#in whatever way you want to take that the answer is yes for all of it.

[from-the-owls-nest]

mhm. what if you're too broken, in too tiny pieces, even the base too shattered to rebuild from. what if there's too little good left.

*swallow* that... that probably wasn't the most helpful answer. but I know what you mean. and I don't really have a fix or anything.

*drily, like, ironically* should probably clarify that the you in that first sentence meant me and just me. so. before you get any more ideas. because of course for Me that's Different! At least for my chaos brain tangles.

[ooc: Philosophy Below. idk brain ran away with thoughts call me if u find it /silly]

*silence, thinking over the words again* I don't know. All I can hope is that - that sentence from the movie Aria likes. When we can see no future, all we can do is the next right thing. the next little ray of sunlight. the next little moment of peace.

And if none of that is possible... Wait, and hold on, and look for them, and hope they come back soon. This is just my thoughts - my little agreement with myself. I gotta try the best I can, even if the best I can is a break from trying to recover. And then I'll know that Past Me did their best for me now and that I owe it to Future me to do my best for what they might become. Even if they weren't very successful. Like deciding that however I am right now is me too, and so I am all these things and parts, the good and the rough ones, and they all together make the full me. It's these nice little shortcut across the self blaming and infighting that take a long time to work out but help wherever they hold.

But like. I think I owe it my future self to hold on, and to get through the storms. Our past selves have come such a long way, and who knows where we'll go next, what our future selves and lives might be like. So like. I do think that new paths open up all the time, possibilities. Even if the ones now are all bad, who knows where we can still go. And the only way to find out is to try, and to do our best.

*they pull out their diary, and from the front a little calendar page* Look. I... It's one of these pages I'll keep forever and ever because I need the reminder, and give to others when they might need it. I don't know if it's right. I hope so. and I think the only way to find out is to try and hold on.

For me that's enough. That, little hopes, little good moments, even just the memory of warmth and hope and the knowledge that all that was once can come again - in different forms, maybe, but it can. *turning to lay it next to Will's sneaker*

*more silence* But. Well. That's really big thoughts, and hard to see when everything is so dark. Hm. okay just to throw some thoughts out. You don't have to tell me, you don't have to think about it, just... some ideas. Little windows into that maybe, whenever you're able to look.

what do the voices say? can they maybe be talked to, or be both a little right?

is there anything you wish wouldn't stop? or come back? any little thing. ignore realism and context all that. if you were playing make-believe, your own little world, what would it look like? if you want to we can take turns. I play that game regularly cause, well, bad memory, and i probably should start again.

and... does it have to be a *bad* hurt? like. yes. you're different. stuff happened, and it changed you, and that really really hurt. you might not be the same person as before. is that a bad thing? or, you said nasty. sure. right now it's raw and painful and doesnt fit yet. but... could all these little shards grow back together and become something scarred and mended, and different?

I hope they could. I'd really miss you - not you from before, you however you are right now and however you want to be. Idk doesn't make much sense but - people if they change are still that person, right? just... changed, by a situation or because they got to know themselves better or whatever. Like Butterflies. I'd like to see the next chapter, with you if you want or just knowing there was one for you.

Image Credit @thelatestkate and her website

Love love love characters that present themselves as emotionally open social butterflies but the more you see of them the more obvious it is that they’re the most closed off fuckers in the story. Sure, they want to help you with your personal problems and messy emotions, but if you turn that shit back on them, they’ll shut down or deflect every time. Why are you sticking your nose in their business anyway? It’s not like it matters. They’re not a person, they’re just a role being played. They’re the guy who fixes things and saves people. Please ignore the man behind the mask, he’s fine. Everything’s fine.

[darqx]

Another BP/HH/Gen answer dump as usual starting with BP and then moving into the other two \o/

All demons age about the same rate as humans (although with earlier milestones as babies) UNTIL they hit their 30s-40s after which aging slows down drastically 🙂‍↕️

Izm chasing you down to get .D back like

🤔 You guys sometimes really make me think about things I don't often have to think about LOL. I'm just gonna do the gang this time so off the top of my head:

Izm and .D are often eating sushi in my drawings and since I'm pretty sure Izm is mainly the one buying, sushi is his fave. He'll eat any type but he prefers the raw fish ones.

