#i think i am ovulating

[lunareclipses-moments]

Doesn't it drive you nuts when you see a character and all of the sudden you lose your moral compass

That's me when geshulin

Likei am completely sane about him

Also me

[etfrin]

guys, i am so horny rn

[puck-luck]

You know I'm glad I have a Cole fic on the agenda (although it's like #8 out of the 12 I have left) bc I am thiiiiinkin about bro

[bohnerrific69]

(simping about some character, contains spoilers from arcane season 2)

guys i've seen vander as pre-warwick form and it's desperting smth on me... like HEAR ME OUT💀

i kinda want to write for him, the monster fucking is hitting me💀 wanting to write him like in a "happy" ending/romantic way😭

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

ovulation being a hell of a drug that ends up getting steddie together like

eddie and queen bee stevie harrington who have a weird kind of friendship where they share like. Everything. not a single secret between them. like eddie's got stevie's cycle pretty much memorised and she knows about every inappropriately timed boner he's ever had. and they're talking one day, smoking, shooting the shit, and there's a second of silence before stevie's like. oh my god. im so horny im gonna die. and eddie's like huh what. and stevie goes like there's a stain on your wall that's kind of shaped like a sperm and that made me think about cum and now im all bricked up. my vaginas haunted. fucking sperm shaped stain.

and eddie's like. wait girls- ok you know what im saying this in my head and im realising this sounds dumb but like. i thought girls didn't like. Get Like That. like i thought random horniness at a stiff breeze was a guy thing

and stevie snorts like nope girls get it too we just get to hide it bc we don't get boners. swear to god there's like a week of every month where i get fucking possessed or some shit. robin says it's like a period thing

but you're not on your period?

and stevie's like no it's like. the opposite of a period. like your period is your uterus being like hey you fucked up you're not pregnant but Horny Week is your uterus being like okay im ready let's get a baby in there time to get pregnant you know what to do. it's called like. oval. something. oval something. im all fertile and my body's trying to trick me, the fuckn prick.

and eddie just kinda goes huh and then there's another second of silence where he tries very hard not to think about stevie being pregnant. and then stevie throws her arms up with a frustrated sigh like god DAMN it now im thinking about being pregnant and eddie's internally like well at least it's not just me

and anyway another joint later this obviously devolves into stevie shoving eddie's hand down her pants and telling him please it'll be so quick he doesn't even have to do anything and she just ruts against his hand while he stares at her bc he's so high and the girl he's basically in love with just told him how fertile she was and then started rubbing her incredibly wet pussy against his hand and he feels like he might pass out

they do this and more about once a month for like a year until stevie does actually get pregnant. her stupid uterus successfully tricked her 😔✊

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Watching Levi play with your baby 😭 he would talk to them like an adult but with appropriate topics for a baby.

this man will TOTALLY info-dump about something completely nonchalant, and your child understands absolutely none of it, but enjoys the sound of their papa's voice

[lila-rae]

We are never gonna see it, rightfully so…. But I just know Tom is gonna look so hot leaving the hospital with a baby carrier one day.

[ovaryacted]

Javier Peña fucking his wife to the point of tears and filling her up so much his spend drips down her thighs and he keeps her in bed plugged up because he wants to get her pregnant.

[forsworned]

do you actually like him or are you just ovulating?

[slicznymartwy]

I’m not sure if your comfortable with it, but if it’s alright, can I request Billy Lenz and the reader (established relationship) having some sort of conversation on his past and the reader comforting him?

this one is rlly sad im sorry :(( this is mostly hc since i've only ever watched the original 1974 film, so idk if this lines up with the canon from the other movies. from what i know about it, i think it's similar. no mention of agnes in this warning: sa of a minor mention, please do not read if that bothers you. also, reader insert was abused/beaten by their mom. very sad take care of yourselves please

☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x gn!reader

Night fills your bedroom and coats itself on the floors and walls, except for where the yellow streetlamp spills in past your curtains. Sparing a glance to the alarm clock on your bedside table, you see the time is so late it could already be considered early. 

Still, you can’t think about sleep; not when Billy is laying beside you and the house is blissfully empty, two things so rare that it almost seems serendipitous. You’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you keep staring at the ceiling and let the warmth of his body radiate into yours.

“Billy,” you whisper into the quiet room. “Are you asleep?”

You can hear him grunt and squirm beside you, and you feel bad for waking him. It wasn’t often he got a full night’s rest on a bed, and you knew for a fact that there was no mattress in the attic. There were only so many chances to have Billy and the house all to yourself, though, and you don’t want to squander it.

