understand?”

You draw another shaky breath and lean back far enough to see his face. You raise a hand to touch his cheek. When he stares down into your eyes, you know you’re going to be okay.

And so will he. You’re going to make sure of it.

In lieu of words, Dean leans down and captures whatever you might’ve said then with his lips. The kiss is heat and longing, both sweet and rough. It’s everything you need.

It’s a long drive all the way back to your cabin in the woods. Dean checks on you often while you’re passed out asleep in the backseat. He’s back in the driver’s seat of his car, hands wrapped around the familiar leather steering wheel, but he still doesn’t feel totally…right.

Despite being wrapped around the leather, his right hand feels empty. Like it needs the weight of a weapon. He’s still tense and on edge, even now, and Sam notices.

“What was it like?” he asks, quietly so he doesn’t wake you. He’s glad you’re finally sleeping.

“Purgatory?” Dean scoffs. “Like being deep in God’s freakin’ armpit.”

Sam’s brows knit together, but he waits, seeing if Dean will continue. And he does, after giving Sam a brief glance.

“It was monsters, Sam.” A never-ending twilight. Never a moment to rest. A wide-eyed existence of gnashing teeth and blood and black ooze.

When Sam inevitably asks how he got out of Purgatory, Dean is vague, evasive. Castiel didn’t make it, he admits, also in halting detail. But Dean is more willing to focus on how tired you and Sam both look. How pale your skin is. How it seems like this is the first hour of sleep you’ve gotten all week.

“How’s she been?” Dean asks, once again checking on you through the rearview mirror. Sam inhales deeply, making Dean frown.

“She’s been holding on,” Sam replies. “Strong, for Kevin especially. Poor kid’s too scared to go outside half the time.”

Dean turns to him with a frown.

“You’ve been taking care of her, right?” he asks.

Sam huffs, with a wry smile. “When she let me.”

Dean quirks a bit of a smile. That sounded like you. Stubborn at your best, damn near impossible at your worst. But the latter is what he’s worried about.

He later carries you inside the cabin, acknowledging your sleepy mumbles that you can walk, but not actually heeding your words. Sam tells him which one is your room, and Dean carries you there. By then you’re awake, but resigned to the fact that he isn’t going to let you down.

Your hand smooths up his arm, up the back of his neck and into his hair. It makes a pleasant tingle run up his spine.

“Your hair’s gotten long,” you muse, sorting your fingers through the strands. His hair’s darker too, not quite so dirty blonde, now leaning closer to light brown.

Dean smiles a bit. “If that’s all that’s changed, then I’d say I’m in good shape.”

He lays you down on the bed, and you bring him down with you by grabbing onto the front of his gray undershirt. He sinks down onto the edge of the bed and drifts a hand from your arm, to your face. He refreshes his memory of every angle, the soft feel of your skin. He knows his hands are rougher, but you feel the same.

You draw him into you and it begins.

Kissing him feels like taking a much needed breath. The way he grips your arms when you lick sensuously into his mouth—a sudden squeeze, an iron hold—it ignites your blood and the fire in your lower belly.

Your fingers rake into his hair. His solid grip moves to your hips, and you lie back when he guides you onto the mattress.

The sound of your breaths mingling together become shallow as you shove the plaid off his shoulders and ruck up the shirt. He does the same for your shirt and jeans, followed by his own. All that’s left it his skin against yours and rough hands squeezing fingerprint bruises into your hips and thighs.

You don’t mind at first; the strength of his hold and how much he wants you spurs you on. You’re slick and pulsing with need when Dean eventually slides home inside you. He has a hand tight in your hair, gripping tighter as he begins to move hard and fast.

“Dean,” you pant. You moan on his name, but you’re also trying to get his attention. You wince as his hand tightens, both in your hair, trapped against the pillow, and on your hip. You hold onto his wrist.

“Ease up, baby,” you whisper. You don’t want Sam or Kevin to hear you, even though you’re sure they could guess what you and Dean are up to.