Whilst .D also likes sushi, it's not his fave dish. His fave dish is pasta in a red sauce (like Sugo or Arrabiata) for some reason. Nostalgia maybe?

Zeke is a meat and potatoes kind of guy, so, a nice juicy sirloin with mushroom sauce and a side of roast potatoes and veggies. (BP!Zeke is similar but he really likes pork/bacon particularly, so a pork roast for him probably).

Wei Ren's comfort foods are chicken congee, and seafood steamboat/hot pot.

Marcus' fave is his mom's chicken casserole.

Oh I'm glad (and thank you very much)! I hope you get lots of inspiration and can create a lot of things :D

Hm, that's a good question! I think, for doodling purposes, my fave is Rire mainly because Rire always looks more or less completed in black and white. My other two faves are .D and Izm - .D is a good exercise in subtle expressions whereas Izm is the complete opposite (esp with BP!Izm with that mouth).

Yes. I mean, I'd prefer you be at least 15 for those two things only cos if i had to age rate them they could be considered M or MA15+.

Hullo! The short answer is that there are also "not normal" skin tones, it depends on the demon species :)

The rest of society is pretty standard so yes there are charlatans in the world of BP lol. HOWEVER, no one would pretend to be a BP for three distinct reasons:

You need to be sanctioned to be a BP (ie they have abilities that normal people do not, like being able to perform exorcisms.)

There is no profit to be had as BPs generally don't get paid (all their living expenses are generally covered by their religion's HQ).

It's dangerous work. You'd have better luck being a bank robber.

Desmond is def a club music kind of guy XD EDMs, techno, trance, hardstyle, house, whatever - the kind of stuff you jump energetically up and down to at a club/concert/rave, he'll listen to it.

Not yet for BP (soon...🙏🏻). HH wasn't really a comic series so much as a bunch of somewhat random one shots I did for fun lol.

^ you guys :d

I don't put my pronouns anywhere partly because it is lowkey amusing for me to see how people perceive me online. It doesn't really matter to me, so go with your best guess lol.

You would be surprised at how much time those two hobbies can take up outside of work |D; I also like doing puzzle games (like Quordle etc), coding, going for walks/bike riding, making slightly odd food combos in normal recipes and freaking out my friends on Discord with them, and watching horror/disaster films and playthroughs of horror games.

Maybe one day I would, but not at this particular time, sorry!

Thanks for asking as this is a bit of a grey type area! Personally, I think that as long as this is purely for your own use and you aren't going to on-sell it in any way...then it should be ok. I'm going to categorise something like this as somewhat similar to say...people printing out my art to stick to their wall type thing. Of course, if you ended up buying a bunch and then thought oh i have so many extra I'll sell them to whoever wants them - that would be a no no.

In what capacity lol if there's something I've learned from real life it's never agree or disagree to anything without knowing specifics. Eg if you would like to use my art as a PFP on tumblr then you can if you credit it, but if you want to use my art as a face claim for your own charac then i would have to say no, etc.

That makes two of us as i am not familiar with the twisted wonderland universe :P

.D: Diasomnia

Izm: Pomefiore

Wei Ren: Ignihyde

Zeke: Savanaclaw

Marcus: Diasomnia

I never really specified one so my friends and I have been calling it the fictional city of Hedone lol.

I haven't given up on HH, i just dont draw it nearly as much since i'm focussing on developing BP :) Anyway HH wasn't seriously planned to be a comic or anything (though technically...it does have a very loose storyline that I've alluded to in some drawings |D ) so it's something I can just jump back into and doodle whenever i feel like.

This was from a while back

It's pretty straightforward HH is a slice of life 'verse where my main characs are in an all boy's boarding school and Rire is the headmaster. It focuses on the boys shenanigans though so if you specifically like Rire you will be disappointed as he's barely in it.

