#i just got off my period the other day too it was particularly bad

[coochiekrab]

My period is killing me and the only thing that’ll save me is a cis guy being telepathically sent all my pain (Can we pretty please get Aubrey dying from period cramps)

Do you feel better yet anon

[strang3lov3]

strang3lov3’s masterlist

I do not give consent for anyone to copy, plagiarize, translate, post my work elsewhere, or put my work into AI chat bots.

all fics are f!reader and I’m a sucker for cream pies. Just pretend Joel’s shooting blanks.

Updated 1/6/2025

Joel Miller

One shots

Lookalike - Joel finds your dirty mag and makes you get off in front of him.

Everyday I’m Shufflin’ - Joel is horrified to find out that you cannot shuffle a deck of cards, so he teaches you in a rather unorthodox way.

Cream (horny husband!joel x reader) Joel is insatiable. He convinces you to get it on at his aunt's house on Thanksgiving. He's also got a lot of dirty Thanksgiving jokes he thought of last year that he's been saving to annoy you.

Fighting Fair - Joel doesn’t know what or who started this fucking thing, but he’s finishing it. Tonight.

Love Spell - (Sex pollen) After eating some mysterious berries, you and Joel spend a very memorable and unexpected Valentine’s Day together

Enjoy the Silence - You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position.

Chevelle - (virginity loss) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money.

Play Stupid Games - who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples?

Dirty Laundry - Joel's best kept secret is the washer and dryer he's not supposed to have. Your best kept secret is that you've been using that washer to get yourself off.

Click Here - You and Joel both know how he got that virus on his computer, and you can’t help but to relentlessly tease him in more ways than one���until Joel’s had enough.

Bite Me - You learn two things on a particularly boring patrol shift - Joel loves to bite and you love to be bitten.

Seeing Red - Joel’s sorry that your period sucks, but he's reached the end of his rope with your attitude.

On Display - You crave more than just Joel’s eyes on you, so he gives you an audience.

Safety First - While camping, Joel insists on thoroughly checking you for ticks. Safety first, after all.

Catnap - Joel interrupts your nap on his thighs.

Dinner and a Show - A corrupt FEDRA soldier catches you and Joel sneaking back into the QZ. He’ll look the other way, but you’re gonna make it worth his while.

Bad Habit - Joel helps you to quit smoking.

Bedridden - you knock Joel out with a blowjob to put him to sleep when he’s sick.

Scrub Daddy - QZ Joel visits you for a bath and a little extra.

Jingled Balls - What has four paws and ruins not only Joel’s Christmas, but his orgasm, too?

Series

Dark Daddy!Joel - one shots and a series involving Joel as your father figure who also fucks.

Comfort Zone - sleazy adult store owner!joel au/series Upcoming at some point. I had momentum and then got distracted so it’s on pause.

Lather (abandoned) When Joel injures his shoulder, he needs your help washing his hair and getting off 🚿🧼💦 part one, part two

Mall Rats(complete) Joel keeps track of you as you search your way through an abandoned mall. You don’t make his job easy. First stop is Victoria’s Secret. Masterlist

Can’t find something? Check my old fics.

-

Ezra (Prospect)

One Shots

Lavender - Ezra gives you a pleasurable massage.

Rescue Mission - Cock pronouns. Uncle Ezra. Old man dick.

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Frankie Morales

One shots

The Real Deal - Frankie demonstrates why exactly he’s less than impressed by your rose toy.

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Roman Roy

Because my Roman audience is so small, I have a taglist for him. If you leave me a kind/excited comment/rb/ask about my Roman writing I tag you on the next fic 🩷 you’re also welcome to send me a message/ask to join or leave it.

One shots

Invisible Line- boundary after boundary is crossed when your boss is left with no choice but to share his bed with you.

Raise - Roman will increase your raise substantially, so long as you don't lose his game.

Indecent - Roman manspreads in the hot tub.

Dinner and a Show - Roman, a corrupt FEDRA soldier catches you and Joel sneaking back into the QZ. He’ll look the other way, but you’re gonna make it worth his while.

Dark But Just A Game - you and Roman play tag.

Tear You Apart - Roman hatefucks you.

My Treat - Roman gives you a special present for your birthday whether you want it or not.

Underfoot - you get off on Roman’s shoe.

The First Taste - Roman puts just the tip in (it’s more than just the tip)

Series

Stepdaddy!Roman -(incomplete) You have a weird thing with your stepfather.

Gyno!Roman - mini series coming soon Stalker!Roman coming at some point

Jack Delroy

One Shots

Downpour Jack gives you a ride home, pulls over during a storm, and fucks you in his car.

[thecuriousbeauty]

You're on your period- Harry Styles Blurb

Word count: 1178

Synopsis: Periods really suck. But not so much when you have a sweet boyfriend to take care of you. (FLUFF!)

You felt like you were going to cry as you opened the freezer and saw that you were out of ice cream. You were looking forward to binge eating that ice cream and watching your favorite show when you get back from work. You had a particularly long day, or maybe you just felt like that because of the piercing pain from your period cramps and your hormones being all over the place. 

You shut the door of the freezer with a sigh, dragging yourself to bed. You curled up, clutching your stomach as another bad wave of pain hits you. You forgot to take some pain meds when you were downstairs, and you were just too tired so you just layed there.Your boyfriend, who you now remember, had helped you finish the last of the ice cream when you had a movie night last week wasn’t home yet, so you phoned him.

“Hey baby! You back home?”, Harry answers and you pout, just wanting to crawl into his arms. “Harry..”

“What’s wrong, darling? Are you okay?” He doesn’t like it when your voice isn’t sounding peppy.

“Nooo..”, you draw out, making Harry frown  as he gets in his car, being done with the studio for the day. “Why is that, baby? Anything I can help with?”

“We ran out of ice cream..can you get some for me please?”, you ask softly, making Harry’s heart melt. He loved when you asked him to get things for you, even if it was something small. 

“Of course, love. You aren’t feeling too good, are you?”, he coos, joining the dots as he remembers the date. He keeps track of your periods too. 

“Nuh uh. I’m having a war with my uterus right now.”, you tell him, making him chuckle softly. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. Anything else you need, baby? Stocked up for the week?”

You really have the sweetest boyfriend. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need you.”

“Aw, I’ll be home soon, my love. You get some rest, yeah?”

You hummed, closing your eyes already. “Love you.”

“I love you too. Oh, what flavor did you want?”

“Flavor?”, you smirk, and Harry laughs. “The ice cream flavor, silly.”

___________________________________

Harry didn’t just buy you ice cream. He got you your favorite packet of chips, some chocolate and some other snacks you liked. He kept it all in the kitchen and went upstairs to find you. You had dozed off while waiting for him, and he smiled as he took you in, walking to you quietly. He leaned down, gently brushing his fingers across your forehead, brushing away strands of your hair that fell onto your face. 

He thought not to wake you up and just slide into bed so he could give you a cuddle, but he spotted a stain on your shorts that would leak into the sheets soon. He didn’t mind, but he knew you would, so he gently kisses you awake with some kisses. 

You wake up to his feather soft kisses on your skin, a contrast to your aching stomach. You open your eyes and Harry gives you a smile. “How’re you doing, love?”

“Not good, it hurts.”, you mumble, sighing as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Oh, baby. You wanna take a warm shower, maybe? You’ve uh, got a bit of blood on your shorts.”

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked down to your shorts and around the bed. “Shit..I’m sorry babe, I fell asleep and didn’t realize-”

“-Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”, he says, giving you his hand to help you out of bed. Thankfully, the blood hadn’t seeped into your sheets yet. “See, the sheets are fine. If it wasn’t, I’d change them, nothing to be sorry about.”, Harry tells you, and you smile softly, leaning to his side carefully, giving him a side hug. 

“I’ve got you some snacks too. After you’re feeling all fresh, we can cuddle up on the couch with a movie, hm?”

You nod, pressing your lips to his, giving him a kiss. “That sounds good.”

Harry lets you take care of your business and shower. He also got changed and set up all the food with a movie, bringing your fuzzy blanket to the couch. He got your heating pad and your pain meds ready as well.

You slouched over downstairs in one of Harry’s shirts and another pair of your shorts, making him smile at how cute you looked. Your hair was up in a messy bun, and you had no makeup on your face, but to him, you were gorgeous.

He opens his arms, and you fall into them, crawling onto his lap. “How was your day?”

“Good, good. Got some recording done, but I’ll probably do the same part again tomorrow. I missed you.”, he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, holding you close to him with arm as he leans over to grab the pain meds. “Here, take these, love.”

You swallowed them down with the water he gave you and rested your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warmth. 

While you tell him about your day, he slides the heating pad under your shirt to keep it over your tummy, before adjusting you on his lap and bringing the fuzzy blanket around you. One of his hands slips inside to rub your lower back in firm circles, with just the right amount of pressure, making you feel relaxed. When you told him about your ice cream craving, he immediately grabbed the tub and gave you the spoon so you can start digging in. 

“Thanks for all this, you’re the best.” You kiss him. 

“Only the best for you.”, he says, smiling as he watches you scoop some of the ice cream into your mouth and hum as the cold desert with the luscious chocolate hits just the right spots. “That good, huh?” Harry laughs.

“Yes! Here, I’m willing to share.”, You fed him some too. “Mm, that’s good.”, he agrees. You watch the movie for some time.

“Is the pain going away?”, he asks, pressing kisses to your hair and you smile, kissing his jaw. One of his hands still stayed on your back, and the other was playing with your hair. “Mhmm. You make it better.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Hate to see my baby in pain.” You blush, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. “I really like you, you know?”

He scoffs out a laugh, pinching your cheek. “You really like me? Give that ice cream back.” He moves his hand to your side, his fingertips dancing over your skin as he looks at with a glint in his eyes. He adores you. 

You giggle, going to grab his hand as it threatens to tickle you. “Correction! I really love you.”

“Hm, you better.” Harry nudges his nose against your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You laugh, and he takes your chin, giving you a kiss. “Cause I really love you too.”

_______________________________________________

Taglist:-- @livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777 (Lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

2012 tmnt boys with a reader that’s having a rough period week? Like normally it’s bearable but this week it’s just, struggling to walk, feeling dizzy and sick, not really eating and just laying in bed?

Hope you’re having a lovely timezone! Take care of yourself :]

Rough Period (Fluff)

2012!Turtles x reader

A/N: I just started my own really bad period, so this just seemed very fitting to get done😂 Hope you’ll enjoy💚

Warning: Periods so bad that you will puke, cry and maybe even pass out.

Leonardo:

Since this isn’t the first time you’re having your period around Leo, he isn’t too alarmed about it. At this point he even seemed to know your cycle (probably also because he was able to smell it on you, but he would never tell you that), and had pads and tampons in his room, just in case you needed any.

But this time Leo could tell that it was bad before you even got out of bed. You were in an incredibly bad mood, struggling to even sit up or move, and even tried to push him away when he tried to cuddle you, only for you to break down crying due to the pain.

Leo would not take any words or action of yours personally. He knew it was just your hormones and the stabbing pain that was speaking. So he kept his distance without ever going too far, patiently taking every single que, look and noise you gave him. He got you painkillers without you even asking for it, and would lay next to you, just in case you would need to be hugged at any point.

At some point you would finally crawl into Leo’s arms, before finally falling asleep with your head against his chest.

Raphael:

Have you ever seen the couples that mockingly will yell at each other, acting like they are fighting, but just smile and laugh while saying things that an outside person might totally misunderstand? Yeah, that’s you and Raph when you’re on your period, laying angrily in bed, feeling tired of the whole world. But somehow, you and Raph’s small back and forths always seemed to get a smile on your lips.

And somehow, when you’re having a particularly bad period, leaving you unmoving in bed, unable to eat anything, feeling like throwing up, Raph still had a way to put a small smile on your lips. He would bring you something to drink along with some snacks, hoping to get something inside of you, before taking a seat next to you, coming with a sarcastic yet somehow funny; “have I ever told you how beautiful you look when you’re on the verge of dying?” That made you snort.

But when your cramps would get particularly bad, Raph would drop any funny acts, in order to solely focus on how to help you. Water? Bucket? Heating pad? Blanket? Sweatshirt off? More snacks? Raph got it all, and he somehow always seemed to be able to know what to do, without asking you what you needed.

