#but it was cooler still somehow so yeah

[fierykitten2]

I may actually need Pokémon Sleep. These are adorable

[un-pearable]

i love the way you draw sonic characters omg

i’m honored, thank you so much!!!! i also like the way i draw sonic characters :]

i have drawn surge before, but it’s been a long time (plus she’s a ton of fun) so it would be my pleasure!! infinite thanks to @hishighnesstheprincess for the panels to redraw, now i’m off to get caught up on the actual comic

[cvnntagious]

Girls | M. Sturniolo

"Fuck your ex-man, I'm the man now / Think I feel bad? He was fanned out." -The Kid Laroi

pairing : Exesbsf!Matt x Fem!Reader

summary : What happens when you finally break it off with your cheating hoe of an ex, only to quickly find out his best friend can easily treat you better?

warnings : use of y/n, drinking, swearing, random ex bf name, slight chris x tara mention (i don't ship them, it's js for the plot), smut, bigdick!matt, gentle sex, body praising, 18+

a/n : this took a long time to finish, so sorry to anyone who was waiting for it. this fic was requested by my friend lily 👅 if anyone has any requests/ideas, feel free to dm me on here or put it in my ask box! (or feel free to just say anything, i get bored a lot so i'll answer fs)

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

You weren't exactly enthusiastic about this party, unlike most parties you ran around at over the past few years, earning you the title of LA's number one party girl. You usually loved the loud buzz of chatter muffled by the music, and the blinding lights filling large houses. This time was different. You couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling.

It'd only been about two weeks since you broke up with your ex boyfriend, and you'd already seen him posted up with multiple girls, seemingly loving the single life. Not like this was anything new though. It was the reason you'd dumped his cheating ass. Didn't mean it hurt any less though.

When you were invited to this big influencer party by a mutual friend, you immediately knew Cole would be there too. The thought of bumping into him alone was enough to make you reluctant to attend. Even so, you were expected to attend, just like you did almost every other party. Lord did you wish you could just get a break.

As you scoped out the party, eyes scanning the crowd while you slowly inched into it, you took small sips of your cooler. It didn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, your ex sitting on the couch with a girl under his arm as he spoke inaudibly to his friends around him. You had to rip your eyes away from him, honestly just glad you knew what part of the house you'd have to avoid for now as you pushed through the crowd to figure out what could be in the opposite direction.

It took a few minutes for you to make it to the kitchen because of all the people you had to excuse yourself past, but when you finally made it, slightly out of breath from the sweaty bodies thickening the air on the way there, you gawked at the display of large bottles set up all around you. "Someone came prepared." You heard a familiar voice say from behind you, causing you to turn your attention to him with a small chuckle.

"These parties never have the drinks I like, Chris," You replied defensively, placing a hand on your hip as you held your can of alcohol up to show him.

Chris couldn't help but chuckle with you. "Yeah?" He hummed, grabbing the can out of your hand to taste before making a sour expression, sticking out his tongue with a pant for dramatics, "Maybe that's 'cause nobody likes Smirnoffs." He handed your drink back to you with a small burp.

You rolled your eyes at the display, wiping the rim of your drink with your finger to rid it of Chris' saliva. "Clearly I do."

"All this alc in front you and you still somehow find a way to be picky," He replied teasingly before grabbing your wrist to guide you with him, "Come on. Me, Nick, and Tara are chillin' outside."

You couldn't help but giggle at the way he dragged you out of the sliding glass door with him, not caring for the people who'd tried to get your attention along the way to the pool. You smiled as Tara let out a loud squeal at the sight of you, instantly wrapping her arms around you as Chris let go of your wrist. "I knew you'd make it!" She exclaimed as she pulled back, holding your arms to take in your outfit, "And who are you trying to impress, girl? I'm loving this slutty look!"

If that comment had came from anyone but Tara, it would've been offensive. But of course, you knew what she'd meant. You smiled, giving her a quick pose at her words as you stuck your tongue out playfully. "Fuckk man, I guess I was just feelin' extra slutty tonight. You really like?" You played along, holding Tara's hand as she nodded.

"I do too," Nick chimed in, smiling as he placed a hand on your shoulder, "It's so cunt."

You turned to look at Nick excitedly, "Bitch, says you!" You looked at Nick's white and black outfit, topped with his iconic Cheetah print hat.

"What about me?" Chris asked, clearly feeling left out as he turned to us with a drink that had seemingly appeared in his hand.

You giggled. "You look great, Chris."

"Where the fuck did you get that?" Nick asked in a disappointed tone, snatching the drink from his brothers hand. "I thought we agreed you'd only have a few drinks tonight — the party just started."

Chris rolled his eyes, "I have only had a few... And then I'll have a few more later on in the night"

"Hey, where's Matt at?" You cut Nick off before he could say anything as soon as you noticed Matt wasn't with the three of them when you'd made your way over, hoping to stop the brother's argument before it started, "Did he not wanna come again?"

Nick, Tara, and Chris gave each other a look as tension instantly built up high in the air. A silence had fallen over the group of friends as they looked anywhere but at you. "He's... with a friend," Chris finally spoke up, clearly nervous.

You gave them a suspicious look before smiling. "Who? I wanna go say hi to Matt," You replied, your tone as bubbly as before to pretend you hadn't noticed the shift in their demeanors.

"It's-" Nick started, hesitant to finish as he forced out a small chuckle, "I'll just call him and tell him to get over here. I'm sure he wants to say hi to you too." Nick pulled out his phone and dialed Matt before you could even respond, plugging the ear his phone wasn't hovering over to drown out the music as he took a small step away.

You were silent for a moment as you looked back at Chris and Tara, who were both already looking at you for tour reaction. Tara cleared her throat after a moment. "Are you planning on getting laid tonight or what? You haven't been single in, like, two years," She finally said happily, stepping into you to hook her arm around yours and pull you away from Chris.

You chuckled, shaking your head at the way she joked around with you. "Planning on it? No," You looked down at her, unable to help admitting, "But I wouldn't be mad if I did.'

"Perfect! The first time we've been single at the same time," Tara spoke a little louder than she'd intended, "Maybe we can both go crazy in the rooms next to each other." She teased, glancing back at Chris, who was sipping his drink obliviously.

You gasped, "You have to be kidding." You tried hard to give her an unamused look, only to smile at her stupid jokes anyways.

She raised her hands as if to claim innocence while she laughed loudly at her own words. "I am, I am. I swear!"

Almost immediately after, you felt an arm wrap around your neck, putting you in a loose headlock as your drink splashed all over your cute, extremely revealing top. "Don't be over here eyedfucking my brother, Tara." Matt hadn't even noticed the spill. You gasped again, this time not because of a playful joke. He finally looked down to see your drink all over you. "Shit, sorry! I didn't mean to," Matt said from behind you, letting you free from his grasp.

You turned towards Matt with a small groan, looking down at your wet shirt. "Always with the stupid shit, Matthew," You complained, looking up into his tired blue eyes.

"Matthew? What are you, my mother?" He noked with a nervous chuckle, though he really did feel bad for soaking your shirt. "I'll help you clean up... let's go."

You rolled your eyes at him as he walked past you, causing you to follow him back into the house. You placed your hand on top of his shoulder to decrease the risk of losing him as he pushed through the crowd of hot bodies for you, nodding his head whenever he made eye contact with someone he knew. As you guys made your way through the living room, you heard the voice you'd been praying wouldn't all night. Cole. "Matt!" He called out, practically screaming over the music, making Matt slow his pace and flick his gaze up to your ex, who was still sitting on the couch only a few feet away.

Matt glanced back at you as you bumped into him, surprised when he'd stopped in front of the couch. "Come hit this," Cole spoke again, holding up a half smoked joint to Matt.

You poked your head out from behind Matt, scowling at the douchbags face. His eyes widened in surprise, his face twisting in confusion before he looked up to meet Matts tight-lipped expression, clearly unwilling to respond to Cole's offer. "What's up, man?" Cole let out a cocky chuckle as he threw he head back for a moment, "You were just hangin' with us and now you're sneaking behind my back with the girl who dumped me like I was some bitch a few weeks back?"

"Sneaking?" Matt questioned, "We're right in front of you."

"What happened to bros before hoes?"

"Hoes? You didn't date her for two years?" Matt replied begrudgingly, unable to contain his smalk smirk, "I spilled a drink on her... Was gonna clean her up, nothing more."

You looked up at Matt, who had defensiveness radiating off of him as he spoke calmly to his close friend. 'So that's why they didn't wanna tell me where he was. He was with Cole,' You thought, your attention switching between the two as they spoke tensely to each other.

Cole sighed, "Yeah, whatever dude. Fuck her if you want, I moved on." He says, laughing as he looks to his right, where a beautiful girl sat prettily under his arm. You grimaced, wondering if he'd do the same to the girl as he did to you.

You didn't have much time to wonder though, Matt gently slinging his arm over your shoulder before you pulling you back on his way. "Clearly, you whore," Matt mumbled as the two of you walked away, thinking you couldn't hear the way he spoke about his supposed best friend.

━━★

And now here you were, standing in a random persons bedroom as Matt stood in front of you. The hunger in his eyes was apparent, but he moved slow. His hands gently grabbed your waist, his thumbs caressing the skin underneath them in circles. "Lift your shirt. We'll hang it to dry." He urged in a soft tone, tugging at the wet fabric.

Your shirt wasn't the only thing wet though. You thought to ask him if you should hang your panties to dry too, but you were too absorbed in his small facial movements. The way he licked his pink lips. Or how his eyes refused to break from yours. You lifted your arms like a toddler, allowing Matt to curl the bottom of the shirt in his hands and lift it over your head.

"You know I knew, right?" He asked as he turned his back to you, hanging your shirt on the top of the door to the walk-in closet in this large room he'd found for you two.

"Knew what?" You asked. You both spoke questly, just above the sound of the muffled music two floors below, as if someone would hear you.

"He was cheating," Matt admitted, "God, I feel awful. I should've told you."

He walked back over to you, genuine sympathy written all over his face as you furrowed your brows at him. "I just... You're both my friends - or were - I didn't know how to tell you without all the drama," He further explained, sort of rambling before he met your eyes again, "And your heart— I wanted him to be the one to break it. Alone. Without me involved"

"Matt, it's oka-"

"So I could be the one to stitch it up," Matt cut you off, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your neck, "I'll show you how he was supposed to make you feel."