I cut off this post cos I dont think the stuff in it should be shared with other random people even though anon is on anon. If this is you anon i hope you are doing well and i would genuinely encourage you to talk to someone about certain things (like a therapist maybe).

[roanniom]

There's Something About You

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, handjob, dirty talk, inexperienced!Eddie

If one thing is for certain, it's that Eddie has no idea how he's found himself here. In the bedroom of a cheerleader honor student goddess who shouldn't even know he exists. Yes, you've smiled at him from a distance in class. From time to time he's caught you giving him a little wave from across the cafeteria. But to be quite honest with himself, Eddie always assumed you were fucking with him. Throw a wink at the school freak and watch him get an embarrassingly unprovoked boner.

Yet here you were. Sitting next to him on your bed - disarmingly pink and covered in soft cushions and frills and all things girly and diametrically opposed to all that is Eddie Munson. Dark and crass and bumbling and weird Eddie Munson.

"If you flunk out of Mr. Flout's class one more time, what's going to happen to you?" you had asked him casually earlier in the day as you'd walked by him staring at his test marked with a big red F. Eddie had looked up at you, shock quickly melting into an indifferent smirk.

"There's always trade school, baby," he'd shrugged and thrown up a peace sign.

That was when you suggested he come by your place that evening for tutoring.

Eddie is no fool. He knows what girls like you want. So he'd made sure to come equipped with his trusty lunch pail full of treats that would take the edge off being Miss Perfect / Daddy's Little Girl / Goody Two Shoes - whatever mantle it was that you wished to pluck off your head and cast gently aside for one blissful night. He assumed maybe a downer, maybe an upper, maybe a combo of both. He didn't know you well enough to assume. You seemed happy enough when skipping down the halls with your gaggle of friends, but maybe there was a secret side of you that wanted to disappear. You seemed focused when you were working on papers or quizzes in your shared classes with Eddie, but maybe you needed something that would give you that much more of an edge. Something to help you lock in.

Or maybe you just wanted to be able to turn your brain off for a bit. Eddie knew what that was like.

Sitting in your room now, however, Eddie was less sure. You hadn't closed the door behind him and immediately asked to check out the merchandise. You hadn't proffered up cash in an attempt to speed along a transaction. Instead you'd sat him down with a textbook and a notepad and actually started studying. It was weird. Eddie wasn't used to this kind of drug dealer foreplay. He assumed you were just nervous, though, so after a while, he decided he would have to be the one to make the first move.

"What's your poison, princess?" he asks, after a few moments of silence has settled between the two of you. You look up from your own book and furrow your brow. When you don't speak, Eddie continues. "Upon which journey of medicated oblivion do you wish to depart?"

That doesn't seem to make it any clearer for you.

"Huh?" you ask. The way your nose wrinkles in your confusion is kind of cute, but Eddie does his best to ignore it.

"Drugs. What drugs did you ask me here to sell you?" He speaks plainly because apparently you aren't ready for euphemism. Wow, you must be really new to this space.

Surprise ripples across your face, followed by immediate amusement.

"I didn't ask you here for any drugs. But you're welcome to partake if you like, of course." You gesture to his pail, proving you had known what was inside all along. Eddie shakes his head.

"I don't sample the goods, sweetie. I just sell 'em."

You snort in response, a decidedly unladylike reaction.

"You and I both know that's bullshit, Munson. I've seen you in class. Nine times out of ten you're high as a kite."

Eddie smirks and runs a sheepish hand through his hair. Oh you'd seen him, huh? You were looking?

"Guilty as charged. Then what did you ask me here for?"

"To study," you answer simply. The look on your face, however, implies that isn't all there is to it.

"And...?" Eddie presses. Your smile grows wider and you close your book. You shift on the bed beside him in a way that shifts your skirt, baring your thigh. Eddie's eyes go straight to that exposed swath of skin, right on cue.