Donatello:

Knowing as much about human anatomy as Donnie did, he never got particularly worried when you were on your period. That did not mean that he didn’t feel bad for you. With every cramp and every small pained whimper, Donnie felt his heart crack a little for you, as he tried to find a way to make the pain less for you. But so far nothing had been working, but Donnie never wanted to turn you into a guinea pig, to test something that may not work. No, instead he would stay by your side, holding you close and keeping you company as you got through it.

But one particular day, your period was way worse than usual. You were sick, throwing up, with cramps so bad that you were left crying on the bed. That really broke Donnie’s heart.

That day Donnie did not step a foot in the lab, but stayed with you, not leaving your side unless absolutely necessary. He even went so far as to check your vitals, just to make sure. He tried not to fuss, even though it was hard. He just wanted to make sure that you were alright, though it could take several days.

To be honest, this was probably the hardest thing Donnie had to go through in your relationship. And when it was over, Donnie was just happy to know that you were okay.

Michelangelo:

Whenever you had your period, Mikey always had a little moment of panic. He HATED seeing you in pain, and whenever you would curl up in bed with cramps, Mikey was about to cry and scream in fear, thinking that he was about to lose you. Bit of a drama queen really. Sometimes you had to give him a hard knock, and remind him what was going on.

But then one day, you had a really bad period. So bad that you almost couldn’t speak. And that made Mikey very worried, fussing around you with words of fear. But when you tried to stand up, only to fall back on the bed, the world spinning around you, Mikey went into total panic, running laps around the room before running for Donnie.

While Donnie did a check on you, Mikey stood over his shoulder, staring like you were in your dead bed with just moments left. He almost broke down crying, until Donnie turned and told him to tone it down. “She’s just on her period, your nob. I’ll get her some pain killers. Get her something to drink and some comfort food. There isn’t much else than to make her comfortable”.

In the end, it was more like you were the one making Mikey comfortable, reminding him that even though you were hurting for the moment, it would be over a few days later.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

The Art of Persistence

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After a long day, you return home to the comfort of your two favorite boys.

warnings: swearing, brief misogyny, Frank being adorable

a/n: For the lovely @zomtart who wanted to see something with Frank and a dog! As always, reblogs and comments fuel my writing!

w/c: 2.1k

“The art of love is largely the art of persistence.” Albert Ellis

Walking through the doors into the bakery, your heart sank. It was going to be a long day, you could smell it on the air. The humidity seeping through the cracks in the doors had made the atmosphere purgatorial. You could feel the heat clouding around you, the air laden with moisture only made stickier by the ovens inside. Blowing a frustrated breath out of your nose, you gave a pleasant nod to your manager as she slunk past you towards her office.

“Good morning to you too,” You muttered, stalking into the back to set down your bag.

You were rapidly approaching your breaking point. Each inhale flooded your senses with the aroma of toasted sesame and melted butter--the combination turning sour after a week of beligerent customers and stressful shifts. If you didn't need the money, you'd have called out. Unfortunately, those precious wages and tips were keeping you afloat right now.

Tossing a thin canvas string over your neck, you secured the flashy red apron around your waist with a tight knot, not minding the line of pain that encircled you as you yanked at the ends. Pinning your worn name tag to your chest, you spun on your heel and headed for the counter.

Today was a new day. It would be busy, Mondays always were, but that didn't mean it would be bad. Right..?

Lamentably, by the time the morning rush had ended and you were finally able to slip into the break room for a moment away from the chaos, you were confident today would be the same as every other day. In a period of three hours, it had all gone to shit. Two of your coworkers had called out, throwing you and the one other reliable employee to the wolves. One particularly aggressive customer had thrown a cup of scalding coffee at you—claiming it was burnt after the tiniest sip you’d ever seen. And, the cherry on top of the crappy day you were having, you'd burnt the shit out of your hand pulling a bagel out of the toaster for a family that wouldn't stop nagging you. Fuck your well-being, they had places to go.

The circulation to your legs was slowly being cut off by the tourniquet you'd accidentally tied your waist in, but you couldn't be bothered to fix it. Staring wearily at your bandaged hand your body trembled with fatigue, discomfort, and residual adrenaline. Pulling out your phone, you positioned it in your good hand, selecting the proper contact and crossing your fingers.

Please pick up, please pick up, please—

“Hey doll, did you need somethin'?” Frank's gruff voice crackled over the line, relief crashing over you as it did. Your body sagged at the question, the idea that you weren't handling it all alone.

“Um, yah, I was wondering if you could take Wes out for me? A handful of people didn't come in so I'm stuck working a shift and a half.” You nibbled at the skin on your bottom lip, hoping Frank wouldn't be annoyed that you asked him to care for your dog again this week.

You'd gotten Wesley as a puppy about a year ago, after a friend found him and his siblings abandoned in a nearby park. He was the last to be adopted, but you just couldn't deny his sweet little face. Unsurprisingly, the pair of you got along swimmingly.

The only problem arose at times like these, when your manager demanded that you stay past your scheduled end time to fulfill someone else's obligations. Wes was a good boy, but he could only hold out for so long without needing to pee or expend some energy. When you weren't there to play fetch or run around the block, you often turned to your partner for help.

You knew Frank adored your rambunctious pup, but the thought of adding more to his plate for any reason always made you guilty. He was busy, he had his own life and job and shit to do. Wes was your responsibility. Frank hadn't signed up for this, nor was he being compensated for his time. You really needed to hire a dog walker or something, that just wasn't an option given your slim budget right now.

“Not a problem, sweetheart. I’ll head to your place when I can. You know when you'll be home?” As always, Frank accepted the burden immediately, without so much as an irritated sigh. His readiness to care for you and your four-legged roommate never failed to sweep you off your feet.

“Around 6, if I'm lucky. I know that's late—” You rubbed at the back of your neck, grimacing as your fingers were met with warm, clammy skin.

“Don't worry about that, doll, you ain't the reason for that.” Frank reasoned, his patience only fueling the flames of guilt swirling around you.

“I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who could be at fault.” You laughed bitterly, swallowing the despair coating your tongue.

“No, you aren't.” Frank protested firmly. “Ain't your fault your boss wants you to stay, babydoll. You're just doin' whatcha can to stay employed. No shame in that.”

Your eyes fell closed as you let out a breath you hadn't meant to hold. Frank's response was tender, effortlessly caring, as if he was there rubbing your back and calming you down. Soothing your doubts with every syllable. He understood the pressure you were under and he never blamed you for it.

“Thank you.” You whispered, the longing you felt to be with him only intensifying as he comforted you from a distance.

“No need to thank me, honey. Just get home safe, yah?” The concerned edge that perpetually lined Frank's words tipped the corners of your lips into a smile.

“Ok.” You promised, bidding him goodbye.

The rest of your day slogged along like a fish attempting to swim through jello. Slow, awkward, and unbelievably messy. Each interaction corroded your dwindling social battery, wearing your patience thin. It took every fiber of your being to not scream right back at the customers as they demanded ridiculous things from you.

Oh your espresso isn’t coming fast enough? Why don’t you come around the counter and make it your damn self. 

Rolling your eyes at the annoyed tone of the customer begging for the drink, you pretended not to hear him as you steamed milk for another order. 

“Geez bitch, are you deaf?” 

You barely registered his muttered comment, but it struck you like a blade anyway. Fist clenching around his cup, your fingernails punctured the cheap, waxy paper, splattering the freshly brewed espresso over your work station. 

“Oh no!! I’m so sorry sir, I’ll make you a new one.” Shooting the fuming man your best try at an innocent, I’m-simply-so-ditsy smile, you tossed the ruined cup into a nearby trash can gracefully. With growing satisfaction, you took your sweet time restarting the beverage, hoping the asshole would burn his tongue the second you handed it over. 

Shoving the tiny cup across the counter, you cemented your beaming smile in place as the dude snatched it from your grip without a word. 

“You’re welcome, asshole.” You muttered as he slammed the door on his way out. A glance to the clock quickly lifted your spirits. 

Ten minutes. Ten minutes and the shift from hell would be over. You’d collect your tips and bolt before your supervisor asked for something else. 

Behind you, your next problem cleared their throat. Whipping around to face the uptight, blazer-clad woman, you raised an eyebrow. “What can I do for you?” 

Fumbling with the keys on your ring, your fingers hadn’t even lined the correct one up with the lock when the bolt thunked, the door sliding open. Standing on the other side of the frame, taking up most of your frame of vision with his broad stature, was Frank.

Tumbling into him, you groaned happily as his giant arms engulfed you, his stomach shaking with a brief laugh.

“Missed you too, sweetheart. We both did.” Pulling back slightly, Frank jerked his head to the wiggling golden retriever who was barely containing his excitement a few paces away.

Squeezing through the door past your hulking boyfriend, you knelt before your ecstatic canine, opening your arms for him to clamber into. Hugging your dog as he wriggled and chirped happily wasn't easy, but it made your heart swell with adoration every time you tried.

The way your dog reacted when you came home from work was nothing less than an ego boost. Poor Wes could never seem to keep still, too overwhelmed with joy and love that his tail swished wildly, shaking his whole body. Once you were within kissing distance, Wesley was determined to slobber all over you, reminding you just how much he'd missed you while you were away. These moments made all the hardship worth it.

Crouching behind you, Frank's hand slid beneath your raised elbow to scratch at Wesley's back, crowding in until you were fully leaning against him. You exhaled, sinking into his chest as he tugged you impossibly closer. Trailing kisses down the side of your face towards your shoulder, Frank rumbled with a chuckle as your dog plopped over the pile of legs, rolling belly up with an open-mouthed smile.

“Try as I might, I don't think I'll ever be the favorite.” Frank remarked, giving Wes a firm rub on his stomach.

“Well, I do feed him.” You snorted, scratching at your dog's ear. “Seems to be the key to both of your hearts.”

“Got that right,” Frank agreed, squeezing you tightly until you giggled. “Did your shift go ok?”

Puffing out a breath, you shrugged, turning your head so he could see your face. “Only got called a bitch once so, I'd say that's a win.”

Scoffing indignantly, Frank scowled. “Gimme a name, sweetheart.”

“Frank,” You groaned, not unhappily. “If I let the Punisher loose on every asshole that came through the shop, we'd have a massacre on your hands.”

“I'd do it anyway. They deserve it, treatin' service workers like that.” Frank grumbled, nuzzling your cheek.

Your hand slid up to the base of his scalp, twisting the edges of his hair in your fingers. “I appreciate it, handsome. But I'm ok, promise.”

“Did ya make good tips at least?” His question was genuine, his expression almost hopeful, but you barked a laugh anyways.

“Take a guess.” Your voice was bitter, thinking of all the ungrateful patrons you'd had in the last twelve hours.

“Hmm,” Frank pondered. “Twenty?”

“Fuck Frankie, I wish.” You rolled your eyes. “Two bucks.”

“You're shittin' me.”

“Unfortunately, my dear, I am telling the god's honest truth.” You laughed humorlessly.

“Two bucks. Fuckin' hell.” Frank scrubbed a hand over his face, clenching his jaw as his anger roiled deep within. “I'm so sorry, doll.”

“Me too, Frankie.” You pouted, feelings of inadequacy mingling with the fear of being utterly stuck in this dead-end job. “I hate asking you to help with Wes every damn day. You deserve better.”

“Hey now, don't you go worryin your pretty little head about me,” Frank scolded gently. “You're the one who don't deserve to be treated this way.”

“Don't have much of a choice, do I?” You wondered aloud, shoulders curling in as you descended back into hopelessness. “I need this job.”

“Then you'll stick with it for now,” Frank proposed. “And I'll help ya find somethin' better in the meantime.”

“You don't have to do that Frank,” You objected, letting him slip out from under you and offer you a hand up.

“I know I don't have to, darlin'. I want to.” Kissing your lips tenderly, Frank cupped your cheek as heat rushed to your face.

“Thank you.” You murmured, chest tightening with emotion.

“Anytime, gorgeous.” Frank winked at you, bringing a smile back to your face.

A piercing squeak caught your attention, drawing it towards the floor where an impatient Wesley displayed a plush toy you didn't recognize.