Matt wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him to suck little red marks on your lower neck and exposed collar bone. His soft lips on your neck was enough to have you panting, only to let out a surprised hum when they connected with yours. You lifted your arms to wrap around his neck as he slowly lowered you on the bed behind you.

Matt broke the kiss as soon as you were placed comfily on the bed. "I wish our first time wasn't at a party," He said, a little timid as he reached into his back pocket to pull out a condom, "I'd much rather you were laid up in my bed. I'd prefer if there wasn't the nagging feeling of needing to rush, so I could take my time. I just can't help myself... You do want this too, don't you?" Matt rambled on, looking into something that you'd originally thought would be a one time thing. But it seems Matt has other plans.

You couldn't help but giggle at the way his face flushed like a highschool preparing to have sex for the first time, nodding at his question. "Was this planned?" You joked, lazily pointing at the condom he'd taken out.

"This?" Matt started, looking to the condom you'd pointed at before shying away from it, "Oh, no! I'm just— parties, ya know? I'm a safe guy."

"Right." You lifted yourself so you where sitting on the edge of the bed, Matt standing between your legs. "Take it off," You stuck your finger into his belt loop, tugging him forward gently.

He only gave you and eager nod, following you as you scooted back on the big king sized bad, practically ripping his belt out of the loops once he had it unbuckled. His pants slid off of him the further up the bed he got, revealing the almost pulsating bulge in his loose underwear. You laid your head back on the pillow, Matt hoovering over you with an awestruck look on his face as he scanned your half-dressed form.

Matt slipped a hand under your back, unclipping your bra with one hand as he kept his eyes glued to yours. Embarrassingly enough, he let out a quiet gasp when your bra fell loose, lifting it off your chest with two fingers. Your nipples were already hard with arousal, but if they hadn't been, they would've hardened from the cold air hitting them. "You're perfect," Matt let slip, almost whining at the sight.

The uncomfortable feeling in his boxers only grew stronger when he saw you flushed before him, instinctively reaching down to palm himself to relieve some of that tension. You swiftly grabbed his wrist, stopping his movements. "Just fuck me, Matt, no foreplay needed. I'm already soaked," You told him hurridly, not wanting to waste time. To be fair, he said it himself, there was a need to rush here.

It didn't take long for Matt to free his length from his boxers, your eyes widening at the sight. He was huge. Bigger than you'd ever seen. Not only long, but girthy, and veiny. If you had to guess, he was a good 8½ inches. Beads of precum had already built up on his angry pinkish-red tip, causing him to spread it with his thumb and a hiss.

He looked up, gaze met with your gawking before he reached to remove your short jean shorts. He couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips when he revealed your soaked underwear, feeling pride in how wet he could make you without even touching you where you craved him most. He sat up again, crouching between your legs before leaning in to rub his member against your clothed clit.

You mewled at the friction muted by the fabric as he stroked himself against you, enjoying the teasing. Your hand reached up to caress his tattooed arm that rested on your thigh, forcing him to look up at you. He gave you a bashful smile at the way you furrowed your brows, then sliding his fingers under your panties and pulling them to the side to reveal your small cunt that leaked your juices.

He rubbed himself against you again, this time sliding between your folds. Your clit practically buzzed, cunt aching to be fucked. Matt leaned down to kiss your inner thigh, "You're so fucking sexy, baby, fuck. This perfect body," Matt praised, his tone desperate as he contined to tease agonizingly slow, "How could someone ever think there's something better than this out there?"

"Will it fit?" You asked, not meaning to stroke his ego as you looked down at the way just his shaft spread your lips wide with each stroke between them.

"Will it fit?" Matt echoed, unable to contain his laughter. "I'll make it fit," He assured you, pulling his length back to rip open the mangnum packaging labeled 'large' with his teeth and slide it on effortlessly.

Quickly, Matt went back to stroking his length between your folds, sliding just your tip in every now and then. You whimpered desperately, which only made Matt want to tease you more. He couldn't help himself, he just needed to hear those sweet noises. "Please, Matt. I want more," You pleaded, looking at him with begging eyes as you squirmed more and more beneath him.

Finally, he began slowly pushing himself into you. Your jaw went slack as he stretched you out in ways no one had before, careful not to dive in too fast in hopes to keep it as painless as possible. Your knees bent on either side of him as he groaned. "Fuck, you're so tight," Matt heaved, bottoming out, "I needed this– shit."

You panted beneath him, looking fucked out already. Matt waited for your nod before slowly pumping in and out of you with one hand on your hip as the other pulled your thong to the side. You squinted in pain at first before it slowly turned to pleasure, causing you to let out long moans. Your sounds let Matt know you were really ready for him, picking up his pace as time went on.

Moans began filling the room as your perfect tits bounced in front of your face. Matt lowered himself into them, not stopping his deep, sensual thrusts as he sucked on the skin of your chest between your boobs gently. One hand reached up to take your soft boob in it, kneeding it a bit before he attached his mouth to it. He swirled your hardened bud with his tongue as you moaned, both of your breathing becoming ragged.

You felt that familiar knot in your stomach, tembling a bit under his touch. He took his mouth from your nipple with a 'pop', itting back up straight to see your eyes screwed shit and one side of your face in the pillow under your head as he fucked into you. The image alone was enough to make him bust then and there, but he knew he had to wait. Your pretty sounds grew louder as his pace picked up, bringing you closer to the edge. "Fuck, Matthew! I'm- I'm so close. So fucking close," You babbled out, unable to open your eyes.

"Matthew?" He grunted, chuckling like he'd done earlier that night. Of course, under different circumstances. "I love it." No one ever called him by his full name, and he'd kill for you to be the only one.

Soon after, you reached your climax, practically screaming as you repeated his name like it were a prayer. "Matt," You chanted as he fucked you through your orgasm, cumming himself not long after with a loud groan.

Matt pulled out slowly and plopped on the bed beside you as the two of you caught your breath, both staring up at the white ceiling. Matt's length slowly softened, still fairly large, to your surprise.

"Who would've thought Matthew Sturniolo had an absolute chopper?" You teased as soon as you caught your breath enough, finally looking at him beside you.

Matt gave you a quick chuckle, rolling his eyes lightheartedly as he forced himself off the aide of the bed, standing up to grab your guys' disgarded clothing. "Whatever. Here, put these back on." He threw your clothes back onto you, including your now mostly dry shirt.

"I mean, seriously. And he knows how to use it?" You continued on as you sat up in bed. "What's the rush with this?" You picked up your bra, reaching an arm out to put it on.

Matt shook his head in embarrassment. "You haven't go to dance yet tonight," He explained as he slid his boxers back on, "It's what you usually do, and I wanna join you."

dt : @mattsturnihoe

[soobnny]

dating him | han jisung

❝ you found my heart broken and you helped me make it whole again ❞

chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | HAN | felix | seungmin | jeongin

i think you’re a second love type situation for han jisung

the one where he thought he’d never recover from his first heartbreak

but then here u come

i think han’s the type of person to feel everything

if he’s in love, he’s in LOVE

and if he’s hurt, it would just be overwhelming pain

so imagine how he was when he got his first heartbreak

he’d lose a little bit of his spark

maybe keep to himself even more than he used to

u come to his life in the form of a friend first

and han has unknowingly planted a seed that’s grown and grown and grown

with every interaction

with every laugh you’ve brought back

with every moment he was coming out of his shell again

until it’s fully bloomed into a love that’s very very real and very very present

han jisung would also love so beautifully

he knows what it’s like to be hurt, and he doesn’t ever want u to feel that same pain

he rly makes efforts

he is FULL of efforts

and he makes u laugh ☹️☹️☹️☹️

he communicates

and when the boys finally meet u, they’re very grateful but also

????!!!! why do u they know ur favorite color

and ur go-to order at the cafe

and the hoodie u like to steal from jisung the most

well turns out, han loves talking about u to his friends

they just know everything about u before even meeting u

he’d get rly shy about it but never embarrassed

he’d tell the whole world about u if he could

what else can i tell u

han jisung is just someone where nothing sounds crazy to him

so i think all ur dates with him would be so fun and adventurous lowk

amusement parks !!!!!

ice skating and roller blading

both of u would fall on ur ass

but you’d also laugh so much and somehow that makes up for everything

you’d be holding hands and skating with each other and looking at each other with lovesick smiles

I FEEL SICK!!!!!!!!

he’s always trying to impress u too

he tries to imitate figure skaters

kids don’t try this at home

ofc he fails miserably

obvious blushes when you’d tell him he was cute for trying

or when you’d praise him

anyways when i said he’s always trying to impress u i mean ALWAYS

he treats the relationship like he’s still pining after you

being the standard fr

he never lets go of the love

sometimes he’d still get shy to ask u out

somehow he doesn’t believe u actually said yes to him

he thinks he’s the luckiest boy

anyways, aside from adventurous dates, he equally values his inside time and quieter dates

he’s thankful u understand his shifts in his energy

on days u stay inside, you’d probably watch horror movies

look…. he suggests it….

it looked cool in his head to be all protective

you’d hold onto his arm when the jumpscares come

but

womp womp

he ends up being more afraid than u

and now HE’S holding ur arm

yeah it looked way cooler in his head

you’d play silly little board games together

or maybe charades

he’s so easily amused by sexual innuendos

he’s just a man guys

anyways

there are two things he loves to steal from u the most

aside from ur kisses

and it’s (1) ur perfume and (2) ur lip balm

u’d catch him putting on ur perfume just bc he wants to be surrounded by ur scent

it’s very comforting

one time, he was sick and the boys were taking care of him

and when u finally had time to take over and care for ur bf

u just …. smell ur perfume

“did you put on my perfume?”

“i missed you ☹️☹️☹️☹️”

DOWN BADDDDD

he’s so pouty and so cute

let’s suffocate him with the pillow

KIDDINGGGGGG KIDDING

and then ur lip balm

sometimes he steals the actual thing

sometimes he kisses you so he can have it on his lips too

han jisung is also the type to avail every possible couple coupon

and he’s always begging the cashiers to let u prove u’re a couple

it’s so he has an excuse to kiss you

so

months into dating him also means a thousand love letters

he loves writing u love letters

and u know sooner that he also writes songs

on ur anniversary, he reveals a song he’s written for you

and when he proposes, he tells u about every single one he’d ever written about you and for you

wish that were me 😂😂😂😂😂

TAKE CARE OF HIM

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[aha-chuu]

Here's the thing. "Renheng but Blade is immortal and nothing goes wrong" goes totally against the themes set up in HSR. But it's so fucking funny.