“Billy,” you say again, nudging him with your foot.

He grunts again, but it sounds more cognisant than before. He reaches over himself to pat your arm, almost like he’s quieting down a noisy cat, and you can feel his hand trail down to your own. His palm covers the back of your hand, and he threads his fingers in between yours, curling them down together. 

It’s a gesture so sweet that you’re tempted to let him fall back asleep. There’s no helping your addiction to him, though, and you tighten your fingers on top of his.

“I’m not tired,” you say with a pout. “I wanna talk.”

This time, Billy groans, low and long. You think it might be out of annoyance, but you can feel him stretching out beside you, straightening his long legs underneath the covers. He huffs when he’s done, eyes blinking open.

You love his pretty eyes, an orangey amber that you were always getting lost in, no matter how unsettling they could be. It always felt like he was staring into you, like he could see the marrow in your bones.

You loved his intensity. It made you feel alive when the rest of the world was tired and grey.

“Hi,” you say, reaching over with you unoccupied hand to touch his jaw. “I didn’t ask before. How was your day?”

He’s quiet for a long time, and you wonder if he can fall asleep with his eyes open, but then he says, “Bad.” 

The word hangs in the air. Billy’s face gives up nothing, a blank page with no words of his own to say. You frown and pull your hand back from his face to rest on your own chest. The other stays in his hold, neither of you willing to let go.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, although it doesn’t surprise you when Billy shakes his head against your pillow.

“Okay.” You squeeze against his fingers again, pulling gently on his arm so that it rested more heavily on top of you. The bedroom air is quiet, but your mind continues to race. It’ll be good for him to get it off his chest, you tell yourself.

“Is it something old or something new?”

He thinks about your words for a while, but then you hear him mutter, “Old.”

“Bad memories?” you ask, looking back at him. He blinks at you, then nods.

“I get bad memories, too.” You lean against him slightly, and glance up at the ceiling. “From when you were a kid?”

This time, Billy shrugs. You know you shouldn’t push him, but your heart aches to see him hurt and to not have the rememdy.

You turn around and let go of him for only a moment. You search for his hand again, this time with the opposite one to press your hands together, palm to palm. Your fingers entwine so easily, so naturally, that it makes your heart ache.

Maybe he just needs to know he’s not alone in whatever bullshit he’s had to endure in his life. Maybe it will help to know that you have bad memories too.

“My mom used to hit me,” you admit quietly. You stare at the way your hands mesh together, with your nails polished and Billy’s own chewed up. “She used to take my stepdad’s belt and hit me with it. Used to just be the leather part, but then she would swing the buckle at me too. She broke a tooth, but it was just a baby one. My adult teeth grew in alright.”

You keep your voice casual as you speak, because facts are facts, and there’s no reason to get upset about something you can’t change anymore. Besides, you reminesce about your childhood so infrequently that it feels like it all happened to another person. 

You remember the beatings like you’re watching it happen to someone else – something else, because you don’t feel bad for them when they can’t sit at school because of the welts on their ass. You don’t bat an eye when their mom has to take them to the doctor to reset their broken nose.

“Bitch,” Billy spits out from beside you, and you have to laugh at the venom dripping in his voice.

“I don’t talk to her anymore,” you tell him, smiling sadly. You glance at him, but it’s hard to look at the mean look on his face. It probably isn’t for you, but your mind is traitorous and too sensitive.

Even worse, Billy could be mad on your behalf. No, you can’t think about that either, not when you’ve spent so long pretending that it didn’t really happen.

“Anyways. All that to say, I know what it’s like, having bad memories. You don’t have to tell me, just… I’m here for you,” you say, running your thumb along his hand where they’re still locked together.

“Want to,” he mutters, voice croaking unnaturally as he speaks in his own voice.

Quietly, you release his hand and instead wrap yourself around him, laying partially on top. He lets out a heavy sigh as you settle, with your arm coming up to rest by his head and your same-side leg resting over his hips. He watches the ceiling, and you watch his face from where you lay your ear to his chest

“Bad billy. Disgusting,” he mutters, and you pet his cheek with the back of your hand.

“I don’t think so.” You keep your voice careful and quiet, but he sighs and its agitated. Pent up memories start to overfill, and you can see it on his face.

“Mommy,” he starts, but his voice breaks and he coughs to clear his throat. “Mom. Fucking hate her. I hate her. Stupid fucking slut. She’s disgusting. Not me. Not Billy.”