“Did you buy him a toy?” You asked Frank, knowing grin creeping over your face as the man blushed bright pink, shrugging one shoulder. Bending down, you tugged at the arm of the wooly sheep, pretending that you were grabbing it for yourself until Wesley ran off, squeaking it victoriously.

“Needed somethin' to do and he seemed bored, so we took a walk to the pet store on 45th.” The embarrassed man mumbled, rubbing at his nape and averting his gaze.

“Aw, Frankie,” Winding your arms back around Frank's tree trunk waist, you peppered kisses across his face. ”That's so sweet of you.“

“It's nothin', really,” Frank stated matter-of-factly.

“Sure, tough guy. It's nothin',” You smirked, clenching your arms one final time before gripping his hand. “Come sit, we can order dinner and play with Wes.”

Planting a firm kiss against your hairline, your scalp tickled as Frank smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @pone21 @ignore-mp3 @screechingphantommaker @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @vsplanet @pigeonmama

[gottaluvharry]

Break Down

Charles Leclerc x Female Reader

Summary: You’re on your period and Charles makes you cry

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

Everything about today had sucked so far. You woke up on your period, Charles had to go to the factory so you had to go without seeing him, your cramps were amping up, you dropped your coffee and chattered your favorite mug, and now you forgot that you were supposed to make pasta for dinner so you didn’t have any of the ingredients at home and it was too late to go to the store. As Charles walked in the door, you heard the sound of his keys being set down and his shoes coming off. You knew he was in a bad mood just because he’d didn’t call for you like he usually does the second he comes in the door. As he rounds the corner to the living room of your shared apartment he sees you laying on the couch under a blanket with your favorite show on the tv.

“Hi baby” you say, sitting up slightly. “Hi” he says shortly. “Did you make pasta yet” he asks, making your stomach drop. “No I forgot to go to the store to get the ingredients, I’m sorry I’ll make it tomorrow I promise”

Charles wasn’t mad at you, truly, he was just in a bad mood all together. He sighed loudly and rubbed his hand down his face and turned away from you, he knew he had to stop himself before he did something he would regret. You just felt so horrible and you were so emotional that you weren’t even surprised to feel the tears slip down your cheeks. The sound of you sniffling behind him caused him to turn back around, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying in front of him.

“Amour” he coos, getting down into he knees in front of you and running his hands your hair. “Why are you crying?” You look down at your hands, not being able to meet his eye. “I just feel bad b-because you were working all d-day and I should’ve at least made d-dinner for you and I h-hate disappointing you and I really hate it when you’re m-mad at me and I got my period a-and my cramps hurt and I just-“ your ramble was cut short by a particularly uncontrollable sob. You didn’t know what had come over you but the singular question he asked you caused a pandora’s box of emotions to bust open. “Oh baby, I am not mad at you or disappointed” he said as he pulled your head into his neck. “I am sorry I made it seem that way I am just tired” All you could do was nod your head in the crook of his neck, still crying and gripping his shirt with your fists. He pulls away from you and guides your head up to look at him “I love you, and I’m sorry you’re hurting” he says as he puts his hand over where you hurt, adding pressure to hopefully help relieve some of your pain. “Let’s just go get in bed, yeah?” You nod your head and let him carry you to your room, happy that your boyfriend is always there for you when you break down rather than running away.

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

This is so me, when I cry about one thing it almost always leads to me crying about a million other things:)

inbox is open!!

[powerfultenderness]

Wait how would neighbour könig react to a sick reader? Like they’ve holed themselves up in their apartment and are really unwell. I’m in my sickly Victorian child era and need comfort from this hunk of a man 💕

Exchange

Rated: Mature Word count: 2965 Notes: I flipped flop so much on what kind of sick, but settled on König taking care of you during your period because it allowed the exchange that takes place.

Eating dinner alone in the comfort of his own home had been something König used to look forward to. For one, the food was better than what was offered at the mess hall (not that it was particularly bad). There was also the quiet his home offered, no loud and rambunctious soldiers turning meal time into some form of entertainment or competition. As he rose in rank, he started working while eating, then when he finally got his own place, he discovered he didn’t have to. He could take the time to simply enjoy his meal. It was refreshing, to say the least, and turned into a routine. He liked routines…until he didn’t. Until you moved in next door.

Lately there had been a little dance between the two of you. Sometimes you’d invite him over for dinner, other times he’d invite you over. As much as he wanted to sit you down and insist on a set schedule (every day), he didn’t want to scare you away. The next best thing, he figured, was to bring you dinner himself, no excuses, just because he wanted to spend time with you.

He was confident when he knocked on your door. You had expressed interest in this restaurant before and now he was certain to win some favor by sharing his favorite foods with you. 

He was confident until you opened the door. 

“Hey, König.” You started, a quiet pained sigh following your greeting, “I’m not really up for hanging out tonight.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he took in your appearance.

You were wearing what he assumed was your pajamas, a t-shirt and a pair of black shorts that normally would have had him drooling over your exposed skin, but that he was too worried that you were hunching over slightly in obvious pain. 

You shook your head, “nothing. I’m just not feeling good.” 

“Let me help,” he lifted his hands, intending to herd you back inside and either to the couch or your room, but as he did so he brought the container of takeout closer to you. 

“Ugh, König!” You slapped a hand over your mouth and nose and quickly dashed to the kitchen, where you flung yourself over the sink and threw up. It wasn’t much, all liquid, bile and spit and what little water you had managed to get down. 

He cursed quietly and followed you, dropping the food on the counter before gently touching your back. At least he tried to, but you waved him off as you grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe your mouth, though you kept it pressed to your face as you spoke. “I’m just really sensitive to smell right now.” 

“Oh!” He realized that it was the take out that had caused you to suddenly throw up and apologized before darting out of your flat with the food. 

You were still in the kitchen when he came back, having dropped the food off at his place. “Darling, please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.” 

“Nothing.” You sighed as you tried to stand straight, though one of your hands remained pressed to your lower stomach.

“You just threw up on an empty stomach, I do not think that is nothing.” 

You scoffed quietly and resisted rolling your eyes. “It’s nothing. I just need to rest, so I’ll see you later, alright?” 

You tried to get him to leave, instead he moved even closer to you, setting his hands on your shoulders. 

“Please. Let me help.” 

You looked up at him, worry clear in his eyes despite the mask he still wore, and sighed as you broke eye contact by dropping your head onto his chest. He didn’t seem to mind and started to gently rub your shoulders. 

As you leaned against him, he started to worry even more. You felt so weak, trembling slightly in his arms, he had to resist the urge to scoop you up and take you back to his home, where he could properly take care of you. 

“It’s just my period, it’s bad the first day. Just let me go back to bed.” You mumbled and attempted to pull away from him, of course he didn’t let you.

“Okay.” He easily picked you up in a bridal carry, ignoring your squeaked protest, and walked you back into your room. 

He’d been in your room enough times to see how unusual it was currently. Your bed was a mess, blankets in a tangled bundle with your pillows strewn about, used tissues scattered on the bed and the floor. Your nightstand had a glass of water and some pill bottles on it, next to your laptop which was turned toward the bed with some movie on pause. 

He gently set you down on your bed and helped straighten out your blanket so you could get comfortable. You mumbled your thanks as you curled up on your side.

“Do you need anything?” 

You were about to tell him no when your knee hit the, now cold, heating pad under your blanket.

“Uh, actually, can you throw this in the microwave for ninety seconds?” 

He nodded with a soft “of course,” and gently took the heating pad from you. 

Once he was back and handed you the warm compress, he kneeled next to your bed. “Anything else? Something to eat? Fresh water?” 

You groaned and shook your head. You were so nauseous you could barely hold down enough water to swallow the pain medication, there was no way you were ready to eat yet. 

“Cuddles?” He asked as you were shaking your head.

You actually chuckled, his own smile softening his eyes.

“I like cuddling with you, König.” Though it didn’t happen as often as either of you would like. “But not now. I move too much and I don’t wanna bleed on you.” 

König pulled your blanket up to your shoulder, as it had fallen when you reached for the heating pad. “A little blood doesn’t scare me, darling.” 

You laughed again and scrunched up your face. “Gross.” 

“Oh,” you looked back up at him, “you really wanna do me a favor?” 

He nodded, almost too eager to finally do something to help you.

“Can you take me to work tomorrow? I hate driving like this.” 

“You’re going to work tomorrow?” He blinked rapidly, surprised to hear that you were considering this in the state that you were in.

“Yea,” you laughed again, “my period isn’t exactly a good excuse to miss work. Besides, I’ll feel better in a few hours.” 

König hummed like he wanted to disagree but nodded. “Alright.” 

“Thank you. I usually leave around seven.” 

Of course, he already knew that. Not that he was going to say so out loud.

König stood back up and hesitated, looking back and forth between you and the door.

“What?” You prompted him.

“You need to lock the door.”

“Ugh!” You turned your face into your pillow, hiding a grin. “Just leave it unlocked.” You’d get it later. You had to get up eventually. 

“I’m not leaving your door unlocked all night!” König chided as he looked back at you. Especially not when you were this weak and vulnerable! “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You pushed yourself up with another weak laugh and rolled your eyes. “König, you can barely fit on that couch sitting down.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving you with your door unlocked.”

“I’ll lock it later. Or, or just use my spare key.”

König stiffened, “spare key?”

“Yea. It’s on the shelf in the living room, in the white and blue bowl. With a Hello Kitty keychain.” 

As König followed your directions, finding the key easily, he fought with his own thoughts. You were not giving him free access to your flat whenever he wanted! You were just letting him borrow it because he was the one insisting the door be locked. 

After taking a moment to settle his racing thoughts, he popped back over to your room and knocked on the door to draw your attention. 

“Found it,” he said as he held up the key with its cute little cartoon charm attached. 

“Good.” You peeked up at him before settling back down, “thanks, König, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.”

He double checked that the door was locked before he made his way back to his own flat. And even though he thought he should return your key to you tomorrow, he looped it onto his own set of keys. 

-

König was concerned when in the morning you admitted to still not having eaten. He was even more concerned when he picked you up from work you admitted to also having skipped lunch. 

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, again, as he helped you down from the truck. “I’ll eat later. Right now I just need a nice hot shower and to stretch.” 

Thankfully it was the weekend and you’d get to spend the rest of your period in peace.

“Stretch?” He asked as he opened the door to the building.

“Yea,” you put a hand on your lower back. “My back doesn’t like when I hunch over so much.” 

König followed you inside and up the flight of stairs, all the way to your door, silent. Maybe you read his insistence on your well-being wrong, most men would rather not talk about women's periods, why should he be any different? 

He was so close to you as you unlocked your door though, that you had to open it and partially step inside just to properly turn to face him. You were about to thank him, but he was leaning down almost in your face.

“Wha-” 

He took your hands in his and looped them around his neck, “hold on.” 

“What?”

He then wrapped his arms tightly around your back and stood up straight, pulling you into a hug that lifted you off your feet.

You let out an involuntary groan as relief flooded you as your back released, the accompanying pop of your back cracking loud enough for both you and König to hear clearly. 

He set you back down, glad of the mask hiding his burning face, and loosened his hold on you until his hands were softly resting on your hips. 

You looked up at him, a bashful smile lighting your face as you continued to cling to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “That felt really good.” 

His eyes went wide and he quickly pulled his hands back, blood thrumming at the little whimper that you let out when your arms fell away from him. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. If he didn't leave now, he'd do something inappropriate, like push you up against a wall and devour you. The thought stirred him until he looked at you again, at the way you pressed a hand to your lower belly in an attempt to alleviate some of the cramping, and reminded him that now was not the time.

“I should, uh, leave you to that shower.”

You hummed and smiled, “alright. Thanks for the help, g’ni-”

“-And I’ll stop by to check on you in an hour.”

You breathed out a laugh, “you really don’t have to.”

“Will you eat?”

You made a face and groaned. While not nauseous enough to throw up from something as small as sipping water anymore, you weren’t quite feeling like eating just yet. Though, maybe you were at the point of questioning whether you were nauseous because you weren’t eating, or if you weren’t eating because you were nauseous. 

You opened your mouth to answer him, to tell him that you’d eat later, but he shook his head. “I’ll bring you something to eat in an hour.” And he walked away before you could protest.

You sighed, well, his heart was in the right place…

-

You were feeling infinitely better after a hot shower, glad to put on your comfiest t-shirt and shorts and wait for König to show up with food. Just as he said, a little under an hour later he knocked on your door. 