So, Dan Feng loves Yingxing whatever. They decide to make Yingxing immortal together and then BAM no one finds out (so no big crime to be arrested for) but there's two ways to play it. Either they have to slowly gaslight everyone into believing YX was a long life species this whole time, or they have to somehow pretend this is not YX, this is some other 100% naturally immortal dude and Dan Feng just has the Most specific type ever, to the point that he basically got his exes twin but immortal with a cooler haircut.

And with the gaslighting idea - I think it could work. No one's gonna notice that YX isn't aging for at least a few years, probably more since everyone they know is long-life and they likely have a warped perception of how regular aging works. So DF & YX just gotta wait like 5-10 years, slowly dropping hints that "oh yeah can't wait till our 150th anniversary!!" And Jing Yuan is like "... Hmm is that normal? That's probably normal?".

Cos also. Who's gonna mention it? Like it's gonna take so long for anyone to notice, is Jingliu gonna eventually sit them down like "you did a big sin didn't you" and then YX and DF just play dumb: "what??? Jingliu what are you on about? Is Mara eating all your memories of YX definitely being immortal this whole time?" So that's not good for Jingliu's mental health but whatever.

Anyway so Dan Feng and Yingxing have successfully scammed everyone but DF is still definitely the High Elder and absolutely no one wants him to be dating this guy. Also the dragon heart is missing cos it's in YX's chest and surely the Preceptors would check up on that? Like a renewal service? Some sort of 200-year check-up? Does DF have to take his bf with him so the aura is nearby? It's just a game of "how dumb are these guys?" Until all those preceptors reincarnate into ones who DF can convince "oh no the High Elder is supposed to give the dragon heart to their beloved. Yeah it's a ritual. Oh the immortality uh no Yingxing had that forever obviously".

Eventually YX is gonna get stabbed and he's definitely more immortal than everyone else. More gaslighting ensues probably, cos otherwise it's like?? He's just an abundance monstrosity (Jingliu is seeing red rn) and Jing Yuan has sussed it out at this point but yknow he likes YX; he prefers him being alive than dead. Jingliu is gonna stab YX for being an undying monstrosity and JY steps in - "nooo don't you know I mean ig your parents never told you but if uhhhh you suck enough dragon dick this is totally normal -" and anyway Sanctus Medicus get a lil fetishy sex crazed from that conspiracy theory.

Then later DF has to be reborn which is sad, but I like to think YX just takes like. A gap year from their relationship. He's a divorced old man he deserves a mid life crisis while DH gets the "plss don't fall in love this idiot guy again" speech from the other Vidyadhara but it's working like reverse psychology, DH is all "pshh I'm way too put-together for that!!" And anyway YX is still a hot piece of ass so DH fails immediately.

One day DH gets a dream memory about the whole sinning part of their relationship and has to come to terms with That™ meanwhile YX is sipping a mimosa while he's having a moral dilemma. "No babe it's fine it's like. Yeah it is a hellish sin but it's cute that you're so worried about it. No they can't try us for crimes we did so long ago don't worry" meanwhile JY is still dealing with the paperwork nightmare from YX's birth certificate definitely not being that of a long-life person's but ehh.

Basically fluffy unproblematic renheng where no one gets amnesiaed or tortured is great and good even if it laughs in the face of canon.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"What's the matter?" Daryl asked, coming to stand behind you as you stared into the scant closet. His body landed flush against yours and his hands pulled your hips back into him more tightly.

You sighed. "I don't want to go to this stupid event. How is it possible there even are fancy events anymore?" you asked. "It just feels wrong..." You turned in his arms and your hands landed on his sides. He gripped your hips more firmly, more securely. "And you have to work security, so I'm going to be by myself. I'd feel a lot better if you were going to be with me, right next to me."

"Yumiko will be there," Daryl reminded you, trying to sound reassuring.

"Yeah," you said vaguely. "They didn't even give me a choice. I understand why Tomi was hiding his medical degree. Just because I had a stupid, fancy degree in the old world now I'm stuck orbiting around all these assholes..."

Daryl chuckled and you looked up at him and met his blue eyes, which were narrowed slightly in a smile. "S'just one night. It'll be okay. And I'll be close by."

"Yeah," you sighed again. You turned back to the closet. "Help me choose something to wear?"

"Mmm," Daryl hummed. He left his position behind you and stepped forward to the closet. He shoved most of the hangers out of the way, reaching for one specific item of clothing. He held it out to you, clearly proud of his joke, and you smiled. It was his vest, leather arms stitched on for the cooler weather so it was a complete jacket.

You couldn't help laughing at his joke. "Babe... I don't think it's up to the dress code. They said semi-formal."

"Hmm. Alrigh'. Put one of them fancy dresses underneath it," he retorted, still smirking.

You grabbed the hanger from him. "Somehow, I don't think it'll fly... but I tell you what—maybe I can save it for later tonight when it's just the two of us. You know... as a complete outfit." Daryl's eyebrows lifted.

"Ya better not be teasin'," he drawled.

"I would never joke about something like that," you giggled.

Prompt: "Help me choose something to wear?"

[kairismess]

summer heat.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 description . . .

・:〃➜ with how hot the summer is getting, your favorite boys need some way to cool down and relax . . . preferably with you by their side.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ft. HAIKYUU BOYS – kenma, hinata, and suna.

KENMA.

it doesn't take long for kenma to start heaving, panting, and sweating underneath the heat of the deadly hot rays of the sun. he doesn't think he can last 5 more minutes under the sun with how hot the summer's been, even under the shade of the cute cat-themed parasol you bought for the two of you at the beach, this boy is still sweating an awful lot, reaching for your somehow cool, pool of melted ice for a cooler, for a pack of apple juice.

"is there... any more left..." your pudding haired boyfriend heaved with a raspy voice, clenching to the crumpled, empty plastic juice packet. you look into the box full of melted ice and wince as you break the news to him that he just drank his last apple juice box. the poor boy whimpers silently as he feels the sweat pool on the back of his shirt, and since you felt bad, you got up and dusted the sand off your lap, your hand extended out to him as the heat starts to get to him.

"a swim...?" he meekly repeats after you, his cheeks flushing with warmth rushing to his face, either from embarrassment or from the intense heat of the sun. you nod as you wait for his answer, with him taking your hand weakly, slowly pulling you closer to him with a smile. "...alright, alright, i'll take a dip in the water... but just a few minutes of cuddles...?" he pleads, his golden almond eyes begging for you to hold him to keep him from falling apart from the sheer ruthlessness of the heat.

HINATA.

hinata isn't usually one to complain about the weather, but with the rise of the past week's temperature, he's been pretty much exhausted every time he goes out; and it's a big bummer, because he so badly wants to take you out on a date and enjoy some sceneries together, go to the beach, have a nice dinner with you... but the heat makes you both too lazy to get out of the house.

he can't emphasize to you how much he wants to go out with you, while being in front of the fan, sweating a storm. you try to reassure him and tell him you two don't have to go out to enjoy each other's company, but your little tangerine wants the best date for you after being abroad for a long while and having to focus on his volleyball career and training months prior.

while your sunshine sulks about not being able to take you out, you scoop up a couple of bowls of ice cream for the two of you, handing one of the bowls to him. you explain to him that, even though you also want to go out with him, you don't need all those fancy outings to be happy with him–you're more than happy sharing some ice cream with him on a hot day.

you have no idea just how happy you made him, because it was like the clouds parted from the sun, and the room got five times warmer with the growth of his shining smile. "y-yeah! i guess i feel the same way too... i mean, all i want is to make you happy, the where doesn't really matter, all that matters to me is your happiness, love." he beams, and though you try to warn him his ice cream will melt, he doesn't mind, because his ice cream will stay sweet no matter how melty it'll get; for now, all he wants to focus on is you and how adorable you look eating up your ice cream... maybe hoping to feed you some on your spoon.

SUNA.

your boyfriend suna is usually calm, cool, and collected; making it hard for you to know what it is he wants or is feeling. but the nasty highs the temperature outside is reaching brings out the hidden character of your usually composed boyfriend, though in a manner you wouldn't expect.

it's a no-brainer that the heat can make someone a bit lazy to move their body to get things done, and your boy understands that too much, that he wants you to give yourself a break and cool off for a little bit from your chores at home and suffer from the intense heat.

and how would he get you to do that? by offering the perfect at home date between you two in your room–with a tv show to binge, a closet full of snacks, a minifridge full of cool drinks, and the AC on blast with him and your pillows and stuffed animals waiting for you.

"hey, um..." he calls out to you in his gravelly voice, gently grabbing your wrist, pulling you closer to him. his pale green eyes gazing at you, with neediness in those orbs of his. "i turned on the AC, and since, y'know, that recent show you've wanted to binge just released all episodes available, and the snack bar we have in our room is stacked up... why not take a break from the chores and just chill out with me, babe?" and how could you say no to his desperate pleading face?

[lowkeyrobin]

hello ! i was wondering if you would be able to write a fic of Percy ( PJO ) befriending a child of ares reader ( or hypnos , either is fine ! ). If you are not able to, that is alright as well! Have a great day / night !

- 🗡️

hi 🗡!! of course I could! I did child of hypnos because I thought it was cooler and shit idrk ; also gave reader some little sleep powers cause why not ; have a good day/night to you as well! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!

PERCY JACKSON ; slumbering demi-god

summary ; you meet good old Percy Jackson and helped him when he couldn't sleep

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; Percy is a little ooc but I was attempting to make him a little bit older (about 14-16 but no like danger or quests to go on yk)

word count ; 710

masterlist

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!" You exclaim, holding your shoulder after accidently walking into another camper.

"You're fine, sorry, that was my fault" He awkwardly smiles, "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry"

"What's your name? I don't think I've seen you before?" The boy asks, pushing his curly blonde hair away from his face.

"Y/n" You answer, rubbing your eyes a bit, "Sorry, really drowsy this morning"

"You say sorry a lot"

"I know, jackass"

"Gods, okay, damn"

"Oh, yeah, I know Y/n" Annabeth nods, "They're a child of Hypnos, like, the personification of sleep and slumber"

Percy nods, humming in response. "So, like, they just sleep a lot?"

"They can make people sleep slash fall into a deep slumber on command, basically. But they have to sleep a lot to keep themselves charged"

"Huh, interesting," Percy shrugs. "Like how I just drink gallons of water every day to keep myself hydrated? And somehow I don't fall ill to water poisoning?"