You take your hand away from his face, watching how his expression continues to contort, mixing between anger and disgust and fear. It wrenches your heart in your chest.

“You’ve been so good, Billy. You’re not disgusting.”

“I hate her. I hate her,” he chants again. “Oh, Billy! Shut up!”

When he says his own name, it sounds like a feminine moan. You almost don’t understand, but the implication dawns on you only a moment later. It’s not difficult to piece it all together: his rage, the names he calls himself, the moan. You feel sick.

“Hey, we can stop,” you try gently, but Billy either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t want to stop.

“No one needs to know, Billy. Be a good boy.” You can’t look at his face anymore, the ugly way it scrunches up hurts you down to you core. Guilt claws at you from inside, and you wish you knew the right thing to say but you don’t. The truth, you decide, is enough for now.

“I hate her, too,” you tell him, and it sounds a little wet. You don’t let yourself cry, but your heart breaks for a younger Billy, afraid and confused. 

“That’s my mom,” he says. You don’t know what he’s trying to convey when he says that – if he wants you to pity her, or if he’s sharing his betrayal with you. He whines, a painfully soft noise that gets trapped in his throat.

Gently, carefully, you card your fingers through his hair where you can reach, and you kiss his shoulder.

“She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore,” you tell him, although you don’t know if it’s true. You do know that, as long as you’re by his side, there’s no way you’ll let that woman touch him again.

“I wish I could kill her,” he says through clenched teeth. His voice is thick, like he might be crying. You can’t bare to look. Billy’s grief melts into you like it’s thermodynamics, heat into cold, and you can only hope that you can take some of his and ease his mind.

“How would you do it?” you whisper, pressing your hand over his hammering chest.

“Cut… cut her head off. Smash it like a pumpkin. Oh, Billy! Good boy, Billy. Shut up!” His voice breaks when he shouts. He coughs, then gasps for air, his breath shaking as he fights against the tightenness in his throat. “I’ll turn her teeth into pumpkin seeds,” he snarls.

Without warning, you move yourself to lay completely on top of him, pressing against his body with your body weight. He groans, and you’re sure you must be squishing him, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, his arms come up around you, hooked under your arms and pressing you against him with his hands at your shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” you tell him, pressing your face against his neck. “You’re okay now. It’s just us in here. Just me and you.”

“I hate her,” he whimpers again. “I hate her. I hate her.”

You don’t say anything, because you don’t think there are any words that could possible take away his hurt without also being a complete lie. Underneath your body, you can feel Billy start to relax, grounded back to reality from the rotten memories playing in his head.

“I’m sorry today was a bad day. We can have a good one tomorrow,” you say. It’s an impossible thing to promise, but you mean it like one. You’ll make sure Billy has a good day, whether fate wants it or not.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll kill your mom too.”

“Thank you,” you say. You kiss his temple, and he leans into your lips.

© slicznymartwy 2023, please do not repost or copy.

a/n: reblogs and replies are really appreciated

[woership]

if i have to answer what the epitome of Sex is, i think it would easily be the one and only Nicholas D. Wolfwood. something about this man made my mind clutter in the Godliest way possible, made my brain rewire its nerves and my soul detached from my body— i would Gladly do a cigarette kiss with him, and i'd let him touch me in the most lewd way although his hands were Stained with blood. OH i'd be on my Knees if he wanted me to. God i could go on Forever with this man.

[marmeladednd]

being in your thirties is very funny cause it's like... it's very much normal now that I find this 40 year old man attractive. this is not a dilf, this is a hot man in my age range.

[nc-vb]

w-what is this milkman trend… WHY IS EVERYONE DRAWING A DOPPLEGANGER OF A MILKMAN SO HOT WHY DO YALL HAVE TO DO THIS TO ME AGAIN

[bunnyboy-juice]

help i think im ovulating 🥴

[hobimo]

anyway sorry for the 2 year hiatus from fic I was doing a masters degree. But I think I'll write furry fic sequel first bc I want to be funny. I am once again asking for anyone's funny headcanons about heat. What is the funniest thing someone in real life could say about heat. Other than ovulation jokes

[comfortless]

Bestieeeee~ do you know who the girth master is on twitter/OF?? his dick is how I imagine Konigs dick to look like + foreskin

i did not! and now that i do… my brain has short-circuited. just.

HOW.

fully agreeing with you here, beloved. it should match his height!! <3