“I got you soup.” He said instead of a greeting when you answered, holding up a covered, steaming, glass container. 

“That actually sounds nice, thank you, König.” 

He smiled, the little creases around his eyes giving tale to it, behind his mask, as he walked in. “Good. I was afraid you would say you would eat later.” 

“I mean, it’s technically later now.” 

He shook his head and motioned towards the bar stools you had pushed up against the counter. “Sit.” 

He’d been over enough times to know where things were in your kitchen, and served up some of the soup with a glass of water. It was a light soup, mostly broth with finely diced vegetables. 

“Is this what you eat when you’re sick?” You asked as he continued to move around your kitchen.

“I don’t get sick.” 

You scoffed a laugh that you tried to play off as you blowing on the hot soup.

“...Yea.” He answered truthfully as he put a kettle on.

“No shame in a good ol’ Cup a Soup. I have some in the pantry, you didn’t have to raid your stash for me.” 

“Had to make sure you would eat.” 

You laughed a little at that, surprised at how well he seemed to know you. You would feel a little guilty for not finishing a bowl if it were something that he brought over instead of what you just had sitting in your pantry. 

“What kind of tea?”

“Peppermint. With two spoons of honey.” 

You were finished with your soup by the time he was done preparing your tea just the way you like. 

Following a cute little exchange of an empty bowl for a fresh tea cup, he motioned to your room with a nod, “go lay down. I will clean up.” 

“Kay. Thank you.” You didn’t argue with him this time, because all you really wanted to do anyway was climb in bed. 

König followed after you just to grab your heating pad then headed back to the kitchen.

You were careful with placing your tea on the nightstand, close enough to reach while you’re in bed and but not too close to the laptop that’s facing the bed. 

“I have something for you,” König started as he came back, just as you settled down.

First he handed you your heating pad, which you were glad to pull under the covers with you. Then he held up your favorite candy bar, “for when you feel better.” 

You chuckled, “aww, thank you, König!” 

He set that down next to your tea and shifted on his feet awkwardly before he looked at you again. “And this. Here.” 

He held out his hand in a loose fist towards you.

“Hm?” You reached out to let him drop whatever it was into your palm.

You blinked at the slightly warmed metal in your hand and smiled when you looked down. A single key attached to a plain key ring. 

König was looking up and away from you when you looked back at him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stuttered out an explanation. “Just in case, yea? I want you to keep it.” 

“Okay,” you said softly and reached over to the nightstand and slipped it inside the drawer. “I’ll keep it right next to me.” 

König’s heart fluttered at how intimate the simple little gesture sounded and he was once again glad that his face was covered. “Need anything else?”

You hummed and patted the bed next to you. “Cuddles?”

His eyebrows shot up at your request. “I thought you didn’t want to cuddle?”

“That was last night! But if you don’t want to cuddle, it’s fine. I’m sure I have a plushie around here somewhere.” You sat up and glanced around your room, trying to remember where you stashed that cute teddy bear you had.

Before you could point out your bear, König moved around to the other side of the bed and lifted the blanket enough to slip under it, muttering for you to lay back down. 

There was a bit of an awkward shuffle as he kicked off his boots and settled behind you, spooning you.

“Ack, you’re on my shirt, you’re choking me!” You half laughed as you tried to pull the tail of your shirt from under him.

He cursed and pushed himself up long enough for you to free yourself. “Why are you wearing such a big shirt?”

“It’s comfy!” 

“And where do you get such a big shirt?” He teased as he tugged on the excess material before settling his hand over the heating pad that was slipping, keeping it close to your abdomen.

“I stole it.”

“You stole it? From who?”

“Mmhm.” Then you paused to hit play on the movie you had picked out, “just…someone.” 

Your ex. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t even want to think of your ex while wrapped up in König’s arms, but your silence itself was loud enough for him to hear it. 

“Do you do that often?” “What?”

“Steal other people’s clothes?”

You laughed, “well, it is hard to resist a comfy shirt.” 

“Little thief.” He teased in German, chuckling at your “what?!” that followed.

You were familiar with his nicknames enough that you picked up on the word ‘little’ but you didn’t know the second word. 

“Only of comfy t-shirts!” you protested when he translated for you.

König chuckled and nudged you slightly, “watch your movie.” 

He didn’t pay attention to the movie, even if you did insist that it was good. He was too busy trying to figure out a way to tempt you with one of his shirts. 

[Neighbor!König Masterlist]

Neighbor König taglist: 

@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof @techs-ass @virginalsacrifice @s0rc3r3r @sleeplessskeleton @introvered-violinist @tizylish @romula96 @peach-habibitch @mitchlow @queenotaku27 @fenixnegras @emmbny @love-dove-noora @lesbianmitsuri @supergirl16 @wybwtjmiadz @ghonigsloverbabe @thatmusedhatter @grassclippers @skystreamchan @lordlydragon @luvecarson @thetestsubject666 @mafer383 @darkangel4121 @puppylikethedog  @trashitytrashitytrash 

[writerscall]

Enemies to lovers with spider hazel

author's note/s: 3.6k words. spider!hazel and fellow superhero/vigilante!reader, more of a one-sided annoyances to lovers, really. think kind of supergirl-esque for reader's powers (at least in the flying and strength aspect) and to help visualize reader's mask, click here for reference.

“So that’s, what, five bad guys down for me this week now and three for you? Maybe I’ll sit back and relax tomorrow so you can catch up.”

You can’t see the face behind that mask but you’re sure there’s a shit-eating grin on it. You roll your eyes at the quip. “Oh, fuck off. It’s not a competition.”

Not that that ever changed how annoyed you got whenever the tally was higher in her favor, though. But the webslinger’s count wasn’t what really got you riled up; wasn’t even how smug she could get about it. It was the way she executed the crime fighting skills that you assumed she was learning and making up as she went. Spiderwoman was messy and, ironically, uncoordinated half the time, but the worst part was that she drew too much attention.

You knew attracting the attention of the police and the papers was inevitable, but at least you had the good sense to not make a whole show of being a vigilante. Spiderwoman, on the other hand, just loved to stay and chat.

“Hey, come on, don’t be like that. You know I’m just messing around.” There’s a drop in her tone, clearly making an attempt to ease the tension. “You’re a lot faster than I am with rounding up criminals, so you get extra points for that.”

At that, you allow yourself to smile the tiniest bit. She can’t see it behind your own mask but if she was as observant as she claimed to be, she might see however little of it reached your eyes.

She clears her throat, bringing a hand to scratch at the back of her neck as she says, “So uh, I know it’s getting late and all, but I’ve got my backpack stashed somewhere not far from here and my lunch sandwich is still intact. It’s a pretty big one so you know, if you wanted a post-crime fighting snack…” 

It’s a harmless, friendly gesture so you hold back a scoff and snide comment. You get it — the business you were in was best done alone but it could get lonely after doing it for some time. Besides, masked heroes like the two of you wore masks for a reason: nobody could know who they were, and even fellow vigilantes weren’t an exception to the rule. But you supposed it would be nice to have a friend with the shared experiences.

Just… maybe not her. Or just maybe not yet. This wasn’t like making friends in school, after all.

“Not hungry,” you tell her shortly before lifting yourself off the ground, signaling that your conversation was over and you were leaving.

You hear her say something as you take off, but you can’t be bothered to look back.

Despite it being the last day of the week, you found Fridays particularly hard to get through. Mostly because you were itching for the weekend to come but because the bad guys in the city always seemed to act up during that day. The feeling in your stomach about what your evening patrol might turn out like was a mixture of both fear and excitement, but you tried your best to push it down for the time being. It was only the second period.

“You and Miss Callahan, partners,” your teacher says with a tap to your table as she strides by, listing off other pairs. You look over to Hazel who apparently is already looking at you, her eyes wide with… shock? A hint of nervousness in them too.

Weird. You were sort-of friends through the cheerleaders she was surprisingly close with, Isabel and Brittany, but you’ve never really spoken much to each other. Maybe she was worried you guys wouldn’t click without the other girls around.

You cast her a smile as she gets nearer, sliding the worksheet to the midpoint of the table. “The total number of questions is an even number, 12, so we can each get a half. But we can help each other too, of course.”

Hazel mutters something that sounds like an ‘okay,’ but she mumbles something else under her breath that you can’t quite make out.

Overall, the class goes fine. The osmosis experiment wasn’t too hard to do and the questions were manageable. It was just how Hazel acted throughout the whole hour that threw you off a little. You knew she could be as awkward as she could get excited, and sometimes she talked too much and didn’t pick up on social cues easily, but the whole time she just seemed… uncomfortable, if that was the right word. Like she really wanted to say something or do something but she couldn’t for whatever reason.

Once you’re both done cleaning up, she wastes no time in removing her laboratory coat and shoving it into her bag, but you don’t want to let her get away that easily. Gently, you place a hand on her forearm to stop her. “Hey, Hazel?”

She pauses, eyeing your hand for a second too long before looking at you. Properly looking at you. She could barely do it throughout the experiment.

“I just wanted to ask if everything’s okay?” You bring your hand back and begin to slip off your own coat. “It could be none of my business, so feel free to tell me off if you want, but you just seem a bit out of it.”

Hazel opens her mouth to speak, but her gaze quickly moves from your face to something beside you. Rather, on you; your shirt was pulled to the side while taking off the coat and it exposed the bruise at the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone. Shit.

“Oh, that’s— don’t worry about that. I just tripped and fell hard in P.E. the other day,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand, pulling your shirt back in place. God, you hoped nothing in your voice or face was giving you away. You doubt her first assumption would be that you were one of the masked vigilantes featured on the news, but she couldn’t be thinking of anything good either if she didn’t buy your excuse.

And she didn’t. “That doesn’t look too good,” Hazel says with a frown.

“It’s fine—”

“Come with me to the locker room? I’ve got something that can probably help with that. I mean, it’s not in the locker room, it’s in my actual locker and I’ll have to go get it from there first before going to the benches, but uh… um, yeah. I-I’ve got something.”

Her ramble ends with a sigh and you can’t help but smile at how she stumbled out all those words. Funny how you were the one all concerned about her just a minute ago and now the tables were turned. You didn’t want anybody seeing your cuts and bruises, or at least didn’t want anybody asking about them, but you didn’t get to ice the one she saw just yet. You’d take whatever ointment or cream she might have stashed away in her locker if it would help.

So you nod your head and walk with her towards the door. “Alright, yeah. I’m sure you know a thing or two about treating bruises, what with all that fighting you do.”

You almost bump into her when she stops and whips her head at you sharply, that wide-eyed look back on her face. What was with her today?

“Your fight club? With Isabel and Brittany and all those other girls?”

Hazel visibly deflates and lets out a half nervous, half relieved-sounding noise at that. “Yeah, yeah! Always gotta be prepared.”

You say nothing in return and follow along to her locker, deciding not to overthink it. Hazel could just be a little odd and there was nothing wrong with that.

“Ah—”

“Sorry, sorry,” she says, being even more careful than earlier with moving your shirt and bra strap to the side to expose the bruise more.

“It’s okay, just… I think it would be easier if I took my top off for this?”

Hazel actually makes a sound when she gulps. You’re quick to add, “Only if you’re comfortable with that, no pressure at all. It’s just that the bruise kinda trails off to the back too, so…”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. Whatever you’re more comfortable with. I’ll just…” she trails off, turning away so you can take your shirt off.

“Haze, you don’t have to do that,” you say with a chuckle. But it was instinct as it was for everyone when somebody was changing in their presence, and you knew there was an extra kick to it now for her.

Brittany and Isabel were always just poking fun, but you knew they teased Hazel about you sometimes. Both girls even asked you about your possible interest in her more than once. Hazel was cute and you did want to get to know her more, especially see how she was in that fight club because they always said she was different in that element. But considering your own after-school activities, dating was just out of the question.

Silently, Hazel turns back, cap off the tub of gel in her waiting hands. It was obvious that she was trying very hard to look nowhere else but your face and the area of the bruise, so you reach out and smile at her reassuringly. “Nothing to worry about. I know you’ve seen boobs before.”

“Well, not your boobs.”

She says it so casually that you’re both taken aback, but you just laugh. Thankfully, Hazel laughs along with you too.