"Yeah, something like that, Perc"

You roll your eyes, sending the young camper to sleep on command with a wave of your fingers. "Sorry, but I'm not dealing with cranky kids in the morning"

You sigh, retrieving outside to get a breath of air before heading to bed.

"Hey, Y/n!" You hear a slightly familiar voice call.

You quickly turn your head toward the source of the sound, that kid you bumped into earlier today. He still wears the same orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, his blonde curls a mess upon his head now.

"Hi?" You reply, more like a question if anything. "I don't know your name, so-"

"Percy" He answers, "So, like, you can make people sleep on command?"

"Mhm," You hum, "What? You need some sleep?"

Percy awkwardly rubs the nape of his neck with a sideways smile. "Uh, yeah. Kinda, yeah"

You softly smile, walking down to him. "You're lucky I'm not forcing you to sleep right here, Percy. Lead the way home"

He spins on his heels, leading you toward the Poseidon cabin, which he ran and was the only resident of. He welcomes you in, apologizing for the mess of empty water bottles across the floor.

"Gods, how much water do you drink?" You ask him, picking a few up to throw them away. You were not navigating through that whole maze at a time like this.

"Uh, a lot," He answers, not really giving a definite explanation. "Sorry for this, by the way. I just haven't been able to sleep recently-"

"It's fine." You shrug, tossing the empty bottles into the bin. "What I'm here for, right?" You smile, re-tying the drawstrings on your pajama pants. "You can like, lay down, unless you're planning to sleep on the floor"

He nods, climbing into his bed. Halfway through the motion, you wave your fingers, and into slumber, he falls. His blanket is halfway draped over him, his arm hanging over the side of the bed.

"Night-night, Percy"

"Y/n!"

"Hey, Percy"

"You couldn't have at least let me get covered?"

"I'd quiet down, Percy"

"You-" He groans, "You know what I meant"

"You wanted to sleep, no?"

"I meant you probably could've waited for me to actually get in my bed before spelling me to sleep with your fantasy fairy powers," He clarifies.

You shrug, leaning against the fence outside your cabin. "You got what you wanted, Jackson"

His eyebrows quickly furrow, "I never told you my last name"

"It's almost like you're a camp hero, dude" You playfully roll your eyes. "How'd you sleep?"

Percy opened his mouth to speak but was quickly stopped, realizing that you had the advantage here and he'd already lost.

"Good" He admits.

"Just good?"

"Great, actually"

"Will you be recommending my services to other people? On a scale of one to ten, how likely is that?" You ask, mocking some trivia at the end of an online therapy session.

"Oh, definitely an eleven. I'll get you more money and clients, don't worry."

"Yeah, sure, buddy"

"Buddy?"

"I'm testing the waters to see how much I can annoy you"

Percy sighs with a laugh choking him, "I like you Y/n"

"Yeah, you're cool, Jackson"

"Okay, that's just kinda creepy."

"Okay, that's too far but not buddy?"

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! OOOHHH imagine another man getting touchy with the wife during soccer practice, and Miguel beats the living shit out of him lmao

👀👀

Miguel wasn't a violent man, but lately the subject before him was tearing his calm strings almost on purpose. You remained curt and polite towards him, avoiding as much small talk as possible with him, even made sure to show him that no man could actually compete against Miguel.

"Just ignore him" You had said to an apparently calm and serene Miguel that kept giving cold and warning glances at him.

The kids were away, doing a small routine and pre-work out before actually starting the game. Some of the parents took a turn into bringing the kids foods and snacks for later. It was your turn. You were unpacking the beverages in the cooler as Miguel was setting up the table with some lunchables and other baked goods you had prepared. Benjamin was spending a day with Peter and Mayday.

"I'll get the ice." The Parking lot was a few meters away from the field, away from the parents. You took the car's keys and walked over the trunk to get a few packages of ice.

"You need help?" The too familiar and raspy voice made you flinch in uncomfortableness.

"No, Thanks." Your voice was firm, the man, your allegedly fan, was a relative of Victor's dad. A cousin of the sorts. Despite having the previous clash, you somehow had worked it out just for the sake of Gabriela and the team. Still, you all kept your distance from each other to avoid any unnecessary interaction. Until, Alonzo, your fan approached.

"Ah, c'mon preciosa, those bags look heavy."

"Not your business anyways. Kindly, go away, you're making me uncomfortable."

Alonzo held his hands in defense, but your anger made one of the bags to slip and fall from your hands. Alonzo took the bag and touched your shoulder firmly

"Don't you fucking touch me! " You seethed loud enough as you flinched.

"Ay, corazón. You should be grateful that I'm helping you here. Look at the mess you're-"

A loud smack connected to his jaw, doubling him in pain as he stumbled on his feet. Alonzo struggled to keep on his feet as he fell on the floor.

"Como vuelvas a tocar a mi esposa, te rompo más que la puta cara, cabrón!" (If you ever touch my wife again, I'll not only fuck up your fucking face, dipshit.)

He growled as your eyes widened in shock. Some parents had witnessed the whole thing, some approached, Victor's dad included.

The kids were still in their practice, oblivious to the small fight that had broke out.

Alonzo was taken out of the field as Victor's dsd apologized, shame in his face. Alonzo still had the guts to actually threaten Miguel between broken mumbles.

The once familiar ambience dissipated, leaving a tense and awkward energy to linger. It had also been a shock to you, it was the first time in actually seeing Miguel so angry that he went physical on someone.

You remained quiet as you patched his swollen knuckles.

"You ok?" Despite him being the injured one, he asked for your well-being.

"Yeah. just... Let's forget it." your tone meek, as you gently applied ice on his hand.

[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing #4 (100 Follower Special!)

Have you got any that deserve to be on these lists? Don’t be shy! Send ‘em over.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

*This list contains mentions of assault, #4

1. Zero cursing is better than censored cursing

I made the mistake in the early days of writing a self-censoring character, and every “curse” she said just took the teeth out of the rest of the statement. I’m talking gosh, darn, dang, etc, not world-specific idioms a la “scruffy nerf herder” or “dunderhead” instead of “dumbass”.

Look to any American TV show that so, so badly wants to use f*ck or sh*t but has to appease the sensitive conservatives who still somehow believe strong language is worse than graphic violence and horrifying psychological damage. For shame! Your characters can be angry without expletives, so rework your sentences to include equally damning insults that don’t resort to potty mouths if you’re concerned about ratings.

Or go full-throttle into the idioms of the world or the time period like Pirates of the Caribbean. Or just… don’t. There’s zero modern cursing in the Lord of the Rings adaptation and not a single sentence that censors itself. The dialogue is above vulgarity and feels more *fantastical* that way anyway.

2. “Yeah, you aren’t the target audience.”

It’s kind of hilarious seeing the range of reader reactions to two characters I intend to have a romantic relationship. Some will go “I ship it!” after the first page of them together… and another will go “wait, I thought they were just friends” up until they kiss. Sometimes you might be too subtle, other times it might be better to just accept that you can’t rewrite your entire book to please one naysayer.

When I’m pitched a fantasy adventure book that turns out to be a by-the-numbers romance where no one is allowed to be a peasant and every important character is royalty in some way, with a way cooler fantasy backdrop, I get severely disappointed. That doesn’t mean the book is bad, it just means I’m not the target audience.

3. There is no greater character sin than making them boring

Unless you live in the wacky world we find ourselves in where any flaws whatsoever are apparently harmful depictions of so-and-so and not at all written with things like ~nuance~. I will gush over your heinous villain committing atrocities because he’s *interesting*. I will not remember Bland Love Interest who’s a generic everyman with zero compelling or intriguing traits or flaws.

There’s another tumblr post out there that I cannot find that says something like this, and I believe the post goes “his crimes are fiction, my annoyance is real”. Swap annoyance for boredom and you get what I mean. So, I don’t care what your character does so long as they’re memorable. I will either root for their victory or their doom, but I do need *something* to root for.

4. The line between “gratuitous” and “respectful” is actually very thick

Less what no one tells *you* about writing and more what no one tells screenwriters. Y’all do realize you can write a character who experiences assault without actually writing the assault, right? Fade to black, have them mention it in their backstory, or have the horrific aftermath as they come to terms with it. An abrupt cut to this devastated character when it’s all over and they’re alone with themselves can be incredibly poignant and powerful. This goes with anything sensitive, especially if it’s not coming from experience.

If you want to write it or film it respectfully, romanticizing assault, for instance, is when it’s framed as if either character has earned or “deserves” it. If the narrative in any way argues that it's justified. The victim might have "earned" it for any of the BS reasons we use in the real world, or the perpetrator might've "earned" it because of temptation, desire, pressure to assert dominance, etc. Representation is important, but are you “representing” to shed light on a misunderstood and maligned topic, or are you doing it to satisfy a fetish or bias in yourself?

5. Don’t let your eyes get bigger than your stomach

Fantasy has no limitations, which means you can dig way deeper into the well of your worldbuilding than you realize, until you look up and realize you’re stuck down there. I have never seen a more obvious inevitable disaster looming than the pilot of GoT season 5. Why? Nobody has any plans. They’re all just led around by whatever side quest the writers throw them on, twiddling their thumbs until the writers deign to pull the trigger on the White Walkers.

To the point that what should be a major character can skip an entire season because his arc is meaningless. Everything in the last half of that show was one big “eventually” while the story toiled around in an ever-expanding cast of characters and set pieces (seriously, it’s hilarious how jarring the extended version of the theme music became compared to the pilot episode to fit all these locations).

When you have too many directionless characters, too many plot elements, too many ideas you want to fully mature and get their due spotlight and then somehow combine them all together for a common foe in the end, writing can get tedious and frustrating very quickly. Why, I imagine, the book series remains unfinished. Fantasy is great for being able to create such complex worlds, but don’t be the snake that eats its own tail trying too hard.

6. No one cares about your agenda if you insult them to push it

This deserves its own post but here we go. Peddling an agenda is a paradox: those who agree with you won’t need to be preached to, and those who you want to persuade will instead reject you further because they feel belittle and disrespected. This is why so many recent “strong female characters” fail on both sides of the aisle. Feminists see an annoying caricature of the movement they’re passionate about. Antifeminists see an insufferable, shallow, liberal mouthpiece when they just want to be entertained. You have failed both sides, congrats.

The answer? Write a strong, nuanced, well-developed character. Then make them a woman. I know this has been said before but this BS keeps happening so clearly the screenwriters aren’t listening. Entertain me first. Entertain me so well I don’t even realize I’m learning.