But Dean doesn’t seem to hear you at first. You look up into his eyes, and you’re not sure if he’s entirely seeing you. It’s not like him, and it triggers warning signals in your mind. You have to wrap your legs tightly around his hips, squeezing his wrist even harder to stop him for a moment.

“Dean,” you insist. And he finally sees you.

When you soothe a thumb against his wrist, his eyes widen. He releases his hand from your hair, bracing against the bed instead.

He frees the other hand from your hip, and he sees the shape of his fingers already forming in your skin. He knows his hold was tight enough to bruise down to the bone.

It’s happened before, but not like this. Dean’s never lost control like that. Not with you, even in times like these.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he catches his breath, frowning deeply. His green eyes meet yours, raw and guilty. “I uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head at him with a thoughtful frown. You reach up to frame his face with both hands, and you wordlessly tug him down to you. Dean is somewhat reluctant, but he follows your guiding hands and meets your waiting kiss, tender and slow.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats against your lips. His voice is low and coarse, filled with the true depths of his emotions. Everything he's been trying to hide from you.

Your eyes sting with the threat of tears.

“It’s okay,” you reply, through sweeter kisses. “I love you. We're gonna be okay.”

He hesitates. Then, he nods, accepting your words and your warmth.

His hand slowly brushes against your thigh, soothing along your bruising skin. You still have your legs wrapped around his hips, but you lessen your own hold, now that he seems to have come back to himself.

You both realize then that it might not be okay for a while. But that too is all right. Because you’re nothing if not stubborn, and Dean is worth the challenge.  

He closes his eyes to breathe and center himself. They blink open at the feeling of your hand, insistent on his shoulder. Your face is both tenderness and determination.

You push against him and twist until he's the one on his back, on the bed, holding your hips, the two of you still joined. He looks up at you still with a measure of reluctance.

"I've got you this time," you tell him, stroking his cheek. His almost-beard prickles against your palm.

After a moment, you can see in his eyes that he believes you.

And you begin again.

AN: Gaaaah, this man. I'm weak every time I write about him. 🥲

I have another Dean imagine coming soon. Some special anon asked for the reverse of "Sam being in love with Dean's girlfriend."

So stay tuned for "Dean gives you an impossible choice." 😉

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @fabimaou @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @syrma-sensei

[xlatrina]

(Pt. II.2) Friends to Lovers HCs w/Homicipher x GN!Reader

Tags: Platonic + Romantic HCs, Friends to Lovers trope for basically every LI, Likely OOC for some LIs*, Mini Scenarios (so HCs are kinda plot-driven), *Multi-Part Series, entirely SFW

Also, changing tenses in some cases + not proofread again... sorry!

*Some of the LIs are likely written OOC (Out Of Character) mainly due to a lack of substantial in-game appearances (at least in my opinion!). 

*Split into multiple parts because I’ve come to realize that these HCs are muuucccchhh too long 😅 BUT!! I’m too lazy to shorten them sooo… YEAH lol

Part I (Big 🙆‍♂️)

Part II (Mr. Chopped 🪓)

Part III (Mr. Crawling 👣)

$$$

Mr. Chopped (First Half/Second Half)

Cont.

Mr. Chopped is the type to get super lost in his stories. So lost that his face often morphs accordingly based on whatever he’s babbling about.

When he tells you about the state of his missing body, you watch his face morph from shock to sadness, to confusion, to an adorable pout, and then to excitement.

When he tries to explain his first few encounters with Mr. Silvair (which were rough, since Mr. Silvair appears to be the one who separated Mr. Chopped from his body in the first place), Mr. Chopped’s face morphs from fear to distrust to shock to joy.

This little man is just so darn expressive!

His feelings for you grow as you open up to him more and more.

You tell him about your experiences at work, and you tell him about an internship you finished some time ago (relative to whenever you ended up trapped in the Apartments).

You then tell him about some of your hobbies.

When you suggest doing one or two with him, he beams up at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him!

He’s probably blushing so baadddd at the thought of it lol

One-on-one personal time for an even longer period of time than usual???