You lean against the sink and she comes closer, stopping once her knees knock against yours. “Tell me if I’m pressing hard, okay?”

You smile at her again, softer this time. “Okay.”

It’s comfortably silent as she applies the gel on your bruise. High in vitamin C, she tells you at some point, cause it apparently helps bruises heal faster. Hopefully you didn’t get hit there again tonight so you could actually see if the science behind the gel worked or not.

When you turn around so she can work on the bruise’s extension on your back, you say, “That gel looks like it’s barely used. Do you have a stock of those at your fight club or do you guys just tough it out when someone gets a hit in?”

“This is my personal one, but most of us prefer to use the traditional ice packs. And unlike the rest of them, I heal pretty quickly.” Hazel smiles at your reflection in the mirror and you immediately smile back. You didn’t think it was possible for her to ever have a hint of cockiness in her tone. You kind of liked it.

“Like a regular superhero then, huh?”

She looks away, her smile dropping slightly. “Nothing like that. Um, you’re all good now.”

Hazel reaches for your shirt before you can even ask her to. You thank her with another smile and she moves away so you can put it back on.

As you walk alongside her to the exit, you stop her for a moment before pushing the doors open. “Thank you again. I’m pretty sure the gel is working already.”

Her gaze falls to the ground and once again she’s all fidgety and bashful. You hesitate for a second, but before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean forward to kiss her on the cheek. Just a light, friendly peck, even though ‘friendly’ might’ve been teetering over the edge at that point. Something shifted and you weren’t so sure you’d just laugh it off the next time Brittany or Isabel asked you about Hazel again.

You walk out of the locker room together, shyly glancing and smiling at one another until you have to part ways for your next classes.

Christ on a cross, you were really fucking tired. The city had been quiet since you started surveying it at around five o’clock and you were highly considering calling it a day at around half past seven, leave whatever happened in the later hours to the other crime fighters your city had one too many of. Hell, even to whatever cops who might be able to do their job properly for a change.

But a trio of snatchers caught your eye as soon as the thought occurred to you. So much for an earlier end to the week.

And you had them subdued with ease. Two of them were clearly new to the life of crime or just greatly inexperienced, and the other one was yelling at them half the time. Despite your skill and inhuman qualities, however, they were all relatively bigger than you so knocking them all out still took some time. You were two down with one to go when you heard a thwipping sound by your ear, and in the next split second, the snatcher was webbed to the wall.

Then you heard that voice. “Looked like you needed a hand.”

You look over your shoulder, groaning. “I didn’t, actually.”

“Well, I wanted to help you anyway. You’re welcome!”

“I’m not thanking you!”

The blare of police sirens comes not long after and you and Spiderwoman flee the scene before any of the cars come to a stop. Flying got you ahead of her since she relied on buildings to swing off from, but she caught up to you in no time. In just a few minutes, you were both back on the rooftop you left her at earlier in the week.

“You know, you’re right for making sure to never have to talk to the cops after putting the bad guys down. I should do that more. Those people really don’t like us.”

“I think you just talk a little too much for their liking.”

It’s not meant to be funny, but she laughs at you anyway. You might’ve put your guard down and decided to not be so irritated if it weren’t for the throbbing pain near your shoulder. You were sure the bruise there got bigger and worse after one of the snatchers got a good punch in that area.

“Yeah, well, I’m calling it a night. The city’s been quiet enough except for that one incident today, so I’m going home.” You sigh, moving to walk past her. “You should, too.”

“Hold on, I…”

You stop, waiting like she asked. If she was gonna ask you to hang out and share a sandwich again, she still wasn’t getting the answer she wanted.

She’s in a silent debate with herself for too long and you really, really wanted to go, so you say goodbye and start walking again. But just as you come shoulder to shoulder with her, she reaches out to touch yours and you wince back in pain. It just had to be the bruised one.

“Oh god, sorry.” She says as she takes her hand away. “Are you okay?”

“Obviously not, but I’ll be fine the next time we unfortunately cross paths again.”

“Wait, I just—”

“Look, Spidey, I really don’t have time—”

“Just take the tub of gel home then, if you don’t want me to take a look at it.”

What the hell was she talking about?

Then it hits you, and you freeze in place even before she says your name. Your actual name, written on your birth certificate and school records, written on that worksheet you shared just a couple of hours before.

Slowly, she begins to take off her mask. You almost want to tell her to stop but that wouldn’t change anything. Even if she didn’t show you her face now, you’d see it in two days time on Monday. Maybe even earlier if you happened to bump into her on the weekend.

Your greatest annoyance was the same person you thought you might’ve been developing a bit of a crush on earlier. You could not deal with any of that right now.

So you don’t.

“I know you’re probably freaked out by now, but I promise I haven’t—”

“I need to go.”

A crease forms between her brows. She starts to say something again but you’re quick to cut her off. “I need to go, okay? Just leave me alone.”

Hazel lets out a resigned sigh, looking to the floor as she nods. You fly faster than you ever have to get back home.

Your luck doesn’t get any better over the weekend when you get a fever on Sunday evening, making you miss class for the next three days. A paracetamol usually did the trick after a day, but the fatigue and exhaustion of your secret life was probably getting to you, too. But even with the ugly feeling of a fever, it was actually really nice to just stay in bed and drink soup for a change. It feels like you haven’t properly rested in weeks.

Your mind, however, was still restless. You tried not to look at the news too much in case there was some criminal that got away and it would just make you feel awful for not being able to catch them. But you tried even harder not to message Hazel to talk.

“Hey kiddo, your friend from school is here. Says she has the notes and homework you’ve missed since Monday.” Your dad pops his head in as he speaks. You can’t see who’s behind him, but it was probably Isabel. She’s been checking in on you constantly.

“Yeah, just let Isabel in, dad.”

“Not Isabel,” says a different voice as the door shuts behind her. Speak of the devil. “But I do have Isabel’s notes because they’re way neater than mine,” Hazel adds, a sheepish look on her face.

You don’t say anything as you watch her cross the room, shrugging off her backpack and gently placing it on the seat by your study table. Then she turns to you, and you’re surprised to see the tears welling up in her eyes. “Hazel, what—”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just…” She shakes her head, angrily rubbing at her eyes. “I thought something really bad happened to you.”

“It was just a fever,” you tell her as you sit up straighter against your headboard.

“You know what I mean.”

You did. You reach out and pat the space beside you on the bed. “Come on, come here.”

Hazel does as she’s asked. Her gaze was focused on your carpet but you could see that her eyes weren’t glistening with unshed tears anymore, although they were rimmed red. “I’m fine, I promise. The fever’s gone now and I’ve been cleared to go back to school tomorrow.”

She nods but she’s still not looking at you, so you take one of her hands in between both of yours in an attempt to make her. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted on Friday night. I just didn’t know what to say and it was… it was a lot to take in at the moment. I was so sure that nobody knew who I was. I panicked.”

“I haven’t told anyone, I swear.” Hazel looks at you then, holding your gaze like her life depended on it. “I know I talk too much but I would never do that to you. Never.”

You can’t tell if she’s quoting you from your last conversation or not on that last part, but you believe her. “I know. I’d never tell anyone about you either, Hazel.”

She looks down at your hands when you rub your thumb across the side of hers and, after a moment, she laces her fingers with yours. There was a burst of warmth in your chest and you could tell there was one in Hazel’s too. So much for your one rule of not dating anyone because of the dangerous part of your life.

Not that you thought the two of you were dating, though.

“So… now what?”

“Well, life goes on as it did before, I guess.” You scoot closer to her, smiling as you add, “But I guess we can hold hands every now and then, if you like.”

“Oh, I like. I very much like,” Hazel replies enthusiastically, a matching smile on her face. She holds on to your hand tighter. “Can I kiss you every now and then too?”

“You haven’t kissed me yet.”

But that’s changed in a heartbeat, both of you leaning forward at the same time. You tug her closer, unlacing your hands so you can bury one in her hair as the other holds on to the side of her face. Hazel kisses you slowly, but there was an urgency to it as well; like something could happen the next day that would ensure she would never be able to do it again — but all things considered, that was an unfortunate thing that very well could happen. You kiss her back just the same, savoring the moment and praying to every god out there that your mom or dad wouldn’t come barging in any time soon.

She pushes you down onto the bed and pulls away with a grin, planting kisses across your cheek and down to your neck. You hold back from verbally reacting to that and the feeling of her hands on your hips, her thumbs gently caressing the skin there. It takes too much energy for you to manage to say, “Hazel, Haze… my parents are home.”

Hazel brings her face back up to yours. Instead of looking disappointed, she just looks pleased. “I know, sorry. Got carried away — I have been fantasizing about this for a while now, though, so cut me a little slack.”

You giggle out an ‘okay’, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Also, if there’s any of that fever bacteria still in me, I apologize in advance if you get sick in a day or two.”

“Don’t even worry about me,” Hazel says with a shake of her head, leaning down to kiss you soundly once more. “I heal fast.”

[trashogram]

If we're sharing Satan pairing ideas, I've got one of my own: Satan X Dragonslayer!S/O (I... have thought a lot about this if it isn't obvious.)

S/O is loosely based on Piers Shonks.

Like Piers, the Dragonslayer slays a dragon and pisses off the Devil...

Except the dragon and the Devil are one and the same.

Satan is torn between being pissed that a mortal defeated him and grudging respect.

The Dragonslayer goes to Hell when they die (because they were a crusader or something, idk) and proceeds to fight everything in sight. (Partly because they're in denial about going to Hell instead of Heaven... but mostly because what self-righteous holy warrior wouldn't?)

Satan hears and is like "Sweet! Rematch time!"

He loses again.

Now he's angry. (And a little turned on...)

Satan returns to fight the Dragonslayer again... and again... and again.

One day Lucifer intervenes because those two idiots have wrecked half the Pride Ring and now Lilith is mad so he tells them to take it somewhere else.

Satan (reluctantly) arranges to have the Dragonslayer brought to a remote corner of Wrath where they can fight uninterrupted as much as they want.

At some point it stops being about winning and starts being about just the challenge of battle itself. Their rivalry grows into mutual admiration and eventually something more.

Skip forward like a century or two and now they're an item.

Nobody knows how it happened (not even Satan and the Dragonslayer, honestly.)

Weirdly enough, more often than not Satan is the more personable of the two. (The Dragonslayer still kind of wants to fight everything due to the whole "righteous holy warrior" thing.)

The Dragonslayer is still a little bit in denial about the whole "got sent to Hell because they were a bad person" thing (Yes, even after getting in bed with the literal Devil!) and Satan, being Satan, just finds the whole thing adorable.

The Dragonslayer does enjoy looking after demon horses, and Satan builds them a ranch so they can keep themselves busy (i.e. not going on murderous rampages through the local demon population) when he's not around.

An idiot with more ambition than sense once tried to get at Satan through the Dragonslayer... said idiot was promptly turned into feed for the demon horses.

The Dragonslayer is rarely seen in public, and almost never without Satan by their side. This is less for their protection and more everyone else's.

Spooky stories slowly spread through Hell's populace about Satan's crazy S/O, imp parents start using them as a boogeyman to scare their children into behaving, that sort of thing. (Satan may or may not have encouraged said stories.)

Sometimes, if Satan finds a criminal particularly despicable, he'll have the Dragonslayer be the one to execute them. (It makes the Dragonslayer happy.)

The Dragonslayer gets quite a few unofficial monikers over the years, like "The Accuser's Hound," "The Executioner," and "Satan's Sword" among others. (Satan thinks the monikers are either badass or hilarious.)

Satan and the Dragonslayer can be surprisingly wholesome behind closed doors.

That said, they still beat the shit out of each other periodically (for fun! They always cuddle afterwards! ❤ ...It's also how they decide who tops that night.)

The Dragonslayer is still banned from the Pride Ring by order of Lilith due to wanton sinner slaughter and (more importantly) destruction of property.

The Dragonslayer is actually going to anger management therapy with Satan to be a supportive S/O. (What? No! They don't need it too! Don't be absurd! They totally need it.)

Everyone else just wants to know how the Hell these idiots are still together after all this time.

Awww 🥹 this is beautiful!

[dandedoodles]

366/366 - Project Completed<3

Long, sappy reflection under the jump

I mean it! This is going to be rather sappy and this is your only other warning, but overall this project of Rydia Every Day has been so transformative for me as an artist.