7. Today’s audiences won’t react the same way as tomorrow’s

Sometimes genres or tropes get oversaturated and need a few years to cool off before audiences are receptive to them again—teen dystopia, anyone?—that doesn’t mean your story is inherently bad because it’s unpopular (nor does it mean it’s amazing because it is popular).

You should always write the book you want to read, not the book that chases trends. I can pick up a well-written teen dystopia I’ve never read before and enjoy it. I can continue to ignore Divergent because it has nothing to say. Write the book you want to read, but then accept that you might make no money because no one else wants to read it, not because they think it’s bad. And, who knows? You might get a boom of chatter months or years down the line when readers stumble upon an uncut gem.

8. Your characters don’t age with you

Depending on how long you’ve been working on your world and what age you were when you started, the characters, concepts, morals, and story you set out to tell might no longer reflect who you want to be as an author when all is said and done. Writing can take years, some of which can be incredibly turbulent and life changing. I wrote the first draft of my first original novel in my freshman year of college. Those characters and that draft are now unrecognizable and has left a world I’ve poured my heart and soul into in limbo.

I’ve slowly creeped up my characters’ ages. My writing has matured dramatically. The themes I wanted to explore in the height of the 2016 election are just demoralizing now. That book was my therapeutic outlet and, as consequence, my characters sometimes reflect some awful moods and mindsets that I was in when writing them. But nothing in that world grows without me tending to it. It’s not alive. Despite all the work I’ve done, there’s still more to be done, maybe even restarting the plot from the ground up. When I think of what no one told me about writing, staring at characters designed by someone I’m not anymore is the hardest reality to accept.

—

If you think I missed something, check out parts 1-3 or toss your own hat into the ring. Give me romance tropes. Mystery, thriller, historical fiction, bildungsromans, memoires, children’s books, whatever you want! Give me stuff you wish you’d known before editing, publishing, marketing, and more. 

Also, don’t forget to vote in the dialogue poll!

[redstarwriting]

the clash | ix. last caress

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.4k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, cavity-inducing fluff, crying hobie, mentions of giving blood, mentions of procedures, needy cat, mention of weed, allusions(ish) to s*icide

a/n: omg writing fluff takes me so much longer than anything else cause i’m squirmin around and squealin BUT here it is! second to last chapter! (also, i’m not black so i hope i touched on the haircare for black hairstyles right! if i missed the mark please let me know and i will re-educate myself!) what a wild ride, i’ll get the last chapter either up late tonight, or tomorrow! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! 

previous chapter: viii. love you to death

now reading: ix. last caress

next chapter: x. brand new

───────────────────────────────────

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the smell. Weed and incense. You groggily open your eyes, realizing you’re clutching a bat plushie. You grin. It’s cute, especially since it belonged to Hobie’s world, and you didn’t own a bat plushie. You sink further into the satin pillow, shocked at how comfortable you are in his bed. You hear the soft sound of a guitar playing, and you reluctantly and slowly sit up. Your intention is to go harass Hobie, but damn. Venom must have done a number on you. You’re sore as hell, and your energy is still almost completely gone. You successfully sit, but you’re immediately leaning against the wall as you do. The guitar playing stops, and you hear Hobie’s thick accent from the next room over. “You awake in there, love?”

“Yes,” you say, your voice is scratchy. How long have you been asleep? He walks into his room and leans against his door frame. He’s wearing casual clothes, his suit nowhere to be found, and yet somehow, he still looks cooler and more attractive than anyone you’ve ever met. “You know, you really should be layin’ down,” he says, and you shrug. He walks over to you and sits on the bed, next to your legs. You notice he has dark circles under his eyes, and he looks exhausted. “How are you feelin’?” he asks, placing his hand on yours. You shrug. “Honestly, been better.” He nods and looks down. You frown. “What’s on your mind there, Hobie?” He plays with your fingers, and you turn your hand over, grasping his. He visibly relaxes a bit. You softly squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. “I… need to tell you somethin’,” he starts, “Somethin’… bad.”

“What…?” you look nervous. He looks at you and frowns. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Seeing the fireworks with you,” you respond, and he nods. “Good,” he mumbles, “I guess I should start with tellin’ you you been sleepin’ for three days now.”

“Three days?” you ask, surprised. He nods, “Yeah.”

“Have I been here the whole time?”

“Mhm,” he says, dreading the next thing he’s about to tell you. “I appreciate it, Hobie, but why not just take me home? Do I look like I need a caretaker?” you joke, and he smiles a bit. “Yeah, actually, you do,” he responds and you grin. “But uh… you are home now…” he says, and you look at him confused.

 “What?” He sighs, scooting further onto his bed and turning to face you with his whole body. His other hand reaches out, and he cradles the hand he’s holding with both of his hands. “Right, lemme just… start from the beginnin’, then. Venom takin’ control of you… that wasn’t meant to happen,” he says, staring at your joined hands. “What shoulda happened was Venom was supposed to take over m–… the Prowler. And then, uh… then he woulda become the spider of your world after Venom bondin’ with you for a short while and gainin’ your spider abilities before returnin’ to the Prowler…”

“So, there would have been two of us? One good and one bad?” you ask, and Hobie looks up at you with a sad expression. “…No. No, there woulda been one bad cause… well…”

“I was supposed to die…?” you whisper, and he nods, his grip on your hand tightening. “I woulda saved you either way, but… I accidentally-on-purpose interfered and–”

“You killed the Prowler,” you finish his sentence, and he looks at you surprised. “Venom mentioned something about you killing someone, so…” you mumble, and he nods. “Yeah… yeah, I kinda lost my cool for a bit after seein’ what he did to you and uh… took matters into my own hands,” he says, and you nod slowly. “What did Venom mean by you killed yourself?” Hobie freezes and looks down again. How the hell is he supposed to explain this one? Guess he’ll just say it and accept whatever reaction you have. “The Prowler on your world… was me,” he whispers the last part, feeling himself tear up. He prepares himself for you to pull your hand away and use what little energy you had to travel to Gwen’s world and never talk to him again. He would completely understand, learning that someone identical to him ruined your life in so many ways must be jarring.

So, he prepares for the worst.

What he doesn’t prepare for is to feel your hand on his cheek, gently wiping away a single tear that escaped down his cheek with your thumb. “That wasn’t you, Hobie. He may have had your face and your name, but… he wasn’t you,” you assure, and he swallows the lump in his throat. The anxiety wracking his body eases slightly, and he lets out a shaky breath. One of his hands comes up to grasp yours on his cheek, holding it there as he leans his face into it, closing his eyes. He feels another tear fall, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t agree with society’s take on masculinity. He opens his eyes again, looking at your face. “Don’t cry, love,” he hears you say, and he gives you a small smile. “Nah, that’s my nickname for you.”

“And?” you say, grinning at him softly, “I’m not one to necessarily give a fuck what you say.”

“Cheeky. You’re lucky I loved it,” he says, and you softly laugh. “But uh… right, so I killed myself, sorta.”

“In a way.”

“A different me. Did you know he worked with the cops?”

“Oh yeah. They hate me. Another clear indication that he is not you in any way except physical,” you say, and he grins. “Well, in the fight we had–”

“Did he hurt you?” you ask, and he shrugs. “He tried. I won, though. Obviously. But the fight was in Oscorp Labs, and durin’ it… I broke some glass, releasin’ Venom to the outside world like the bloody dickhead I am,” he explains, and you nod, but give him a look. “You’re not a dickhead, Hobie. If you weren’t there, evil you would have bonded with it because he wouldn’t have died, so… maybe it was a good thing?” you suggest, trying to lighten Hobie’s dark mood. “Maybe. But then Venom followed me back to your flat after I killed who it was originally supposed to bond with,” he says, and you frown. “It probably wanted to bond with you,” you say, and he raises an eyebrow. “It told me it feeds off of the life force of humans, and the easiest way to make it more powerful is for the host to have strong negative emotions. That’s why it taunts and belittles whoever it has control of. To piss them off. It probably saw the anger that drove you to kill and figured you’d be the best host.”

“But then I went home before it could attach itself to me, so it attached to you instead,” he mumbles, and you nod. He sighs. This really was all his fault. “Well… yeah so it attached to you, and then you remember what happened next.”

“Yeah,” you nod, and he rubs the back of your hand against his cheek with his thumb. “So, we did end up successfully killin’ the wanker,” he says, and you nod, “but in doin’ ‘at… we killed your world with Venom.” You freeze. “W-What?” You draw your hand away from his face due to the shock of the statement. He subconsciously grips your other hand tighter. “Venom was supposed to be the spider-person of your world… there were too many canon changes,” Hobie explains, and you feel your chest tighten. Now you’re the one crying. But seeing you cry and look so defeated makes him cry more. “I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry,” he chokes out. He loosens his grip on your hand, fully expecting you to pull away, but you don’t.

“Everything… everything’s gone?” your voice is weak, and he opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, he’s interrupted by a meow. You turn your head, and see a black cat, looking up at you before hopping onto the bed and nuzzling against your side in an effort to cheer you up. “Shadow…?” you mumble, and he meows. But he doesn’t look like the Shadow you’re used to seeing. He looks more like a cat from Hobie’s world. “We saved what we could,” he whispers, and you look at him again. He smiles sadly at you. “I told Gwen, Miles, and Pav to grab everythin’ they could… they got everythin’ but the furniture, it’s all out in the sittin’ room… figured you probably wouldn’t want to move in with me after hearin’ bout what I did, so… we could move you to one of the other flats in the buildin’.  Y’know it’s an abandoned buildin’, so there’s loads of rooms, and you wouldn’t have to worry ‘bout payin’, and–”

“You made sure my things were safe…?” you cut him off, and he looks at you. His focus was drawn away from you during his rambling, so he didn’t notice the realization of just how much he cared about you spread across your face. “Of course… it was the least I could do,” he answers, “I also asked a friend for that lil bat for you to have while goin’ through the genetic procedure. it was all my fault this happened, so helpin’ you adjust–” 

“Adjust to what…?”

He takes a deep breath. “Miguel has a way to alter the genetic code of someone to have ‘em switch worlds… when we found out your world was gonna… disappear, we prepared. After the fight, I took you to Miguel and we successfully changed your genetic code. We did the same for Shadow, and all your things,” he explains, and you look at your hand. Sure enough, you look like you belong in Hobie’s world now. You didn’t notice the change before. Not until this very moment. “I had to give a lot of blood to continue to stabilize your genetic code changin’, so if I look like shit, that’s why” he admits to you, “But I would do it all over again without a second thought.”