An activity you enjoy that you choose to only ever share with him and him alone??

Even though he’s just a head and you have literally so many other options who all possess bodies and can get around on their own to at least some extent??!

WHAOXOANALXNDLFLDBAHAGVSBSKCKFLDM

At some point, he convinces you to follow his directions to a particular room. 

When you get there, you find yourself feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Here darkness,” you say. “We together go find light?”

“Is okay,” Mr. Chopped says. “Go that way! Hurry! Fast!”

You listen and approach a small square in the wall.

Briefly, you wonder if Mr. Gap might be in there, but it seems like the hole is empty.

“Enter! Enter!” Mr. Chopped bounces in your grasp excitedly.

You enter the crawl space and pull yourself through.

Soon, the darkness morphs into a faint whitish color.

Your heart jumps at the senses being triggered as you approach.

You finally come across a small hole, and through it, you peer at a sight you haven’t seen in a long time, your mouth agape as Mr. Chopped watches you excitedly.

The sound of clicking on stones draws your eyes to the heeled shoes strutting back and forth past the hole.

There’s the sound of chatter, laughter, shouting, horns, music…

Something smells good. Sooooo good…

Fresh food. Something’s being grilled…

Damn! Your mouth is starting to water!

“This place where?” You ask, pressing Mr. Chopped closer to your face. It was a super small space, after all.

“This place go to other area! Not know where area is, but if possible, me want to go!” Mr. Chopped grins at you, and you can’t help grinning back.

“Wow…” you say. “This is so cool. I wonder if those people will notice me if I reach out to them, though?”

Mentally, you waved the thought away just as quickly as you thought it.

After all, you promised your friends here some weeks ago that you’d stay. And while you could certainly always change your mind, well…

At the moment, you don’t really have a desire to leave.

“I’m happy you decided to share this with me, Mr. Chopped.” You smile sweetly at him.

“What you say? You happy?” He asks. You giggle at him.

“Am happy together we come here. Am grateful you bring me here. Am lots happy!” You say.

Mr. Chopped's face grows into a deep purplish color.

Mr. Chopped lets out a happy sound, his eyes pressing up into a cute squint.

“You happy!! Me lots happy to see you happy!! This place here for you and me now. We come together here now! You understand??” Mr. Chopped asks.

You giggle, and say “Okay, me understand now.”

…

I think I got carried away there LMAO

Anyway, I feel like with all of that being said, after hanging around you for a while and developing a mutual crush, there will eventually come a time when Mr. Chopped gets tired of this long period of unknowing…

Like, you two are OBVIOUSLY super close to each other —much closer than either of you are to anybody else there!

Y’all are at a point where y'all hesitate to even call each other friends!!

And to be so real with you, my guy…

Mr. Chopped has just straight up stopped calling you his friend!!

And it’s kinda awkward for others…

Cuz like… what exactly are you two???

At some point, Mr. Chopped will probably more or less ask you.

“You enjoy me, and me enjoy you. But together we not friends. You and me together what??”

Because you didn’t immediately answer in like 0.02 seconds, he immediately became fussy and demanded to be taken to Mr. Silvair.

And once you take him there, Mr. Chopped dismisses you, so… yeah…

A few days pass and you start to really miss Mr. Chopped.

I mean, he can’t possibly be that mad, right?? What even happened back then anyway to get him so mad in the first place??

You decide to go see him.

You don’t plan on apologizing because, like… what exactly would you be apologizing for??

But!! You want to get to the bottom of your sudden dismissal that day!!

And if come to find out you did offend him somehow, then you’ll apologize—because it most certainly wasn’t your intention.

Anyway, he wasn’t hard to find, thankfully. He was chilling in the lounge next to the infirmary room, which means Mr. Silvair was likely in the operating room doing… Silvair things in there.

He’s nodding off, going in and out of sleep.

It’s literally soooo adorable to look at.

But you’re here on a mission, so no getting distracted!!

Anywho, you startle Mr. Chopped, and he fusses at you accordingly.