"And...if we fool around a bit, that's a nice bonus." You say it as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Obviously that's an additional thing that would happen on a study night like this. As obvious as a round of flash cards or a homemaker mother coming in with a tray of cookies and juice.

Which reminds him...

"Aren't your parents around?" Eddie asks. He adds a lilt of humor to his voice, though he means the question seriously.

"They're in Indianapolis for the night. I'm here all by my lonesome," you say with a faux coquettishness that causes an ache to begin forming in his throat. "You're here to keep me company."

All of a sudden the closed door to your room emanates with a kind of vibrating anticipation. A rushing begins in Eddie's ears, followed by a high pitched ring. Is he going to pass out?

You take the book from his lap and place it on the floor.

"So what's your poison, Eddie Munson?" you ask.

This is it. Eddie is actually short circuiting. He swallows but the sound resonates as a cartoon gulp.

"We don't have to...that's...we don't need..."

You place a hand on his shoulder and it just about burns through the fabric of his shirt.

"I know we don't need to do anything. What do you want?"

Eddie hesitates, but you read it as him not wanting to push, so you take matters into your own hands. Literally.

'Wait, what are you - oh fuck." Eddie's eyes blow wide as you sink to the floor in front of him, kneeling between his legs with one hand on his thigh and one hand on his crotch.

"I'm narrowing down the options for you, Munson," you say with a grin. "Helping you make a decision. I know it was hard to decide what you wanted. Really hard, it seems." You put more emphasis on your innuendo as you begin to stroke him through his jeans. You're right. He's hard. Just from this fucking teasing conversation he is hard as a rock. His cheeks and ears burn with humiliation. 

“That’s…fucking…”

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s fucking. But maybe a version of it,” you chuckle. Before he even understands what’s happening, you’re unbuttoning his jeans and lowering the zipper. If he hadn’t been wearing relatively constrictive boxer briefs he knows he would have all but sprung out the moment you freed him from the denim. You cup him through the fabric of his underwear and slide your hand up and down. “Now what have you been hiding from me, hm?”

Eddie can’t speak. He truly can’t form words. This can’t be happening right now. The amount of times he’d fucked his fist to the thought of you…this was absolutely absurd. He must have smoked too much weed and slipped into a catatonic state, trapped in his own erotic fantasies because what the actual fuck. 

Eddie’s continued lack of response does start to unnerve you, though. You slow your hand on his clothed cock and look up at him, trying to keep humor in your voice. 

“What’s going on? You’re acting like you’ve never had a girl on her knees before.”

“Um…”

“Stop messing with me,” you snort. But when Eddie continues frowning, you drop your hand from his lap. “You mean to tell me…”

“You can get up for this conversation,” Eddie says quietly, reaching out a hand. He doesn’t like the juxtaposition of the power dynamics. You on your knees in front of him. A situation that should objectively make him feel powerful, and yet all he feels right now is small. You take his proffered hand and allow him to pull you up to your feet. When you take a silent seat beside him on the bed, Eddie knows he’s going to have to explain. 

“So…yeah. I’ve never ‘had a girl on her knees’ before.” You nod understandingly, but Eddie knows you can’t possibly fully understand yet. “I’ve never ‘had’ a girl…period.”

A beat passes.

Another beat. 

Eddie had been staring down at the leather bracelets encircling his wrists, fiddling with the frayed edges. But at the continued silence he looks up to find you watching him, eyes wide with comprehension. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, I wouldn’t have pressured you -,”

“No!” Eddie says a little too emphatically, making you jump. He grabs your hands to keep you next to him. “You didn’t pressure me at all. I want…this. I want…you. I just…”

“You just…?” you prompt, dipping your head down to force him to meet your eye despite his dropped chin. 

“I just don’t know what I’m fucking doing here, babe,” Eddie forces out with a humorless chuckle. You bite your lip to keep from laughing along. 