In 2023 I made very little art and it was rather disheartening. I wondered if I could really call myself an artist at all and I remember being at work thinking about the cycles of things I was stuck in, cycles that are all relatively hard to break. At the very least I knew I could start with art and, unfortunately, I do not really have a chill bone in my body when I decide to make something. I want to go big because, to me, going home simply isn't an option when it comes to creative endeavors. Often my hubris is a huge bite in the ass and the defeat can be hard to shake off when I don't live up to my very high expectations for myself, but I promised myself that, in 2024, I would fully commit to a practice I deeply believe in: I made this for me, but you can see it too. At the same time, every year around this time of year I also have the visual of an arrow being pulled back tight before it's sure to be launched into a grand horizon. It's cheesy and cliche but it really got me thinking about where my arrow could go in 2024.

So I set rules for myself, some of which I realized needed to be appropriately bent here and there as the year unfurled before me. Rydia Every Day had the following rules:

She had to be fully colored even while not necessarily rendered

She had to be in a relatively different pose and outfit

I could only give myself 4 hours and a 1080x1080px canvas to work with (the final is an exception so that she can serve as a page spread in the artbook I'll have made for myself as a physical copy of my year in art. She is 1080x2160px)

I had to post it to hold myself accountable and because of that I had to shake off the feeling of "being cringe" and talk about my art more in person to people I know in the real world.

It all sounded so easy in concept and, most days, it was, but this year was particularly difficult in my personal life for numerous reasons. That's when I started to realize how important the promises we keep to ourselves are just as important as the promises we keep towards others. Learning more about discipline, time management, what my best looked like each day, and ultimately what artistic growth and commitment looked like was a doozy on top of just living a life and being a person who works, has friends, and has a spouse. I'd be lying if I said I didn't go through periods of really hating working on this, some days it was a slog but the positives weighed more than the frustration. Not once did it feel like homework or a chore, but on so many occasions I realized on a bad day "I get to go home and work on Rydia!" or "Well at least Rydia's already finished today" depending on what my day looked like. Slowly I recontextualized and reframed negative aspects of my day and it made me grow as not just a person but as an artist.

My growth as an artist saw me with a whopping 21 commission clients this year that I had never had before. All because people saw Rydia and liked her and what they saw in my presentation of her to hire me, trust me even, with their creative vision. There are no words for what that feels like because it's more than graciousness, more than pride, and more than satisfaction. Art is something I've always viewed as so much bigger, so much more ancient than I am; it's a calling. It's a passion. It is the thing I spend most of my time thinking about. To call my relationship with art a hobby would be doing it a disservice. So I can not thank any of my clients enough for hiring me, you have helped me feel like I "made it" as an artist this year. And all because of Rydia.

She is my favorite character out of any of the characters I've ever made to tell stories with or draw for so much more than her design, her lore, or my connection to the JJBA fandom. She is an embodiment of my endurance, growth, and self love.

So thank you all, especially if you've read this, for joining me over the last 366 days. Your kind words and company meant so much on the good days and even more on the bad. I love you dearly and hope you're here to see what I make next now that I've realized, in the most humble way possible, I can do anything I set my mind to.

This year I:

have spent, approximately, 1,400 hours working on art (that is almost 16% of my entire year)

favored pink, blue, and brown in my artwork most

learned to draw fat and skin folds, enhanced my understanding of the movement of the body, perspective, and flesh tones, & thought about the stories I told without words in my work

made my very first piece of physical "merchandise" (a Rydia keychain of which only 3 exist)

and knew the love and support of so many people along the way

[alanjeffbrainrot]

AJ Pregnancy Shenanigans Pt. 2

CW// nsfw, mpreg, breeding kink, minors DNI

To read pt. 1 ~~~~~~~~~~~ Find it on AO3

Word count: 2.4k

My masterlist

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

Jeff wasn’t sure what to expect when he found out he was pregnant but he wasn’t banking on Alan becoming incredibly territorial, the alpha more often than not touching him in one way or another.

The first day Jeff goes back to the garage (Alan took a few days off with him, knowing his alpha wouldn’t want Jeff around anyone else for a bit) Alan traps him against their front door before leaving. His mouth goes straight for Jeff’s scent gland kissing, sucking, and nipping slightly at it. The omega melts at the attention, loving the feeling of his alpha staking his claim, biting his lip to try and keep himself from making any noise.

Jeff’s hands come up and grip Alan’s hips, pulling him closer, wanting to lose himself in the feeling. “Alan” he breathes out, just to get a hum in response as alan switches to the other side of Jeff’s neck, “Alan” he tries again, “we need to go to work or we’re never going to make it.”

A small growl leaves the alpha as he presses himself closer. He finally pulls his face away to look Jeff in the eyes, a thrum of desire running through both of their bodies. “Would it really be that bad ?” Alan asks, going straight back to what he was doing.

“Babe has been running the garage for three days Lung, he’s gonna come to find us if we don’t come in today and I dont particularly want Charlie walking in while we’re…” he pauses for a second, moving one of his hands from Alan’s waist up to his chest, “indisposed.” He whispers against Alan’s ear before pushing the alpha away from him.

Groaning, Alan concedes, shaking his head while chuckling. “I guess you got me there nu. We’ll pick this up later” he says, winking at Jeff and moving to finish grabbing his wallet and keys. Oh boy, Jeff thinks, he’s going to be a handful now won’t he.

Alan managed to get through the day, only growling at a mechanic once when they stepped a bit too close to Jeff. Once the employees left, and it was just the gang sitting around chatting (re: Charlie, Babe, North, Sonic, Kim, Kenta, and Way), Charlie moves to be next to jeff and fixes him with a pointed stare.

“What” jeff asks, squirming under his gaze.

“You were gone for days and you reek of Alan. What’s going on.” Charlie tried to be discreet, he really did, but given North and Sonic were in the room that really wasn’t an option.

“And Lung growled at someone !! Seriously !! He hasn’t been this territorial since right before you got together.” North points out, earning a smack on the back of his head from the alpha in question.

“North has a point though” Babe chimes in, “you didn’t leave his side at all today.”

The group all falls silent, looking between the couple. Jeff sighs, rubbing his eyes before getting up to stand next to Alan. “Should we just tell them” he mutters. They had only talked briefly about when to tell the team but had both landed on wanting to give it a few weeks before announcing anything.

While they’re looking at eachother, babe lifts his nose and subtly scents the air, eyes going wide when he notices the slightly milky tinge to Jeff’s normal peach scent. Not noticeable to anyone else, given Alan scenting him periodically during the day, but because of his senses Babe is able to catch the new note in the omegas scent. Babe’s eyes go wide as he puts two and two together, reaching his hand out to grip Charlie’s. Charlie looks at him confused before directing his attention back on his brother.

But Jeff happens to catch his reaction, turning red and burying himself in Alan’s chest, knowing the racer has just worked out their secret. “I’m pregnant” he mumbles, unwilling to face the team. Alan wraps his arms around the omega, letting him nestle in before looking back at the team.

“What ?” Charlie asks, leaning in.

Jeff nods into Alan’s chest, giving the alpha permission to take over the conversation. “We’re expecting, Charlie. Jeff’s pregnant.”

Nobody moves for a few seconds, processing what their head alpha had just said before chaos broke loose. Charlie, Babe, North, Sonic, and Way all jumped up to surround the couple. Charlie pulled Jeff into a hug while the other four surrounded Alan, shouting congratulations and damn near tackling the man to the ground in a group hug. From over Charlie’s shoulder, jeff catches Kenta’s eyes which were shiny with tears. A genuine smile, one saved only for Jeff and Kim, warming his face as he leaned into Kim’s side. Kim himself was smiling, but his focus wasn’t on Jeff. He was smiling down at Kenta while he brings his arm up around his shoulder, pulling the quiet man into his side. Jeff’s heart warms at the sight.

His attention is brought back to Charlie as he pulls back. “I’m so happy for you nu. You two are going to be great parents.” The two brothers take a minute, looking over at the rest of their pack. Jeff chuckles seeing Alan rough housing with his gang of misfits.

As if sensing Jeff’s eyes on him, alan looks up and smiles at his omega. He manages to settle the others before pulling Jeff back into his arms, jeff leaning in and enjoying the closeness with his alpha and his pack.

“We have to celebrate” sonic shouts, bouncing beside north.

“Maybe later” Alan says, tightening his hold around jeff, “I should get jeff home.”

Wolf whistles are heard throughout the garage as Alan begins gathering their things, jeff groaning and hiding his face, wishing to be anywhere but there.

Once Alan’s ready they say their goodbyes, getting final congratulations from the pack before beginning to walk out of the garage. “Don’t be too hard on him Alan” the two hear Babe shout before the group bursts out into laughter. Alan flips him off over his head before finally walking out of the garage.

The entire ride home Jeff’s mind is reeling with what he wants to do, what he wants Alan to do to him, once they make it.

As soon as they make it through the front door, Jeff is right back where he started his morning. His back pressed up against the door with Alan caging him in face straight back in his neck working on an impressive hickey directly on his scent gland. Jeff moans, gripping the sides of Alan’s t-shirt and pulling his hips forward, seeking any type of friction he can get.

“God you smell fucking delicious” Alan growls, “don’t think I can get enough of you.” Alan pulls back, examining his work and making a low and pleased growling sound. He grabs the hem of Jeff’s shirt, pulling it up and over the man’s head before sinking to his knees and placing kisses all over his bare stomach. “I can’t wait for you to start showing, everyone will be able to tell that your mine.” Alan emphasizes his words by nipping at Jeff’s flat stomach, forcing a high pitched while from the man.

Alan’s hands come up, unbuttoning Jeff’s pants and yanking them down his legs along with his underwear, freeing his leaking erection. Alan glances up at jeff before swallowing him whole. Jeff moans, head thumping against the door as he pulls at the alphas hair.

Alan hums at the feeling, sending waves of pleasure up the omegas spine. The alpha begins bobbing his head, occasionally pulling up to suck at the tip before taking the omega back down his throat. Jeff has his eyes trained down, watching his alpha on his knees.

“Fuck, phi” Jeff moans out, beginning to rock his hips forward, chasing the heat of his alphas mouth. Jeff tugs on Alan’s hair again, trying to pull him off as he feels himself get closer to his release. “Alan” he pants, “I’m gonna cum”. That just spurs him on, doubling down his efforts while bringing a hand up to kneed at Jeff’s ass before digging his fingers into the flesh, finally getting to feel the slick absolutely dripping from Jeff at this point.

Jeff is right on the edge when he feels two fingers plunge into his hole. He lets out a final wrecked moan at the intrusion, crashing over the edge and spilling down Alan’s throat who happily swallows around Jeff’s cock, taking everything.

Alan finally pulls off, placing a final kiss on the tip before standing up and licking his lips, eyes trained on the omega with a dark and predatory gaze. Jeff is still leaned against the door, desperately trying to catch his breath while staring at the man in front of him. “Lung” he breaths out, “take your clothes off. I still need you”.

Alan immediately begins ripping his clothes off as Jeff is finally stepping out of his pants and boxers, leaving both men bare. Without words Jeff reaches his arms up, Alan immediately understanding and lifting him up. Before he begins walking, Alan pouts up at the omega, “kiss me ?”

Rolling his eyes at his sappy alpha, Jeff leans down and connects their lips, the two lazily making out as Alan navigates his house by memory.

Alan lays the omega out on their bed, taking a moment to just appreciate the view in front of him. Jeff squirms at the attention. “Please alan, need you.”

“You have me baby” alan replies while caressing every inch of skin on Jeff’s smooth legs before his hands land on the boys stomach. “Can’t wait to see you” Alan mutters, brain seemingly back on the idea of when Jeff will finally be showing, “round with my pups. God you’re so perfect.” Alan looks up, locking eyes with Jeff, “my perfect little omega, yeah ?”

“Yours” Jeff repeats, “only yours.”

Alan surges up, roughly kissing Jeff while two fingers once again make their way into Jeff’s tight heat, slowly working him open. After a minute Jeff begins wiggling his hips, gasping out a small “more” in between kisses. Alan adds another finger, slowly scissoring his fingers open as Jeff’s slick begins making its way down his wrist.