But you cut to the chase, demanding to know why he was so upset the other day and dismissed you like that.

He pouts and says something like, “Me give question, and you not answer!” 

Suddenly, he smiles at you. “But is okay, I give answer for you!!”

“Huh?? What you mean?” You ask.

Joyfully, he responds, “You and me together now! You understand?”

OH WOW.

Erm…

Well.

You now have a boyfriend, and that’s just what it is. 

But hey!!

At least your boyfriend is super cute!! And fun!! And connected to a pretty smart, innovative guy like Silvair!

And!! Mr. Chopped absolutely adores EVERYTHING about you!!

You and Silvair are the closest people to him.

But, between you and him…

You’re obviously a little more special to him than Mr. Silvair!

[Part I (Mr. Big 🙆‍♂️) | Part II (Mr. Chopped 🪓, First Half/Second Half), Part III (Mr. Crawling 👣)]

[alwritey-aphrodite]

tasm peter with

• one character covering the other with a blanket when they fall asleep watching a movie on the couch

+ forehead kisses and maybe reader wakes up and pulls him in for cuddles?

I didn’t follow the prompts super closely because the muse had me in her grasp so I hope this is ok :)

Let’s all pretend this isn’t literally 4 months late…

Sleep is never something that has come easily to you. You’re either too hot or too cold, wired up or unable to get comfortable, with most nights consisting more of your flopping around than actually sleeping. It’s been this way as long as you can remember, so you’ve learned to live with it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t irritate you constantly.

“That much caffeine could kill a horse,” Peter jokes as you pop the tab on your energy drink. Most days, you try to limit your caffeine, but you’ve been getting less than five hours of sleep for the past week and you’re nearing desperation. You feel sorry for Peter, the sweetest boy imaginable having to deal with you and all your irritability, but he still presses a kiss to your cheek as he leaves the kitchen.

“It’s like I’m cursed or something,” you complain after taking a long pull from your can, relishing in the carbonation. You’re sure Peter’s tired of your grousing, but he still listens to every grumble, nodding sympathetically at your exhaustion.

“Maybe we can watch a movie later, it’ll help you relax even if you don’t sleep,” he suggests, and you know how much this kills him, knowing you’re uncomfortable and tired and upset all the time and not being able to do anything about it. He’s suggested everything to you, going out and buying supplements and sleep aids and blackout curtains just to try and see if they help you sleep even an hour longer. It melts your heart every time, almost as much as it breaks your heart seeing his disappointed frown when you tell him it didn’t help. You’re just waiting for the crash, knowing that soon enough your body will lose its fight and you’ll sleep soundly for a few nights, only for the cycle to start all over again.

“I’ll stop and buy snacks on my way home,” you respond, if only to see the way his smile lights up his entire face. You always think he looks beautiful, whether he’s laughing or crying or anything in between, but something about his smile makes him ethereal, and you do your best to make him smile as much as possible with the selfish motivation of ogling him just for a moment.

When you finally make it to the end of the day, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks, you make sure to pick up Peter’s favorite snacks, almost certain he has one of your favorite movies all queued up for your return. Upon your return, you’re a little shocked at the way he’s transformed your living room into your own home theater, making good use of the blackout curtains he’d bought and piling your couch with more pillows and blankets than two people could possibly need. He’s lit candles all throughout the room, casting a warm glow and just enough light for you to see the takeout spread across the coffee table, which with the snacks you’d bought, is almost more food than necessary.

In the gentle glow, you see him waiting for you, bringing your favorite drink out from the kitchen. You’re sure your relief is palpable, certain he can see the way your shoulders relax and your breathing settles, just a bit, at how wonderfully relaxing he’s made your apartment and how excited you are to finally be home. You set the snacks down, arranging them on the coffee table to compliment the takeout, and Peter shakes his head when he sees the spread, as if you’re ridiculous for buying his favorites when he must have spent hours making the living room as comfortable as possible.