This is uncharted territory for you. Yes you’re experienced, but you’d really only ever been with guys who had way more experience than you. It was kind of where your forced confidence and teasing personality came from - a little bit of a fake it till you make it mentality. It usually kept guys from bowling you over or taking too much if they got the sense that you knew what you were doing. That you knew what you wanted. 

This is a completely different situation. You look at the shaggy-haired metal head in front of you and your heart throbs. Before this evening you’d seen him as a fun little roll in the hay. A cheeky little ‘fuck you’ to your overbearing parents and to the pristine nature of your wholesome image. Eddie was brazen at school. A loud-mouthed, swaggering, innuendo-spewing class clown with a guitar and a million things to say. You’d thought he’d be a decent ride, if nothing else. But now you see him, uncertain and shrinking into your bed, and you realize that you don’t know him at all. And based on the way he’s looking at you with fear and shame, he clearly doesn’t know you either. 

“That doesn’t matter to me, you know. Especially since I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, that I can tell, sweetheart.” Eddie’s laugh is genuine this time. He adjusts himself at the crotch, an action that calls your attention to the bulge still protruding in his boxers through his open jeans. He’s still hard. In spite of all the embarrassment and discomfort. Eddie Munson must really want you. 

Well good. Because you’ve decided that in spite of everything, you really want Eddie Munson.

When you reach down and push aside his hand, Eddie recoils only for a second. Your hand closes around his cock and he melts into the touch. 

“Jesusfuckingchrist,” he exhales. 

“That feel good?” you ask. 

“That better be rhetorical. Because this feels better than anything I’ve ever felt in the goddamn world.”

“That’s an exaggeration, Eddie,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

“No, it reeeeally fucking isn’t.”

“Well then you’re gonna explode when I do this.” Before Eddie can even realize what’s happening, you’ve peeled down his underwear, exposing his cock to the cool air of your bedroom. Your hand wraps around his length, feeling the velvety skin over his throbbing hardness and Eddie all but yelps. 

“Holy FUCK.”

“Yeah?”

“Ok now that is better than anything I’ve ever felt.”

You lick your hand and bring it back down to glide more easily along his shaft. You watch Eddie shudder.

“You do realize it will only escalate from here. You can’t keep saying that.” 

Eddie grips at the denim on his own thigh and grits his teeth. Your hand has begun to pick up speed. 

“Little newsflash for you, babe. I’m not exactly in control of the words coming out of my - GAH.” 

You smooth your thumb over the mushroom head of his cock, pleased by the wetness gathering at the tip. 

“You touch yourself, don’t you Munson? This can’t be so revolutionary.” You’re teasing him but you love how responsive he is. Love the way he looks at you like you’re made of shining gold. 

“My hands don’t feel anything like this and you know it.”

You lift one of his hands with your free hand and smooth your fingers over his skin. 

“Yeah. These calluses from guitar?” 

He can’t believe you’re speaking so casually while still continuing to jerk him off into oblivion. He’s the one being stimulated, sure, but how can you remain unphased when it feels like all of the heat in the universe is being concentrated in this room right now. Surely he can’t be the only one whose every molecule is on fire. 

When Eddie doesn’t respond to your callus question, you decide to take escalation into your own hands. Or rather…Eddie’s. 

When you place his hand on your breast, it has the exact effect you think it will have. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and his jaw drops to the floor. 

“Uhhh….” 

Dumbstruck. 

You decide that’s how you like him. 

“You gonna just sit there?” you ask playfully, dropping your hand and marveling at the fact that Eddie’s remains light and motionless when you left it. 

“What…can…how…?”

“Play with them,” you reply with a little shrug. When Eddie hesitates, you nudge him to move back up the bed. Once his back is up against your pillows, you straddle his thighs - just before his knees - and immediately get back to work on his cock. 

This time Eddie reaches for both of your breasts, and this time his grip is a little more firm. He begins to squeeze and release. When he finally gets adventurous enough to lightly twist your nipple through the fabric of your top and your unpadded bra you reward him with a moan. 

“So that…felt good?” Eddie asks hopefully. 