“You don’t look like shit. That’s virtually impossible,” you mumble, and he smiles softly. You look down at Shadow, scratching between his ears with your free hand. Hobiie looks down, feeling another wave of emotion crash over him. He takes a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry, (Y/n). This all happened because of me… it’s my fault,” he whispers, and you gently put your hand under his chin, lifting his head to look into your eyes. “Stop doing that.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Blaming yourself,” you say, wiping away some of his tears. “Can’t help it,” he mumbles, his voice shaking. “You can. Just takes time,” you respond, smiling softly at him through your own tears. He wipes away some of yours in return as the two of you stare at each other, no words being spoken. His eyes flick down to your lips before returning to your gaze, nonverbally asking you for permission. You nod slightly, and the two of you slowly lean toward each other. When your lips meet, the both of you immediately relax into each other. The two of you stop holding the other’s hand, but you quickly wrap your arms around his neck as he wraps his around your waist, pulling you closer. You two only break apart from each other to take a breath, but you keep your foreheads together as the two of you stare into each other’s eyes.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t want to move in with you?” you whisper, and he grins. He gently rubs up and down your sides, humming in response. “Cause I’m an absolute turnip,” he mumbles, and you giggle. “Nah. You’re more like my hero,” you say, and he chuckles. “Always, my love. Always,” he whispers, kissing you again. You smile into the kiss, causing him to do the same. Shadow’s annoyed meow makes the two of you look down at him, and Hobie laughs. “Little mate can’t stand that he’s not gettin’ all the attention,” he says, taking one of his hands away from you to pet him. You yawn, and Hobie looks at you. “I think it’s time for you to get some more rest, my love. Your body’s goin’ through a lot right now,” he says, and you nod.

He moves to get up, but you tug on his arm. “You need rest, too, Hobart,” you say, and he grins. “Are you sayin’ you want me to stay?” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “On second thought…” you start and his smile falters. “No, wait,” he says a bit too quickly, causing you to laugh. “Get your ass in here before I change my mind,” you say, and he slips underneath the covers. He maneuvers you so that he’s underneath your body, and he holds you tightly to his chest. You bury your face in his neck, and he smiles. “You’re lucky I got my durag on,” he mumbles, and you hum in response, already starting to feel the effects of sleep overtake you. “Y’know, I thought you’d be a little more upset with me,” he admits, and you sleepily shake your head. “Death is inevitable, Hobie. Instead of giving into the inevitability of the end, I like to see the beauty in it. Although my life as I knew it has died, a new life is beginning, and I think that’s beautiful,” you mutter. He grins. “You are such a fuckin’ goth,” he mumbles, and you playfully smack his chest. “Maybe I was wrong before...”

“What’s that?”

“Maybe not all people are selfish assholes. I know one who isn’t,” you trail off, falling asleep. He softly kisses the top of your head, “Maybe I was wrong about some shit, too, my love.”

Shadow curls up beside Hobie, and he places one hand on the cat while the other keeps you pressed against him. He’s so tired, that he doesn’t move at all during the sleep that he gets, which is unusual for him. But at this moment, he’s never felt more content. Just him, you, and Shadow in yours and his home.

He could get used to this.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

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*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( in the least conceited way, a lot of people have been asking and some of the requests get lost because my brain short circuits when i see how many people are following along. feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!

[f0point5]

Jealous Emilia after they get together plss I am beggingggg cook this for us plssssss 🙏🙏🙏

Not me rewriting this no less than four times and still hating it 😂 but it’s not going to get any better haha. This was hard to write because I actually don’t see Emilia as the jealous type. I kind of drew off a lot of her known insecurities and alluded to her kind of struggling with the “wag” role a bit so it’s not just her reacting poorly to Max being fawned over by a girl because I don’t think that would be true to her character. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

✨Set in Jeddah 2024✨

And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

If there’s one thing to be said for the Jeddah paddock, it’s pretty at sunset. You watch people moving through the paddock bathed in golden light. The ground looks like the yellow brick road. Even though it’s getting cooler now as it gets closer to qualifying, you still choose to sit inside Red Bull hospitality. You’re also sitting inside because Max said he wanted to hang out before quail. Even though he’s spent the last forty-five minutes talking to one of the hospitality guests.

Amy, something or other. She races GT cars in some series you’ve never heard of. You’re not sure what connections got her the invite to the garage but Max had been herded away by one of the media reps to take pictures with her so she must be someone’s daughter. They seem to have hit it off, you note. He’s in full maxplaining mode, bending down to the line of his own hand as he illustrates what looks like an apex. Amy isn’t even watching his hands, she’s watching Max. Hazel eyes just sparkling as she memorises every inch of him. Yeah, you know that look well enough.

And it’s not that you mind. He likes to talk racing, he likes racers. It’s not like you know what it feels like to driver a car at top speed, and more importantly you don’t want to know. The hot laps with Max were more than enough. You can’t be everything to him and you don’t need to be. You tell yourself you don’t want to be. It’s good he has other people to talk to, because it’s not like you can ever really understand his competitive streak. The man who knows nothing except how to win will not always be able to relate to the girl who has always been too afraid to lose.

No, it’s not bothering you that Max is talking to her. It’s bothering you that she has the most obvious crush on him since…no, actually, this is the most obvious crush ever. She’s played with her hair so many times you just know karma is going to make her bald someday. You hope you’re there somehow.

“Hey,”

You jump at the sound of Checo’s voice. He sits down at the end of the table, brandishing Kitkat, which he slides over to you.

“Max has made a new friend,” he says, nodding in Max’s direction.

You tear open the wrapper with far too much aggression. “So I see,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

“She races, right?”

You nod, biting into the chocolate. “GT, apparently,”

“Lots in common,” Checo says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “You have to watch your back,”

You know he’s joking. You know that in no universe are you in competition with her. And yet, his words sink under your skin under your blood is curdling at the sight of Max laughing at something Amy says.

“I don’t have to watch anything,” you say with shrug, turning towards Checo. “If she can take him she can have him.” You push your hair over one shoulder and run your tongue over your teeth.

“Whoa,” Checo chuckles, throwing his hands up like he’s being faced with a hungry lion. You suppose since he has a wife, he knows the look well enough. “I was joking.” When you don’t react, he shakes his head. “It’s Max,”

You know what he means. It’s Max, not Chuck Leclerc. It’s Max, not Danny Ric. It’s Max, not Checo. But it’s Max. You don’t have to worry he’s going to lose his mind over the actresses or supermodels, but he sure seems to be respectfully admiring his female alter ego.

It’s like he can sense you thinking about him, it’s uncanny, really. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him walking towards your table with Amy in tow.

Fake smile, it’s fine, she’s just a fan.

Max introduces you, and you smile and shake her hand and ask her if she having a nice day, because you’re Max’s girlfriend, so you owe it to him to be polite. She has no such obligation, although you might be imagining her flinch when Max says the word girlfriend.

“I think it’s the best day of my life,” she says in answer to your question. The telltale flicker of her eyes in Max’s direction as they sit down almost making you roll yours.

Max doesn’t notice, he’s more interested in taking your Kitkat out of your hand and taking a bite. He bites it so that all four sticks have the end missing and you wear you’ve never been so disgusted by this man. For a second, you think Amy can have him.

“Amy races GT cars, like the ones we tested in Portugal,” he says to you now, his hand disappearing under the table to rest on your thigh and trace circles with his thumb like it’s a habit. “We are just talking about setting up a test for her with Verstappen com,”

Oh, great. So not only is she utterly bewitched by the ocean eyes, you’re making her dreams come true. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Ah,” is all you say, sharing a look with a smirking Checo.

“That would really be such a dream come true,” Amy says, and you almost laugh. “I’m a big fan of yours, I think it’s so cool that you’re involved with things outside formula one. You should come to a race sometime. I owe you paddock passes,”

You met him three hours ago, and he isn’t even the one who invited you. Do you owe him a blowjob as well, Amy?

“Yeah. Our schedule is a bit hectic but yeah, it would be good to fit that in soon,” Max says, turning to you. “Right?”

What am I? The secretary? Because in case you didn’t notice, she didn’t fucking invite me.

You just shrug.

“GT racing doesn’t exactly draw the influencer crowd,” you are definitely not imagining the way her eyes slide over to you before she looks back at Max to say, “it’s really good racing,”

You zone out right then and there. It’s like your brain short circuits from the energy it’s taking not to reach over, grab this girl by her stringy extensions, and rip. If she and Max keep talking, you don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it. You notice Checo noticing your discomfort, even as he engages the other two in conversation. For all his quirks, Checo reads human behaviour much better than Max. Though you don’t need to be a body language expert to see how much this girl likes him.

She looking at him like she wants to eat him, hanging on unspoken words, fingers twitching on the table like she’s desperate to touch him. And he’s nodding along, because they’re so aligned that whatever she says he agrees with, and the maxplaining is one-handed now but no less enthusiastic, and you’re about to dig your nails into his skin because he is not going to have one hand almost up your skirt while another woman is flirting with him.

All these thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of one of the Red Bull media managers.

“Amy, we were hoping to get some pictures of you with the car, if you’re free?”

“Yeah, sure, one second,” she says, turning to Max. “Which way is the garage again?” Like she doesn’t have someone who clearly just came from the garage standing right next to her.

“Just through there, keep going straight,” Max says, pointing to the corridor with engineers walking in and out. You give the girl the benefit of the doubt that she’s not that stupid, just desperate.

Reluctantly, she gets to her feet. “So, I’ll give you a call to set up the test?”

“Yeah, sure,” Max says. “Or you can call Raymond. He’ll put your team in touch with the right people,”

“Okay, awesome,” she says, leaning down enough that you can see right down her shirt. “It was really great to meet you. And I meant it about the GT race,” and then, as if remembering she can’t be rude, she glances at Checo. “You guys, too,”

You wave her off, and your smile doesn’t even fall. Because it’s funny. It’s funny that a grown woman would behave like that in front of a man’s girlfriend. It’s funny that a woman gunning for sponsorship would behave like you does regular shifts in something called the “Champagne Room”.

And it’s absolutely hilarious that Max turns to you, without a care in the world, and says, “I’ve got such a headache. I stood up into the cupboard in the garage, it hurt so bad,”

You give him tight smile and pull out your phone to text Lily to see if she’s still with Alex or if she’s free for a catch up.