You’re vindicated when the opening credits to one of your favorite movies rolls, and sitting next to Peter under your mountain of blankets, eating your favorite food with your favorite boy by your side, you’re more relaxed than you’ve been in weeks. A few minutes in, with a full belly and tired feet, your eyes start to feel like lead, and it takes more energy than you have to keep them open. Despite the pile of pillows, your head slumps against Peter’s shoulder, and he’s far too caring, far too relieved to see you asleep, that he wouldn’t ever dare to move.

It’s an awkward angle, but he presses a kiss to your forehead anyway, sweet and featherlight in an attempt not to wake you. He winces when you stir, eyelids fluttering, but you settle quickly, and he resists the urge to sigh in relief, certain the movement would only wake you.

You sleep through the night, and even though Peter’s lost feeling in his left arm and it seems like his neck has a permanent crick, he’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

[thatanimeramenchick]

I just thought of somethin(I’m sorry if I’m spamming or anything. I’ve got ADHD so my brain is constantly making ideas that I have to share. I do not wish to overwhelm you)

What about a Yandere Lucifer(Hazbin) with a immortal human reader? They were cursed from a young age with immortality because of a mistake there mother made. They can die but don’t really stay dead. Every time they die they get a scar so there covered with them both large and small. They go to university but was supposed to be sacrificed by a cult to Lucifer but obviously survived but now there stuck with Lucifer always being around?

Yandere Lucifer x Human Sacrifice Reader Pt. 1

You’re fine! Definitely not spamming. I just might take some time before I get to writing it. Lucifer has me in a choke hold, but so does Vox. I also wanted to do this idea justice, as it actually has a lot of potential, so it took me a little while before I finally felt like it sounded kind of decent. Also it was getting long, so going to be a two parter.

Part Two

Trigger Warning: Graphic Violence

Word Count: 2,431

---

You first realized something was wrong when you were twelve.

It was a warm August afternoon, perfect for a day on the lake. Only a week left before school, your extended family was having a last little hurrah camping trip. Water brushed against your shoulders as you waded through the water, looking for small fish and crawdads. Your cousins were on the shore, half asleep as they rested from swimming.

“Kids! It’s time for lunch!” you heard your Aunt’s voice fill the air.

Eager for food, like any other over-exhausted child, you turn quickly on the slick rocks, ready to run inside.

“Wait for me!” you cry out, taking no care in how fast you were moving.

And down you went. Your slipped right out from under you and sent you crashing beneath the waves. A roar filled your ears as your body ripped through the water and sent your head against the stone ground. Along with the cold water, you felt a hot liquid bubbling from the crown of your head.

Whether from shock or pain, you were unable to swim. You thrashed and attempted to scream, only letting more water into your throat. Surely someone had heard you falling and would come to save you, right? There was no way they hadn’t heard you.

Yet as seconds passed, you started to think that maybe no one had heard you. Every passing moment felt like an eternity as you were unable to hold your breath and water choked down your throat.

You swore that you felt your lungs literally ripping apart, splitting at the seams in a pain that was so intense you felt like you would black out. You suddenly knew what it was like to be the balloons you and your cousins had blown up with a little too much air and watched pop into a million pieces.

The oxygen must finally have evaporated from the combination of fluid filling your lungs and blood leaving your body. This was it.

You were going into the arms of the angels.

---

To this day, beneath your hair, was the large scar from “the incident” as your family referred to it.

Well, when they referred to it at all, which was almost never.

All you had remember was awakening in the hospital, gasps, tears, and even a scream filling the air as you sat up.

“I-impossible!” your aunt had said, gazing in shock at you, “She was… She had to be….”

“I told you, the doctors had made a mistake,” your mother had said calmly. She had been sitting beside you, squeezing your hand. Though her words were soft and controlled, there were tears on the edges of her eyes.

Your cousins started crying as well, coming forward, looking just as stunned. The only one who had seemed unsurprised was your mother, who held your hand in a death grip.

That day lived in infamy in your mind. Though nothing had ever been explained, small snippets from conversations you hadn’t been meant to overhear had formed an image of what had happened.