“You watch porn, Eddie. What do you think?” 

“I think I want to take these puppies out, let them breathe.” Eddie looks up at you with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen, clearly finally feeling more comfortable. 

“Ah, there’s the little shit I know and love,” you laugh. Your words send a zing through Eddie’s bloodstream but he suppresses it. There are more pressing matters at hand. Like the way your blouse simply falls away after he unbuttons it. And the way your breasts sit up in your bra - plump and ready for him to have his way with them. 

And so he does. 

When Eddie’s hands engulf your breast this time, their grip is definitive. You inhale sharply with the strength of his squeeze. Finally some stimulation. 

“It does feel good,” Eddie smirks. Your pleasure must be clear on your face. 

“Don’t get cocky,” you try to admonish him. It’s time to up the ante, so you wrap one hand around the base of his cock and begin moving your other hand faster up and down. 

“Holy shit.”

“There we go,” you say, satisfied. You’ve enjoyed being in control. This is such a rare luxury for you and you’ve decided you like it. The wet warmth blooming between your thighs definitely indicates that. 

“Hey…slow down…”

“Too much?” you ask, immediately slowing your motions, worried you’d pushed him too far. Eddie’s hands grip your breasts, almost as if to ground himself. 

“No it’s fucking amazing I’m just…I’m gonna cum - oh!” 

You immediately pick up the pace right back to what it had been a second ago. 

“That’s the idea, handsome.”

Eddie is lost in a flurry of sensation. Nobody has ever called him handsome before. But nobody has ever jerked him off before either, so maybe that’s not the most pressing thing for him to ruminate on. There you sit straddling his thighs with your hands moving on his cock, your breasts bouncing in his hands. He feels like he’s going to pass out if you don’t stop immediately. 

“Take off your shirt.”

“Huh?” Eddie asks, squinting up at you. Your words make no sense in the haze of his pleasure. 

“Take off your shirt,” you repeat, relatively urgently. He does as he’s told, ripping his shirt off by the back of the collar. When the fabric pulls up and over his face, he is greeted by the sight of you now without your bra. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

You spit in your palm and begin stroking him again in earnest. With both of your hands focused on his length, your arms push your breasts together. Eddie moans on the verge of agony. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“This your first set of tits, Munson?” you ask, amused. This language is much more crass than you’d usually use, but there is something about Eddie - his lack of experience or maybe his unabashed enjoyment - that makes you feel comfortable speaking this way. 

“The first set that I can actually physically touch, yeah,” Eddie replies with full honesty and roguish smile. He surprises you by getting a big handful and pushing them together. His thumbs play with your exposed nipples and your hips begin to move against him. 

“You’re so turned on right now, aren’t you,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. His eyes squeeze shut against the divine pleasure of knowing that you’re rocking against him just as much as he’s rocking into your hands. 

It’s a glimmer of the dirty talk you might eventually be able to get from him. You like it. Like the teasing quality and the way it matches up to the way you’ve been addressing him. It does things to you and you know it would balloon his ego to know that you’re soaking through your panties right now. 

So you say the one thing that you know will throw him over the edge. 

“I want you, Eddie Munson. I want you inside of me.” 

The sputtering of words catching in his throat matches the way his hips stutter, cum spurting up and over your fists. It splashes hot and wet against his abdomen, which you had thankfully had the foresight to make him bare. Eddie lets out a guttural, shuddering groan. 

“Are you…fuck…jesus…are you fucking kidding me?” His hands fly off your breasts to cover his face. “God DAMN it.” 

Surprised by the sudden tone switch, you lift your wet hands from his leaking cock. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s….that was…I didn’t get to…” Eddie sounds confused and frustrated and breathless all at once. When he drops his hands from his face he looks up at you with a crumpled expression. “What about you?”

You have to bite your cheek to keep in the laugh that you know would hurt his feelings. 

“You just had your first handjob and you’re worried about me?” 

Eddie furrows his brow. 

“Well yeah. I want you to cum.” 