“What?” You hear Max say above you. You ignore him. “What? She the-“ You look up just in time to see that Checo is mouthing something to Max. “Jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” you snap, leaning back in the your chair to glare at both of them. They give each a mocking grin. “Yeah, very funny,” this sets them off snickering like school kids. “Fuck both of you.”

You get up and stalk through the room and back towards the garage. You don’t even know what you’ll do when you get there since being Max’s girlfriend had put an end to you just wandering down the pitlane and allowed in any garage. Maybe you’ll just try and find GP. If Max doesn’t catch up to you first. You can hear him calling you.

“Leibling, wait,” he’s right behind you now, and you hear him almost stumbling as he leans forward to catch you by the wrist.

You shrug him off, but stop at the door to his driver room and push it open, jerking your head to order him inside. He may be a dick, but he still deserve for the whole team to know his business. He steps into the room, reaching for your waist but you move out of his way and leave him to close the door while you lean against the physio table on the other side of the room.

He sighs when he sees how you’re looking at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I mean, I did. Not at you. I didn’t think Checo was being serious,” he defends, and by the end of his sentence he’s fighting an incredulous smile and you squeeze the edge of the physio bench to stop yourself pulling your hair. Or his.

How can this guy understand complex tyre strategy but not basic human interaction?

“You didn’t think he was serious that I was annoyed by someone flirting with you in front of me?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow. “And that I wouldn’t be annoyed at you making fun of me for it?”

Max scoffs. “She wasn’t flirting with me,”

“Oh, please.” You let out a scoff of your own. “You didn’t notice me flirting with you for three years, do not pretend you’re an expert,”

“I noticed,” Max argues, “I just didn’t take it seriously,”

“Which is why you have no leg to stand on,”

“Right, because I was just supposed to believe that you suddenly-“

“It wasn’t exactly sudden-“

“For God’s sake,” Max groans, an expression of abject confusion twisting his face. “What are we even fighting about?”

“You enjoying Lella Lombardi over there slobber all over you, and enjoying it,” the exasperation gets worse when Max’s eyes widen like this is the first he’s hearing of this entire discussion.

“I’m- she- what?” He splutters, his head shaking in disbelief. “Is this one of those Tiktok pranks?”

“I get that she’s a pilot and that makes her automatically interesting, but until I hear otherwise, you’re still in a relationship,”

Max looks at you like you’ve grown a second head; shock, concern, and a good amount of unadulterated disgust. “You can’t think I was looking at her…like that,”

The way he says it, like he’s afraid to catch cooties, like it’s it’s inconceivable, like you didn’t still have bruises of your hips in the shape of his fingertips, takes all the fight out of you. Checo was right; it’s Max. It’s feels like someone’s let all the air out of a balloon. Your shoulders slump and you sigh.

“Because that would be crazy?” You lift yourself onto the physio bench as you speak. You’re not even really sure what you’re asking. “Max Verstappen, who likes only one thing on earth, that one thing being racing, attracted to another driver rather than his influencer accessory girlfriend?”

“Actually, I like two things,” he says with that boyish smirk that has been making your stomach do backflips for longer than you care to admit.

“Stop laughing at me,” you whine, fighting the urge to smile.

“I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that she upset you. I’m sorry that I upset you,” he says, taking a careful step closer to you, but he stops there. “Even if I don’t know what I did,”

He really has no idea. He is painfully, adorably clueless.

“Nothing,” you say, because you don’t know either. Sometimes it’s just inexplicably overwhelming being Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. “Just you being you, I guess,”

Max frowns at that. “I didn’t know being myself was so offensive,” he mumbles, and you instantly feel guilty. You of all people shouldn’t make him feel bad for how much space he takes up. You of all people know how much that bothers him.

“No, it’s not that. It’s not-“ you struggle for a way to explain it. Max takes the opportunity to cross the rest of the room and stand in front of you, his expression telling you he’s waiting for you to finish. “It’s not about who you are, but sometimes the way people act around you is just…and you’re so used to it, you don’t even…you just forget who you are sometimes, Max,”

He nods soberly. “Yeah. I do, and I’m sorry,” he says. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls your legs apart and slots between them as he drags you to the edge of the bench so that you’re pressed against him, leaning back to look up at him. “But I never forget who you are, which is the most important bit,”

You can’t help but smile at him. He’s so simple. And not because he’s unintelligent, but because he’s guileless, because who he is has never scared him. He smiles back, and it’s unguarded and unbridled and you almost forgive that girl because you’ll be damned if you don’t have a crush on him, too.

“Was she really flirting with me?” He asks curiously, looking down as his hands find your and entwine your fingers.

“Oh, yeah,” you say, and he frowns, the wheels working in head as he tries to figure out how he didn’t notice. “Like me at your mum’s on Christmas Eve in 2020 level of obvious,”

“Well,” he says with a huff. “She just blew her chance at a test,”

“You don’t have to-“

“Wait, you were flirting with me at Christmas at my mum’s?”

[thehouseofurmotha]

Recently i had a dream about Bakugo and it made me realize how his quirk would probably make him a walking furnace, like his body emits heat like one but he’s a little cooler in the colder seasons of course. And since hes hot as fuck (lol) he’d most likely sleep naked or at least shirtless and in just his underwear with his fan or ac hitting him. Also his cum is probably like hotter than average, you know? Not like a skin burning hot just hot enough to make your skin tingle like it desperately needs water (since he also eats a lot of spice) could you maybeee write something about that? If its not too much to ask of course <3

-💗

I don't write smut currently, but I will write about the other stuff ! I'm gonna do it in the form of headcannons cause I feel like that'd be the easiest to cover it all <3 I hope you enjoy!

• You genuinely cannot tell if you're freezing or overheating while sleeping with him. He keeps his house absolutely freezing cold, and somehow manages to sleep in just his boxers. But then again it feels like you're burning when you cuddle with him, so you tend to curl up on the other side on the bed wrapped up in blankets.

• He explains to you that it's because of his quirk that he's super hot all the time. You also find out that he fucking hates being hot which is why he keeps it as cold as he can in his house. Like homie will still have the ac on during the winter.

• You've accepted that you're just going to spend the rest of your life freezing.

• You do love cuddling up to him in the cold months, because he's not as hot as he is in summer so it balances the temperatures out.

• You do notice that when you kiss him, his saliva leaves a small burning sensation on your lips. Like the feeling you get when you put a lip plumper on. You love the feeling though.

• Maybe maybe maybe, you have an ice quirk. So you're always like a popsicle, and he warms you up and you cool him down to just the right temperature while you guys are sleeping.

• or maybe you have a water quirk, and I'm the summer you'll take his hands where he's the hottest and put some water on it to see it literally start to sizzle. You understand why he'd rather you hold onto his arm than his hand.

• As we know he is always constantly fucking sweating, and you fucking hate it. You accept it and just get over it cause you love him.

• He'll absolutely fuck with you when he figures this out rubbing his arm on you or taking your hand and put it on the back of his neck after a work out.

• Then u get pissed at him and ignore him and he's like 'sorry babe I won't do it again.' And ur just like 'yeah I'm sure you won't do it again' with the biggest fucking glare and he just died laughing.

• So your form or retaliation is forcing him outside when it rains, whether it's just cause you need to go to the store, or whatever. You will force him out there some how.

[sivyera]

Httyd request here!

The gang’s reaction to reader having a cannibalistic dragon?

(Death song, Deathgripper, Cavern crasher, Red death, Slither song, etc.)

Fem!reader

that's such a cool idea! problem is that red death and some other cannibalistic dragons cannot be tamed, i know that, so let's pretend that they can be tamed. i really hope you like it, enjoy!

httyd characters reacting on you having a cannibalistic dragon

ft. hiccup, eret, tuffnut, snotlout, grimmel, astrid, ruffnut, valka,

༺☆༻

⤷  Hiccup

-Hiccup would find it so cool but dangerous at the same time. He'd be really proud of you and he'll brag about it to others, saying something like "yeah heh my love actually has a cannibalistic dragon Deathgripper (od other dragon you like), she tamed him, cool hm?"

He'd ask a lot of question and will definitely write them into his notebook. He'd wanna know everything that's possible, most of all he'd want to know how you managed to tame it. He would touch it only if you are near so he's 100% sure that your dragon won't accidently hurt him, because your dragon listens only to you.

⤷  Eret

-Eret would be really surprise and he wouldn't trust your dragon that much. I mean he still has some hunter reflexes so even know when he doesn't hunt them anymore, he's still focused and careful around them, just in case after all they're just animals..

After some time he will get used to it, he would want to hear what your dragon can actually do, how to met it, tame it, all these stuff... maybe he would be interested more in some cool stories/memories of yours with your dragon like hunting with it. He'd also be really proud of you, telling others how cool his girlfriend is.

⤷  Tuffnut

-Tuff would find it epic and awesome and so cool! Like you managed to tame a cannibalistic dragon and now you are dating him?! He'd brag about you to his twin sister or Snotlout all the time, just to make them jealous.

He'd ask a lot of questions like if your dragon ever eat other dragon in front of you, if it does it often etc... but he'd never go and pet your dragon, never! When is Ruff being a little more annoying then usual, he'll tell her something like "you know what, i will tell y/n to come over with y/d/n (your dragons name), i bet it's hungry!" and this will shut her up most of the time.

⤷  Snotlout

-Snoutlout would brag about it the most, like really! Mostly to Hiccup or Fishlegs telling them how you're cooler then them and much tougher and badass. From the start he'll be confident saying stuff like he can tame dragon like this, that he himself has a pretty dangerous dragon, but soon as he hears your dragons roar, he's gone.

At night, when no ones listening, he whispers into your ear that he's proud of you and that you are strong and all these stuff just because you managed to tame your "special" dragon.

⤷  Grimmel

-Well Grimmel has himself cannibalistic dragons but he still holds big respect for you, because he control his dragons with venom, you somehow managed to tame it with your bare hands! He was thinking about it whole night when you first told him.

I believe he'd be more careful around your dragon because he can't control him, it's "wild" animal yk, so he's more careful because he knows what they can do.

⤷  Astrid

-Astrid would have a huge respect for you, because of that. She'd also ask a lot of questions and she would want to introduce your dragon to hers because Stormfly has her venomous thorns so Astrid thinks it will be alright.