Jeff seems to get impatient, whining and grinding down more. “Alan, please” Jeff says, pulling away from the kiss and pouting at the man above him.

Alan can’t resist laying a final sweet kiss on Jeff’s lips before pulling back and slowly sliding his fingers out of Jeff. He brings his hand own to his own cock, pumping himself a few times to relieve some of the tension and slick himself up. Alan grabs Jeff’s legs and put them over his shoulders leaning forward and lining himself up.

Locking eyes with the omega, Alan whispers an “I love you” before slowly sinking into Jeff, inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed. They both let out a relieved breath, Jeff basking in the slight stretch he feels over Alan’s size.

After a few seconds the two lock eyes and Jeff nods, Alan pulling almost completely out before pushing back in. He begins a steady rhythm, enjoying the feeling of jeff surrounding him and the knowledge that he’s the only one that gets to take the omega apart in this way.

“Gonna fuck you full” Alan snarls out, alpha instincts taking over, “keep you round with my pups all the time”

Jeff throws his head back, overwhelmed with pleasure as he can feel his second orgasm of the night building. “Alpha” he cries out “need it, please, need your knot.”

Alan speeds up, pounding into the omega as he chases his own release. He shifts his hips, beginning to hit Jeff’s prostate head on with each thrust.

“Fuck !” Jeff screams, “please, please, right there”. Jeff’s knows he’s rambling at this point, begging if he was being honest, but at this point he didn’t care. He knew what he needed. He needed his alpha to knot him, needed to come again, needed Alan to bite him.

As soon as the thought enters his mind, Jeff lets out a broken sob and cums untouched, streaking his chest and causing him to clench around Alan’s cock.

“Oh fuck” Alan moans at the new feeling as well as the image of his omega cumming so suddenly, cock still twitching between them. “I’m close baby” he whispers out, leaning down to kiss away the tears that had begun falling down Jeff’s cheeks without losing his pace.

A few thrusts later, Alan’s knot begins catching on Jeff’s rim before he pushes it fully in, knot popping while the alpha moans loudly. He continues rocking forward, riding out his orgasm while quiet whimpers are coming from Jeff, just on the cusp of uncomfortable overstimulation.

Alan colapses forward, caging the omega in while peppering kisses all over the omegas face. “So good, so perfect for me.” They lay there for a few minutes, Alan whispering praises while they both catch their breath. Once his knot goes down, Alan pulls out and shuffles them around so Jeff is laying on his chest, face tucked into the alphas neck purring quietly. Both of them just enjoying the closeness.

“Alan” Jeff calls quietly, “would you ever consider… mating me?”

Alan’s arms immediately tighten around the omega, breath hitching as he looks down. “Jeff, baby, look at me” he says, waiting until Jeff raises his eyes, “I would love nothing more than to have you as my mate.” He plants a soft kiss on Jeff’s lips before continuing, “I want to build a family with you. Keep you close, make sure everyone knows your mine. You know…” Alan says, voice dropping an octave while smirking, “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to keep you full with my pups.”

“God” Jeff groans out, pushing away from the alphas chest and rolling over as if he was annoyed but the tips of his ears slowly turning red was a dead giveaway to him just being embarrassed at how brazen his alpha could be.

Alan let’s put a loud laugh at the reaction before catching the small omega around the waist and pulling his back to his chest, hands fully encompassing Jeff’s small stomach. “I love you Jeff, that’s never going to change. Just tell me when you want me and I’ll make you mine officially.”

Heat spreads through Jeff’s chest at Alan’s declaration. “I love you too” he whispers, playing with Alans fingers.

Alan detached himself from Jeff’s back, standing up before lifting him up bridal style and begins carrying him to the bathroom. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up and then we can cuddle. Yeah ?”

Jeff tightens his arms around Alan’s neck, sleepily letting out a hum of agreement, really just enjoying being close to his alpha.

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

A/N: holy shit that ended up a lot longer than I expected it to 😭😭 I’m honestly enjoying writing this so I may continue with a part 3 but I think the next longer fic will be the student/teacher au 🤌🏻

Hope y’all enjoyed !

[the-final-sif]

In a period where we are seeing increasing levels of bad faith takes, particularly from right wing assholes/terfs/nazis/etc, I think it's time that people on the left learn about eating the red card. The best example I've heard of shrugging off fake power structures.

Transcript below the cut.

Mike: Sure.

Dan: Mhm. So did you say any of those things by the way?

Mike: Nope. I didn't say any of that.

Jordan: Maybe next time.

Dan: Interesting.

Mike: Maybe next time. [crosstalk with Jordan], maybe cnn can invite me on and give me a shot-

Jordan [crosstalk with Mike]: Next time you're on CNN, give it a try.

Mike: I will say all those things, but that won't matter because I'll just have not said something else.

Jordan: No it won't.

Dan: Yeah. Go on and say, just do a satanic ritual on air and see- see how he plays that one.

Jordan: That's where I feel like we're like we're at-

Dan: He'll probably ignore it.

Jordan: I feel like we're all in eat the red card territory. You know, like if somebody says, "Oh, you, you're, you lied about this." Just be like, yeah, you're fucking right. I did. And I'll do it to your face and your mom's face! Fuck you!

Dan: Is that, is that a reference to my story?

Jordan: Yeah.

Dan: Okay. I didn't know if that-

Jordan: That resonated with me.

Dan: I didn't know if that was like vernacular-

Jordan: No, no, for me-

Dan: Wow.

Jordan: Yeah, that story is stuck with me forever.

Dan: That's pretty sweet.

Jordan: I love that story.

Dan: So Mike, I'll give you the short version of this.

Mike: Okay.

Jordan: When I was a kid, my parents only let us play soccer because the other games were like, I don't know, not European enough or something.

Mike: Oh, sure, okay.

Dan: We, we would play and on my brother's team, there was this guy who was kind of a bad-ass. And so in one game, he got a yellow card and he ate it.

Mike: Wow.

Dan: And so immediately the ref pulled out a red card, gave it to him, and he ate that too.

Mike:: Yeah.

Jordan: Like- what do you- See, I feel like that's just such a great story of like, what did you think was going to happen? You thought that you would exercise your real authority finally. And the truth is you have none because I'm going to eat this red fucking card and then walk away. You're nothing to me. Yeah.

Dan: So that, in sort of the metaphor, that is doing a satanic ritual on CNN.

Jordan: Yeah, totally. Absolutely. Yeah!

Jordan: Oh, they say he does satanic rituals. Fucking- let's see if I can do one! If you think satanic rituals are real and you believe that I do them,then should I do one on TV? It should work.

Mike: Yep.

Jordan: So eat the red card, man!

Dan: Don't do that.

Jordan: See if you can summon a demon.

Dan: Mike, don't do this.

Jordan: Summon a demon, Mike. Mike summon a demon.

Dan: There's an angel in a, uh, pride, uh, devil month on your shoulder.

Mike: Pride demon month- gotta go out in my pride demon month shirt?

Jordan: Angel month isn't until August. You've still got a couple of days.

[cheriladycl01]

Quirk #6

Here is my sixth quirk idea! Feel free to use this in your fanfics (just give me credit if you directly got it from me) obviously I know however I’m not the only creative person in the world and that some people may have also had these ideas before me!

Quirk: Sense

She can heighten any of her senses to inhuman levels.

This entails:

- Being able to heighten any of the five senses so sight, touch, smell, taste and sound. However for each sense heightened she will loose one other sense/ or her senses gett dampened for how strong the other senses are. So normally she’ll loose Smell and Taste as she doesn’t need them and will go crazy with Sight, Strength Hearing. She can however use just one. So strength, and it will be crazy strong but all of her other senses go.

- looses senses also depends on importance. So if she gets rid of taste (which doesn’t affect her too much), her hearing won’t improve as much as if she lost her sight or touch etc.

- Super Human Strength

- Super Human Sight

- Super Human Smell

- Super Human Taste

- Super Human Hearing

Weaknesses

- She looses senses the more powerful the others get. Being blind in battle will be a crazy disadvantage just to be insanely strong. (however with lots of training shes able to use it effectively).

- Lots of teamwork is necessary particularly when she’s lacking her other senses so teaming up with people like Todoroki and Bakugo who (at the start of the anime) aren’t seen to be team players can be hard.

- Takes lots of energy if she is continually switching between which sense they loose

Strengths

- I can imagine she’d train herself to be able to fight like Daredevil in Marvel and she’d opt to loose her sight a lot of the time and learn how to use hearing and feelings around her more.

- Quirk Awakening would give her an option when she can super heighten all of her senses at once for a period of time but like … she’d damage her senses doing this.

- Her quirk is incredibly versatile, she’s able to not only help on the frontlines with fighting but she’s great for getting intel.

Hero Name:

Inochishirazu (DareDevil)

Zodiac: Cancer

Ethnic Background: Japanese

Height: 5ft 11

Weight: 160ibs

Style: Punk

Physical Traits: Very Muscular, but kinda like a sleeper build so you wouldn’t know looking under clothes.

Mannerisms: She’d idolise DareDevil’s (from Marvel) fight style and so she’d have a lot of things she copies from him.

Favourite:

Food: Prawn Cocktail Crisps

Drink: Iced Latte with Hazelnut Syrup

Colour: Green

Weather: When weathers mash together that shouldn’t. Snow and Lightening, Sun and Rain etc

Possession: Being able to use one of her senses after prolonged use of the others.

Morning Routine:

She has a fear one day she’ll loose all her senses so she’ll go through and check each of them work. Writing down the first 5 things her senses observe or come into contact with.

Hobbies:

Origami

Special Skills:

Again like Scan, she kind of has a cheat, she’s pretty good at most things as she can use her quirk to her advantage.

Pet Peeves:

Things that she can’t use her senses to dull. Like hot rooms etc (even if she can’t feel it the physical effects remain on her body)

Bad At:

Decision making, she isn’t a team leader and is always looking to someone else for an answer.

Biggest Fear:

Loosing her senses.

Greatest Flaw:

Turning off all her senses whenever it all gets too much and not letting anyone in and just being … there.

Goals:

To develop her quirk to the max that it will go.

Who I see them with:

Guys - TODOROKI, Vlad King

Girls - Ibara Shiozaki , UWABAMI

[clatterbane]

My new gear, y'all! Ain't it lovely.

I am not going to model it even on here, because there are too many damn weirdos around. No free pics showing the stump at all from me. (Though, I might be able to get a pretty lucrative side business going--if the whole idea didn't creep me right the fuck out so bad. Even as the sorta dykey middle-aged nerd that I am.)

But, the appointment did turn out pretty well!

(Again, with the aid of sometimes wonky autotranslate.)

So yeah, they did seem to think that most of what I actually need at this point is to build up stamina up on my feet again. Which is pretty much my take on it too. With the rehab part to start once they get the initial custom leg fabricated.

In the meantime, they did send me home with silicone liners in a couple of sizes to get used to wearing. At no point did I roll the things onto my arm; that was one of the funky translations. You do get them on by turning them inside out and then rolling them on like the thickest, most unwieldy compression sock or nylon stocking/tights you can imagine.

Besides the getting accustomed to wearing them part, evidently they just don't use the fabric "stump shrinker" compression socks at all locally. (Which are standard a lot of other places.) The two specialist staff I was dealing with today had no idea what that was when I asked about it, even after I pulled up pics in case it might be a communication thing. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Complete sidenote: Looks like I will have to measure myself and buy some out of pocket after all! The things are useful for helping keep a lid on nerve pain, besides "just" the compression overnight and when you're letting your leg breathe out of a liner.)

Nope, they're putting people straight into the sweaty silicone liner sleeves, generally within a few days after surgery. And entirely relying on that for compression. After this amount of time, my stump has indeed already atrophied a lot and there hasn't been any swelling for quite a long while. But, I never got fitted with any compression anything before we left the UK. And they wanted to give my leg at least a few weeks of regular compression before even starring to fit the first socket for the aftermarket leg.

Putting the smaller size liner on at first did almost have me throwing up in the floor. Not in small part because they had me try it RIGHT AFTER one of them had been hands-on examining the stump and purposely trying to trigger the nerve pain! 🤬 (For which I have been totally unmedicated since 2021, I might add. Which is unusual.) They did not seem to consider that this might not be ideal. (!)