You shrug and gently dismount him. Reaching for your bedside table you grab a couple tissues, one which you hand over to Eddie. 

“That’s a hit or miss kind of thing, so don’t even worry about it.” 

Eddie wipes gingerly at the cum on his stomach and around the base of his flagging cock. 

“You mean…you don’t always cum?”

“Not always. But that’s normal.” You glide around your room, picking up your discarded clothes and dropping them neatly in your laundry basket. You open the top drawer of your dresser and pull out a gauzy white nightgown that, when pulled on, floats just to the upper middle of your thighs. You drop your skirt off your hips, leaving you in just a pair of panties beneath the delicate fabric. 

Eddie watches from his seat on your bed, still bedraggled from your shared sex act, shirtless with his jeans and boxers pulled down and his member now resting on his belly. It twitches with interest, however, at the sight of your nipples peaked through your nightgown. 

“I…I’d like to help you with that.”

Your face, and heart, soften at the earnestness in his voice. This poor, sweet, inexperienced weirdo in your bed wants to help you cum. Something that countless jocks and hot guys never even gave a passing thought to. Eddie stumbles to his feet and pulls up his boxer briefs and jeans. 

You climb back onto your bed into the space he’s now vacated. 

“Yeah? You want to help me cum, Munson?” You tease him as you lay against the pillows, one hand on your breast while you plant one foot on the mattress to bring your knee up. Your nightgown just barely covers your center, meaning Eddie can see a small swatch of your panties. Light pink. He feels his jeans tighten immediately. 

“I do.” He’s eager. It’s adorable. Eddie places a knee on the edge of your bed, mesmerized by the way your hands move over your body. 

“We’ll get to that,” you say quietly. Your voice breathy and inviting. 

“We will?” 

“Want to know the first step?” you ask. Eddie nods emphatically, eyes still trained on your hands, one of which has migrated to the apex of your thighs. 

“You’re gonna go home -,” You’re interrupted by a disagreeable harumph from Eddie. You smile. “You’re gonna go home and I’m going to touch myself to the thought of your cock.”

You can physically see the way the wind is knocked out of him. 

“Okay?” you prompt when he doesn’t reply. Eddie shifts restlessly. 

“Or I could help you now.” 

“No,” you disagree firmly. “We’ll build up to that.”

Eddie frowns. You know he’s disappointed, but you can feel your heart rate increase as you swirl your fingertip over your clit through your panties. Orgasms are hard for you to come by - pun intended - so you felt the urge to chase this one without additional variables. 

“Next time,” you add, hoping Eddie can see the promise in your face. He watches you silently for another moment, committing the image of you laid out and touching yourself to memory, before he nods and takes his knee off the bed. 

“Next time.” 

When Eddie leaves a few minutes later, the sound of his noisy van shuddering to life and peeling out beyond your window, you finally indulge yourself in the feeling you’ve been waiting for all night. 

You enjoy sex, sure. It wasn’t something that you had given much thought to. You’re pretty in a small town. You’re a cheerleader. It came with the territory that you were an object of lust and desire. Other young men enjoyed getting you naked and emptying themselves of their pent up hormonal tension. You found pleasure in the weight of their bodies and the knowledge that you were wanted. But there had never been much more to it than that. They rarely focused on pleasuring you beyond a tepid rub at the general vicinity of your clit. Their cocks sometimes rubbed a long neglected place deep inside of you, but the friction was always short lived. The occasional orgasm was always welcome but always fleeting. Even in the privacy of your own bed you found that they were often more work than they were worth. 

But tonight, you’d had a different experience. The man was beneath you, not on top of you. You had helped him reach a peak he’d never known before. And he’d looked at you like you were a goddess. 

When your fingers delve deep inside of you, you’re barely able to reach the place that aches with the promise of deeper pleasure. But for once, you have the feeling that somebody might be able to get you there.

When you cum from vigorously pressing on your clit, you cum with the vision of Eddie Munson in your mind’s eye. 