She will often stare at you from a certain distance when you interact with your dragon, she admires you. She always say that you and your dragon are like beauty and the beast. Deep inside she thinks that you are much better then her, much stronger and cooler, but she'd never say that.

⤷  Ruffnut

-Ruff's reaction would be pretty similar to her twin brother's. She'd ask a lot of questions and be really really curious, with confidence until she sees your dragon, then all of the sudden she's hugging you from behind.

She admires you a lot, she finds you really really strong and badass because of it. And when she cannot sleep or when she's bored she will ask you to tell her the story how you tamed your dragon over and over again until she falls asleep, it's so cool that it's like a fairy tail to her, almost unreal.

⤷  Valka

-Valka lived with dragons most of her life so she knows everything but when you told her that you have a cannibalistic dragon (probably deathgripper) she was surprised and curious.

She'd want to meet him and try to "tame" it again, she knows dragon body language so if she notice that she's making your dragon uncomfortable, she'll stop. But be prepared for tons of questions even more then Hiccup would ask. She's really proud of you and really glad that she has such a strong partner.

[shaunamilfman]

Me when I see your domestic Shauna hcs and immediately decide I need a Nat version so this is my formal request for some

If you want to ofc no pressure I just love your writing

-📝

Domestic Nat Headcanons

pairing: Nat Scatorccio x Reader note: no crash au. nat in her 20's. idk why i answered this so quick tbh

in my mind, Nat's a bartender. maybe opens her own bar one day in the future so she can get away with giving a few free drinks to people that aren't assholes. she charges the assholes double, of course. 

sleeps till like 2 every day and has black-out curtains over every window in her apartment. if you like natural sunlight, your ass is going to have to go outside. 

if you're asleep by the time she gets home, your ass will be waking up. she never does it on purpose, she just has no idea how loud she really is. humming quietly in the shower after work and not even thinking about the fact that the wall would amplify it. you don't have the heart to tell her to stop. 

on the flip side, she never really gets that annoyed if you wake her up while she's asleep. just rolls her eyes as you get up, and pretends not to be pleased when you kiss her forehead. immediately rolls back over and falls right back asleep. it's almost impressive how quick she is. 

blasts music while she's getting ready, or doing just about anything that allows her too. you're always coming home to her gaming and blasting music on her days off. 

night owl even on her days off, always has been. it's a rare sight to see her up before noon, and it's only if you or one of her friends specifically asked her. leaving the house with her sunglasses on and almost hissing at the sun. 

Nat can't cook for shit except for a few staple foods that she'd eat every meal if you'd let her. she's not necessarily bad at it, she just doesn't really have the patience for it. 

her space constantly looks like a hurricane came through it, but she always miraculously knows where everything is. if you try to organize it for her, she'll be so lost. messes it back up the second your back is turned. 

You constantly catch her in the middle of the night making the weirdest snack combination known to man. If the sight of her eating it doesn't make you want to gag, then she's not doing it right. 

has a half feral cat with some mean ass name like ‘bastard’ or some shit that she leaves food out for. she saved his life when he got stuck and almost starved, and got permanent scars as a thank you. the cat comes and goes as he please, and neither of you are sure how he's getting in or out. 

she always pretends the scars were from something much cooler whenever somebody asks. it's a different story every time. you think she must have a list somewhere she adds to when she gets bored. they're starting to get really creative. 

you witness the cat getting into a nasty street fight with another cat and Nat's just like “hell yeah, go bastard!”

the first time you visited Nat's apartment, the only furniture she had in the living room was a beanbag chair and a TV setup propped up on a box. gallantly offers you the bean bag chair as she eats on the floor cross-legged next to you. 

she insists that she was always going to get more furniture and that it was just temporary, but you're not so sure. the first thing she buys is this beat to shit couch that's somehow the most comfortable thing you've ever sat on. she's so proud of it. 

if you didn't force her to get more, Nat would only own one fork, one spoon, one plate, etc. insists that she can just watch them.

likes going out with your or her friends, but isn't as much of a fan of hosting the events. makes it harder to just leave when she starts getting tired of them. always tried to make you be the bad guy whenever she wants to go. “sorry guys, she's tired.” meanwhile you're wide awake. 

Nat's really good at fixing things, mostly out of necessity. still, if something’s busted, there's a good chance Nat's already on her way to the hardware store to get parts before you've even noticed. she really enjoys the process of fixing shit and ends up getting really into cars because of it. if it wasn't for the hours, she'd consider being a mechanic. 

absolute coffee fiend. you rarely see her without a cup. only drinks it black and will turn her nose up at the sugary stuff. she's not pretentious about it though, it's just how she likes it. 

Nat randomly comes home with little gifts for you, tossing it at you without really acknowledging it. if you press her on it she'll say some shit like “saw it and thought of you.” 

she's not a big fan of surprises. she has a bit of a routine and whenever there's a major interruption to it she gets a little antsy. with the way Nat grew up ,she really appreciates knowing just about how her days going to go before she starts it. 

Nat really enjoys watching movies with you. it doesn't really matter what it is as long as she can just turn her brain off and watch. she likes physical contact, but isn't super big on cuddling per se. the type to lift your legs up into her lap when you're laying across the couch.

[lovebugism]

If you’re taking requests could I ask for one from the fall prompts with Steve and punchy?

“When she wears YOUR flannel shirt”

ty for requesting! steve x punchy nation rise! — you spend an autumn morning with steve which results in misplaced jealousy and spilled coffee (established relationship, fluff, v v brief miscommunication, 1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve, still wearing last night’s pajamas, stands barefoot on the patio and basks in the early morning orange. 

Fall seemed to arrive in Hawkins overnight. It’s cooler than usual outside, and everything is weirdly more yellow. Every tree has seemingly shed its leaves, too, and somehow ended up right in his pool. He uses the net to fish the dying things from the rippling blue.

You watch him from the doorway. His golden arms tense with every scoop, and his sleep shirt is so tight you can see the muscles in his back flexing, too. Your bare legs are cold and prickly with it, but the sight of him makes you feel all warm — like the mug of hot coffee burning your palm.

“You have to stop being so productive so early in the morning,” you chastise, voice still heavy with sleep. “It’s getting weird.”

“It’s gotta get done, babe,” Steve retorts with a soft laugh, his back still facing you.

You take it as an opportunity to press yourself against him. You wrap your free hand around his waist and spread your palm along the faint pudge of his covered tummy. Your cheek melts between his shoulder blades as you mumble, “Not while normal people are still sleeping. Think about it— we could be spooning right now and not freezing our asses off—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve interjects with a boyish vibrato. Still gripping the metal handle of the pool skimmer, he turns around to face you. His honey eyes are wide as they dart up and down your form. “No way you’re wearing Eddie’s shirt right now.”

Your brows pinch together just like his bushy ones. You look down at yourself, at the deep green and navy blue flannel swallowing you whole, then back at him. “No?” you answer, though it comes out as more of a question. “This is your shirt.”

Steve shakes his head, puts a hand on his hip, and clicks his lips against his teeth. 

“No… I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing it the other day— he said he was gonna cut the sleeves off and wear it over his jacket like a freak.”

“And I told him he couldn’t, remember?” you lilt with raised brows. “‘Cause he stole it from me after I stole it from you.”

Steve winces when you shove your pointer finger into his chest.

“So, it’s mine?” he questions, confused all over again.

You nod all slow. “Yeah.”

“Oh…” he hums, less jealous and more content than he was a moment ago. 

His chest starts to warm now that he can see you more clearly, without the haze of misplaced envy clouding his vision. 

Your hair’s a mess, and you’re still in yesterday’s makeup, and your legs are unshaven. The buttons on the flannel don’t quite line up, either, and the lapel droops off one shoulder to reveal the lovebite he left on your collarbone the night before.

If home was a place, he’s pretty sure it’d look an awful lot like you.

“…Oh,” he repeats, with a more profound inflection this time. ‘Cause he’s a boy, and you’re wearing his shirt, and it’s doing irreversible damage to his brain.

“I just got, like, ten times hotter, huh?” you tease with a knowing squint.

“Try a thousand,” Steve scoffs with a pink grin.

“A million?”

“A billion,” he argues, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders to pull you into him again. His other stays firmly gripping the pool net because he’s not diving in to rescue this thing if it sinks. “A kajillion, even,” he jokes with sparkling eyes that dance between both of yours.

You laugh before you mean to. “Wow. That’s a real big number, Harrington. Sure you know what it means?”

“If it means I wanna kiss the life outta you, then, yeah,” he murmurs lowly, already leaning in to kiss your smile.

You taste like coffee, where he tastes like minty mouthwash. It’s an unearthly concoction that feels like heaven on your tongue. 

It’s perhaps too early to be kissed so ardently, with your head tilted back against the crook of Steve’s elbow while he steals the breath from your lungs. You get so effortlessly drunk on him — quickly forgetting the crisp cold and the fresh coffee in your hand.

Steve hisses when he pulls back from you, features contorted in discomfort. “Hot coffee,” he winces through gritted teeth. “Hot coffee on my foot.”

Only then do you recognize your limp hand and the subtle splashing of your drink against the patio.

“Oh, shit!” you blurt into the quiet, early morning. “Fuck, Steve— I’m sorry!”

He shakes his head and swipes a hand through his hair. He scrunches his nose and tries to smile. “It’s okay. Didn’t even hurt.”

Your eyes flit down to his splotchy red foot, then back at him. You look more pained by it than he does. “Yes, it did!” you agonize, wrapping your arms around his waist and smushing your cheek into his chest. 

Thankfully, there’s not much coffee left in the mug to spill this time. 

“I’m sorry, Stevie,” you mumble into his t-shirt. “Fuck, I wish I wasn’t so clumsy all the time— it’s annoying.”

Steve laughs into your hair and abandons the pool skimmer to wrap both arms around you. One hand squeezes your shoulder while the other smooths up and down your back. “I don’t think so. I think it’s sweet.”

“…Even when I give you third-degree burns from my coffee?”

He exhales a faint chuckle. “Yeah, even when you give me third-degree burns from your coffee.”

Your cheek rubs against the soft cotton of his t-shirt when you turn to look up at him. Your chin tilts against his chest and bobs as you ask him, “Do you still wanna kiss me?”

A crooked smile tugs slow at his pink mouth. His honey eyes twinkle when they look down at you. He quickly forgets the tingling pain fading at the top of his foot because you’re so damn pretty wrapped up in his arms.

“I’d kiss you forever, baby,” he murmurs so fondly it makes your stomach whirl. “You know that.”