Finally, it had been noticed that you were not there, and your eldest cousin had been the horrified witness to your body in the lake, water red from the massive loss of blood. Though they had called the ambulance, it was clear to everyone that you had died before they had even got there.

Or so they had thought.

You had been laid in the hospital, check on, with no pulse or breath in you. Your family had been in the room crowding around you, all saying final goodbyes. All except your mother, who had simply grabbed onto your hand and insisted that you weren’t dead. The doctor had made a mistake, you would be fine. Naturally, your Aunt and Uncle thought that your mother was simply confused after the traumatic experience.

But you had woken up. Suddenly, something had changed. The machines detected life, and you had taken a gasping breath before groggily opening your eyes.

The nurses and doctors had seem just as spooked as your extended family, but once it was determined that somehow you had survived and your lungs were intact, they let you go. Someone must have made some kind of mistake at some point.

There had been no explanation, logical or otherwise for your salvation. Your mother said that you must be under divine protection, and you had accepted the answer, as much as you weren’t really convinced of it. Convinced or not, you were alive, and you supposed that was what mattered.

That had been nine years ago. It was something you rarely thought about anymore, though recently, you had been wondering about it. The whole thing was weird, and your studies in medical school only made it weirder.

You didn’t have time to think about it these days though. You were short on two things, money and time. Which is why you were now looking at the posters hung in the cafeteria for an opportunity to make some quick cash.

You had some cash flow from your repeated donations of plasma and blood cells, as well as the occasional babysitting gig in between studies. You needed more though, and the flier you were looking at was promising a lot of pay if you went to this interview and were accepted as a participant for an experiment that some seniors were doing. So many of you had participated in a couple of experiments for professors and students to earn a buck here and there. You could do it again. You ignored the vague wording, thinking that it was probably some experimentation that involved the subjects being in the dark.

So now, you were sitting on a park bench with the interviewer for the program, being drilled harder than if you had stayed out all night as a teenager.

“Do drugs, smoke, alcohol?” the interviewer asked.

“No,” you said.

“All right,” she said, "And... we'll need to know you're relationship history as well. Any boyfriends, girlfriends?”

“I had one boyfriend in high school,” you said, "Been too busy last few years though.”

“Just one boyfriend... Ok, and any hookups?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Like, you know, bar or party hookups. Casual sex.”

“I-I- Uh... No,” you said.

“So you're a virgin?” she asked.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t see how this is relevant,” you said, feeling uncomfortable.

“It’s necessary information for dividing the groups in our experiment,” she said, “Your personal name isn’t going to be connected to any of this. But we need to know as much personal information as possible if you want us to consider you for this. We need to know our subjects on a deep level.”

You sigh in irritation, “Fine, whatever. Yes, I am.”

“Ok,” she said, scribbling something down.

After a few more minutes of interrogation, she stood up.

“All right then, I think I have everything I need to know. We will be in touch if you pass all right? If you do, you'll be contacted on the meeting place for the experimentation,” she said.

---

A week later, you had gotten a call back from the same interviewer, saying you had passed initial testing. They assigned a day for you to show up at the lab. After you had arrived on the appointed day and signed some wavers, they took you aside and gave you some medication, saying they were conducting a test on REM sleep in three sessions. The first two had gone typically, and you had awoken, mind numb and fuzzy after the sessions. But something was different when you woke up the third time. You weren't in the lab.

You awoke, foggy eyed, your mind still grainy. The room was freezing, even more so than the normally cool temperature it was kept at. In a few seconds, you realized you weren't in the lab at all or likely the university. Your surroundings were totally alien as you realized where you were and who you were with.

You were looking up at a circle of men and women in black and red cloaks. A sickening smell of incense fills the air, and you feel something right digging into your wrists and ankles. In moments, you realize you have been tied down to a stone altar, somewhere dark and damp, like a cave or temple. Directly over you stands a middle aged man, holding a knife.

“She’s perfect,” he said, “A beautiful young virgin. Not tainted in any way, in good health. The ideal sacrificial lamb.”