Yeah, extremely tight kinda thick silicone did not feel great after that. The nerve pain was already VERY ANGRY when it went on. And I really couldn't keep a straight face.

The one size up was tolerable then, so they sent both with me. I figure the tighter one will probably be fine other than sensory badness when the damaged nerves are not in full Hulk Mode.

I am apparently supposed to work up to wearing the things for 3-4 hours straight, two periods a day.

I did not much like the apparent lack of understanding of how nerve pain works, or the perceived pressure to white knuckle through it. Or, you know, just not have any. Much less coming from people whose whole job is working with amputees. (Just try chopping somebody's limb off without doing significant nerve damage in the process...)

Again, there may have been some communication issues thrown in too. But the (pretty direct) message I was hearing was "How do you expect to use a prosthesis, if you're gonna be such a whiny baby about a liner sleeve?"

But, we'll see. I am really hoping that's not an indication of what to expect, moving forward through this whole process.

I may also end up needing to just ask who I need to talk to, in order to get back on some meds. AFAICT, that is the team that's supposed to handle all of this stuff.

I don't particularly want to live with Lyrica side effects again, but it did help some with the other neuropathy besides the directly sliced nerve bullshit. Even more in combination with the Tramadol, but good fucking luck with that here from experience to date. I am just about willing to deal with the dumb and tired, if it means the difference between excruciating nerve pain on the daily and not.

At any rate, next stop after they decide my stump is compressed enough is apparently a socket fitting. Where hopefully I will be able to discuss options more with a prosthetist.

Today they were also pushing pretty hard toward a suspension (attachment) system that I don't think I particularly want from listening to actual amputees with experience of different types. I want to know what models of ankle and foot they're proposing to give me.

And of course I also want to make damned sure that they don't just automatically default to the horrible uncanny "flesh" tone components that apparently some older people in particular do want.

Today they brought out an example leg very much like what this prosthetist is also using for demonstration purposes here--and I was seriously creeped out enough that I resisted looking at or touching the thing. (They ended up handing it to me, whether I wanted anything to do with it or not.)

It's not the fact that it is a prosthetic leg that gives me the willies, at all. It is totally the uncanny mannequin parts effect. And I would really prefer to be able to use whatever leg and foot that I do end up with.

[rosalindbeatrice]

Thought I'd dust off this 10-year-old Tumblr and invite A03 readers and any Bob Dylan fans to keep up with my writing here. Other unrelated content to maybe be added, maybe not. I really struggle with personal writing. I always think of it as looking at one's own excrement and then inviting others to gawk too. It feels strange and gross to write a blog and expect others to be interested in it. RE: The Patient. Part VI is in progress. I got blocked in late October--or maybe that's just a grand way of saying "busy." I have a personal life into which I'm forever cramming little interests in side projects, and then it was November 5, 2024, and then of course the unthinkable happened again, which I suppose makes it thinkable. And maybe that's why it wasn't as devastating this time around. I used the occasion to disconnect from the political news cycle and continue a recent left turn into poetry, which I haven't written in 15 odd years or so. Actually Bob Dylan was the reason for my foray back into it. I saw him live in September and was quite moved by the experience. I got to thinking about his legacy, all the interpretations and expectations people put on his lyrics and performances and public endeavors throughout the years, and the disappointment it seemed like 5/6 of the audience that night felt over the fact he's not attempting to play recognizable versions of his songs. Which is ridiculous, because you can go back to 1966 and he wasn't attempting to replicate the recorded versions. It seems ridiculous that anyone should expect an 83-year-old to try to mimic a 25-year-old. So a poem came pouring out and I sent out it for publication. I secretly hope it will be so good that the editors will have no choice to select it. I'm also realistic, since I've gotten my first rejections the past couple months. That's one of my other behind-the-scenes projects. I'm shopping around a book to an agent (not fiction) and I've gotten three or four rejections so far, and I'm just letting it "bake" for now, just like I've been letting The Patient bake, but more on that in a moment.

In November, Bob tweeted: "Saw Nick Cave in Paris recently at the Accor Arena and I was really struck by that song Joy where he sings ‘We’ve all had too much sorrow, now it the time for joy.' I was thinking to myself, yeah that’s about right.” I read Cave's response, and particularly loved this:

I did indeed feel it was a time for joy rather than sorrow. There had been such an excess of despair and desperation around the election, and one couldn’t help but ask when it was that politics became everything.

The world had grown thoroughly disenchanted, and its feverish obsession with politics and its leaders had thrown up so many palisades that had prevented us from experiencing the presence of anything remotely like the spirit, the sacred, or the transcendent – that holy place where joy resides.

While I abhor the lazy line of thinking (and I'm not at all suggesting this is where Cave is coming from) that "both sides are at fault/just as bad/to blame" and have no intention of disengaging from politics, at least locally, Bob and Cave's reflections had me reflecting. Life is so short. Music, poetry, writing, and nature make it worth living. There's something to be said for tuning out of the hateful noise and tuning into those things, at least for select periods. So I wrote poetry and I drank in music and I finished the book I started that night at Bob's concert, Susan Hill's Strange Meeting. I'd never heard of Hill before but had picked up my 1970s paperback copy at a "donate what you can" book sale earlier that day because it was slim enough to carry around. This chance purchase ended up being my favorite book of the year. Not only is Hill an amazing writer, the whole experience of the book was just gutting. I realized midway through that it's a love story. There are no overt overtones of queerness, although I suppose you could read the book that way if you wanted. I kept thinking about the characters days after I read it. I've just bought three or four more of her books. So to get back to The Patient, I haven't written partly because I've been busy in my personal life and partly because I've been directing my creative energies elsewhere. I'd be lying if I didn't acknowledge I was stuck on the story, though. I know how it ends, but I couldn't see the footpath there. It didn't bother me overtly. I don't know if I really believe in writer's block, at least for me. I've learned that I go through periods of fallowness and periods of intense growth. I was letting it percolate before I started pushing it along with pomodoros. At some point today, though, I started chewing over Bob and Joyce again, and things clicked. I know fan fiction is "only" fan fiction, but I still take it seriously. I want to do right by the characters.* They just weren't talking to me lately. I know what Joyce wants and what she thinks so wants, and I know what Bob thinks he wants and he's afraid of, but I didn't know what happens in the meantime. So anyway, I'm about 4k words into the chapter with 5k to 6k to go. Estimated completion date is January. The overachiever in me wanted to finish it before the Chalamet film was released yesterday, partly because I didn't want anyone to think the story had been influenced by the film, but the part of me that's gone to therapy said, 'Slow down and chill the fuck out.' I haven't seen the Chalamet film, but I'm cautiously optimistic. I might go catch it on Monday or Tuesday. I don't find Chalamet much of a heartthrob. It's the elder millennial in me I think. Also the me that just detests pop culture. I saw him in Little Women and completely forgot he'd been in it. The more checked out I am from pop culture the better. Anyway, enjoy this photo of Bob by the pool ca. 1965 that I stole off the Internet. You can find The Patient here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55283422?view_full_work=true

*Make no mistake, Joyce and Bob are characters. I have no pretense that I know Bob Dylan. I can make educated guesses about Bob Dylan. Plus writing is just fun, doubly so with real musical artists and writers because they're so multilayered. There's a lot of material to work with, but you get to fill in the interstitials too.

[royallygray]

pssst. Knocking on the door to your inbox

It’s so totally okay if you have no intentions of finishing it or forgot or got distracted or aren’t interested anymore, but quite a while ago you mentioned a Joel x Joel fanfic (according to your pinned post, it’s apparently the reason we became mutuals, which is wild /pos)

I’d be really curious to read it if you did end up writing it! Did anything come of that? Is there a snippet you could share? No pressure at all though :)

Oh my god I have forgotten about it. periodically I do scroll through my drafts and come across it.

The Google doc is called "I am a heathen"

it's not finished. THEY DONT EVEN KISS?? I'm mad I might have to continue it but this. Joel and joel have got some sexual tension going

-- -- * -- --

Joel polished the counter of his bar with his washcloth. Business was slow tonight. It was a Tuesday. Tuesdays never particularly brought good things.

Business was actually more than slow, Joel mused. No one was here. Except for him. He sat down on the stool behind the counter and sighed, resting his head on the counter. It was rather boring, the same five quiet songs playing on repeat.

Maybe he should get a drink. Maybe…

His eyes flicked towards the refrigerator. No. There wasn’t anyone to duel. Not tonight, at least. Gem should be asleep, but knowing the Hermits, only Bdubs and Skizz were asleep at this hour. Joel knew that Grian and Mumbo had chronic insomnia and tended to stare at the ceiling in an attempt to fall asleep, but to no avail.

Leftover remnants from Season 8, Joel supposed.

The counter was very comfortable. Maybe he could just…

The bells on the door rang. Joel jolted up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Welcome!” he told the customer, continuing to blink rapidly to get used to the lights in his vision. “What can I get for you, dear customer?”

“I’ll get a drink,” the customer said.

Joel nodded. “On it.”

Joel made a drink, mixing together ingredients. He made his own favorite drink, because what else would he make, when someone so stupid didn’t even give him a specification on what they wanted?

Joel turned around, presenting the drink to the customer, and was mildly surprised to see his own face looking back at him. “Ah. Hello, Joel. Nice to see you here,” he said, setting the drink down on the counter.

Joel smiled at Joel. “I must say, it is hard to keep away from the best bar in town,” Joel said, grinning at Joel.

Joel shrugged. “It’s honest work. We use local recipes.” He took a glass from below the counter and started polishing the cup. “Do you need anything else? We have other drinks, we have crackers, we have chicken tenders—”

Joel raised his eyebrows. “Where did you get chicken tenders?”

Joel shrugged. “The land of magic. The chicken died. I chopped it up. Chicken tenders.”

Joel narrowed his eyes. “Impossible.”

Joel grinned, showing his teeth as he leaned intentionally against the counter. “Definitely possible.”

Joel rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. “Sure. Have you heard the news?” he asked, leaning in towards Joel.

Joel couldn’t help but lean in too. The tone of Joel’s voice was captivating. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been blummin’ stuck in this bar the entire day. There hasn’t been any interesting gossip.”

Joel took a sip of Joel’s drink, and damn, that was good. Oh yeah, he made it. Damn, he was a good bartender.

“Did you hear that Subscribe Button Joel started dating Bad Boy Joel?” Joel asked lowly.

Joel spat out his drink on Joel’s face. Joel made a face, wiping the drink off with a disgusted look. “WHAT?”

Joel nodded, still looking very disgruntled at the fact that Joel had just spat his own drink all over his face. And his shirt. Joel must admit, it was a nice shirt. Of course, he was wearing the same one right now, and his was better.

“Yeah. Jeremy walked in on them sleeping.” Joel waggled his eyebrows. Ah. So not sleeping. “Sleeping”, as they put it.

“Feel bad for Jeremy,” Joel muttered. “That must’ve been bad.”

“Yeah,” Joel said. He looked down at his shirt. “Why’d you have to ruin my shirt? This is my favorite shirt, Joel.”

Joel shrugged. “I mean. It was pretty ugly.”

Joel gave him a look. “Joel. Joel Smallishbeans. We have the same shirt. We’re currently wearing the same shirt. Do not diss my shirt when we have the same shirt.”

Joel shrugged, looking at Joel’s shirt where it was ruined by the drink. “I mean. Mine is better, y’know?”

Joel stared at Joel, fire in his eyes. Joel smirked arrogantly back at him.

Joel stood up. “Joel. My shirt was good, until you spat my drink all over it!”

Joel shrugged, looking up and down Joel’s shirt. “I mean, there’s a loose button there, and who knows what you’re hiding under the corset. Mine is better. Mine has always been better.”

“No it hasn’t,” Joel scoffed, stepping closer to the counter. “Look at your collar. It’s wrinkled. Have you seen mine? It’s perfectly pressed.” He went there. He went for the wrinkled collar? Who does he think Joel is? How much time does he think Joel had on his hands? Well, actually—

Joel spends a lot of his time in the bar rewatching the Barbie movie. He appreciates the cultural themes. He also watches Harry Potter, and he can feel a familiar presence near him quoting all the lines nearly perfectly along with the movies.

-- -- * -- --

that's the end they should've kissed I'm really upset but this is from June 9th so. almost an entire half a year old.

anyways. happy December :D