The day of the incident was swarming back into your mind as you now struggled against the rope tying you own, as futile as you had felt slapping against the water. You couldn’t even attempt to scream, a cloth was shoved so far down your throat, the scent of whatever chemical they had dipped in it making it burn. Part of you wondered if you would vomit and repeatedly suffocate before he could even stab you.

“Oh Lucifer, we call upon you to accept this sacrifice,” the man called out, raising the knife, “May you be pleased with this offering, and in exchange bless our work. May we be more prosperous and rich than any others! We bow down to you!”

With his final words, he sliced the knife into your chest, so fast and swift that you didn’t feel it at first. It was as subtle as a breeze rushing past your cheek or hearing a whisper in the hallway. Small as it was though, you couldn’t deny that it was there. Within a split second, as he ripped the knife out, you felt some of that pain materializing. A muffled scream is silenced, and you feel the cloth sink deeper into your throat, choking you. Even if your mouth can not let out a sound, the surrounding flesh is painful enough that it feels like it is screaming in silent agony.

He continues to stab at you. The pain worsens as he tries to push the knife deep into your heart, but manages to instead stab into your ribs multiple times. Each removal of the knife releases a fountain of blood. Warm, fast, sleek streams bathe your skin and clothes as he drives the knife through you over and over again, without mercy. Penetrating, forceful, as if you were being violated in the worst possible way. The physical pain of the experience is nothing compared to the mental anguish of helplessness and terror you feel.

Finally, mercifully a few cuts sink between you ribs and pierce your heart. Within minutes, your world begins fading to black.

This is it. Finally.

At least that was what you hoped. No more pain, only peace.

---

Hell was real.

You hadn’t died, but you didn’t need to for you to experience a pure torment worse than death. Some twisted miracle, curse, whatever the hell it was, had saved you. You awoke who knows how long after the attack, alone and still strapped to the stone altar. You couldn’t lift your head, it roared with pain. The pure torture of regenerating, something you hadn’t felt in years. Your body burned and itched as it restitched itself back together, slowly. The process of regeneration was in some ways more gruesome than the actual attack had been. Every inch of your chest felt like it was on fire.

The cloth was still stuck deep in your throat, making it impossible to call for help, but part of you knew that even if you could have it probably wouldn’t attract attention from anyone you would want. Your only fear was that it would remain stuck in your throat for ages. The image of it resting there until your spit somehow dissolved it and allowed for you to breathe normally haunted you, as well as the image that you might die from an infection or suffocation like this a couple of times before that happens.

Your mind was so focused on this that you didn’t notice the glowing light walking around you. Sight fuzzy, you winced as the light fully entered your focus and before you stood a man, radiating light from his crimson and white body. Wings on display, emanating from his back. No further details could be caught though, as you were in too much pain to really pay attention. Despite this though, you had no doubt who this was.

Lucifer.

You were surprised. Always, your imagination had painted the devil as a creature of darkness. Even if he wasn’t a red horned creature, you had expected a creature that radiated evil and smoke. Yet Lucifer stood before you with an almost ethereal glow about him. While there was a certain flame about him, it burned with a cool, almost glorious light.

Well, you had heard someone once say that the devil portrayed himself as a creature of light. Perhaps the brightness of his form should not surprise you. A mask of goodness over his true evil intent. He leans over you, gazing at your half-alive form.

Finally, the devil reaches over to your face, gazing at you with a look that you decide must be curiosity. There is no way that it contains the pity that your mind at first thinks it glimpses. If this is the devil that the group worshiped, then there was no way any sympathy could be found in his eyes. He lowered his hand to your face, causing you to flinch, the pain exploding at your brief movement. Instead of the expected violence though, he caresses your cheek with tenderness.

“Poor little thing. Humans are such fools,” he murmurs, “The way they treat their own is downright atrocious.”

While you would push his touch away if you could, you find it impossible. The pain is too great to bother defying him. It is nothing compared to the torture your body goes through though when he lifts you into his arms. Chipped bones feel as if they are shifting through your sliced muscle and ripped flesh. You feel more blood flowing out of your body, like the lake sand would flow between the cracks in your fingers as a child. Even though you are unable to scream, you must have at least attempted to make some kind of noise as the demon holding you makes an effort to soothe you.

“Sh… It’s all right now,” you heard, “You’re going to be just fine. There’s no need to be afraid.”

It was the last thing you heard before pain consumed your mind and took you from consciousness.

[flippinpancakes64]

the cullens with reader who is a professional ice skater but is VERY nervous about their finals because they think they will mess up

The Cullens with an Ice Skater Reader

I have never skated before so... hopefully this is good

But I did go through a Yuri on Ice phase in middle school so maybe that will make up for it

Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it!

Edward:

He can hear all of your thoughts

And he does his best to shut them all down as soon as he hears them

He knows that you are a great skater

He's seen it before

And not only that, but he knows that you are amazing in other aspects of your life too

He has absolutely no doubts in his mind that you are going to do amazing

Does his best to reassure you

And will do anything you need him to

You want some cuddles? Of course

You don't want to see him at all and just want to focus and practice? Consider him a ghost

Alice:

She already knows that you won't mess up

She's seen it in the future

But she doesn't tell you because she doesn't want to interfere with it

She reassures you though

She tries her best to give encouraging words and reassuring promises

When you do eventually compete and don't mess up she tells you about her vision

You get a bit upset that she didn't just tell you that in the first place

But then she kisses you so all's well :)

Jasper:

He could feel your anxiety from a mile away

And it was persistent

It was rubbing off on him a little bit

Even though, logically, he knew that there was no way you would mess up, he couldn't help but feel what you did

At least to an extent

He used his ability on you pretty consistently at the house

Just so you could at least relax before your big day

Other than that he'd stay pretty much in the shadows

He doesn't want to distract you during a time like this

Will give you the biggest kiss ever when you're done

Even though he doesn't like PDA

Rosalie:

She could sense that you were stressed out

But she was genuinely confused as to why

She had seen you run your routine literally hundreds of times

And every time it looked perfect

Even when you did make a mistake, she thought it looked intentional

She told you as much too

Unlike the others, though, she would force you to get out of the house and out of the practice rink (? is that what it's called idek)

She would take you out for a day to get your mind off of things

She is not shocked when you do perfectly btw

Emmett:

He sort of has the same mindset as Rosalie

Like the amount of times he has watched you perform might be in the thousands

And he's only seen you mess up maybe three times

He doesn't get what you're so worried about

Like he understands being nervous

But he thinks you're being too hard on yourself

He does try his best to be there for you though

He will watch you do the same trick 100 times if that makes you feel better

You do perfectly obvs

But if one of the judges doesn't give you a perfect, let's just say that judge suddenly retired out of nowhere

So weird

Esme:

She completely understands being nervous

But she knows that you're great

She will also get you out of the house to get your mind off of things when she notices that you're a little too stressed

She tries to reassure you that you'll do great

But tbh she's a little nervous too

She really hopes that you being so anxious doesn't psych you out and make you mess up

When you do eventually do great she doesn't stop celebrating for a week

She gets Alice's help to throw a party

She invites the Denalis and all of their other friends

So proud

Carlisle:

He sympathizes

There's not a lot that he does anymore that he hasn't been doing for centuries

But there are times where he needs to perform a life saving surgery and he feels that moment of doubt

But he also believes in you and he knows that you can do it

He takes the day off work to come and watch you

He bought the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers that he could find

He will tell anyone that he can that you are his SO and you are amazing

Literally chatting up his coworkers and random patients that come in

Vampire! Bella:

Yeah she understands being nervous

Even after being turned she still feels like she will never be as good as Edward or Alice or any of the Cullens

But she also knows that you are fantastic

She wasn't really into sports of any kind but watching you on the ice makes her want to go full soccer mom mode

She does her best to be reassuring and help you to realize that you are really good and that this is just your brain being stupid

She does say "I told you so" after you finish and do amazing