Next time, you think as you ascend. Next time. 

~*~ 

-

--

---

I really hope you enjoyed this. PLEASE tell me if you did and what you liked about it. I want to see if it is worth doing a part 2 <3

[fraudulent-cheese]

You know, funny you bring that up, i actually kinda went on a rant/analysis about this in discord the other day... More centered on the kids themselves than their parents but yes, i'd argue the parents of the kids post gen 1 are at best a little neglectful or too hands off, and at worst just do not care about their child's safety whatsoever.

To get a concrete answer answer on this however, we kinda need to know exactly how the more dangerous and absurd aspects of Total Drama were considered in canon. Like. was the ending scene of world tour actually aired in canon? were all the scenes in mike's head only there for our convenience or did they actually convince this italian boy to dress up as his alters and reenact their discussions? Do the people in universe think the more dramatic scenes or harsher injuries were exaggerated for the cameras, or is the promise of a million dollars enough to sway concerns? (because let's be real here: a million dollars is a fuck ton of money. i calculated for fun what money Cameron would actually be giving in his ending and if every camper takes him up on his offer they get around 77 grand. which is crazy)

If we're talking specifically Gen 1 parents, basically every parent except Sierra's and Alejandro's gets a pass for letting their kid on TD, since it's kinda plot relevant that they were duped into thinking it would be on a luxury hotel and not. crappy summer camp except there's a middle aged guy torturing you for clout. (if you want i'll drop what i said about Ale and Sierra's parents in a seperate reblog because i had. alot to say.)

HOWEVER. I cannot give this pass to the Gens 2, 3 and (maybe) 4 contestants or their parents. Outside of the ones that didn't know (Damien, maybe Dave, unknown if Anne Maria or Ella watched more than just a couple episodes since they only talk about the singing), they really watched the "get thrown out of planes" season or god forbid the "toxic waste" season and decided "yep, auditionning this show is a great idea, actually".

Yes, it was the most popular reality show in universe at some point, but REALLY? Are you sure this is a good idea? ZOEY ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA YOU SAW THE VOLCANO FINALE

This goes double for the Pahkitew Island cast, btw. based on their audition tapes + Leonard's stated age in Ridonculous Race, they had to have had sent their tapes close enough in time to the actual filming of the season itself. Which means this was after Revenge. Like at that point auditionning for TD would only be something you'd do if you either:

desperately needed to be away from your family/get that mil

considered the more outlandish happenings to be staged in some way

have the ultimate "Nah i'd win" mindset and just think the bad shit won't happen to you because yes

In any case, their parents HAD to have let them be on the show. How. Especially for the Roti cast's parents, actually (i hc that TD's ratings started dropping after World Tour but this isn't confirmed in canon) because as established, this shit was POPULAR popular. They at least had to have heard about it, and i wouldn't understand why you wouldn't at least double check to see if the show wouldn't make your kid get life long consequences from it. Then again, maybe im overestimating what regular people know about Reality TV and all of it's possible consequences on their contestants or whatever.

So yeah. Gen 2 and Gen 3 parents are not off the hook whatsoever on this... but im not sure about Gen 4.

Listen. Listen. Hear me out. I don't know how much the reboot cast knew about the show. Idk how much teenagers care about 10+ year old reality shows, no matter how popular they got outside of youtube videos talking about the more negative sides or keeping up with the former contestants. or something. I sincerely doubt the show wouldn't have developped an Action Park-like reputation, but... people still went to Action Park when it was open. Even after people fucking died. Maybe it morphed into daring your friends to submit an audition or hoping you could get major clout out of it?

But im still giving Gen 4's parents the major side-eye. They were VERY MUCH alive and aware of the show while it was airing, Priya's parents are proof of this.

On one hand, the most recent related season to TD in canon was most likely Ridonculous Race, and from what i know it got less extreme than TD? In terms of injuries? Like the worst that happends is a broken arm and a concussion i believe. Trends get forgotten quickly. Maybe they promised it would be safer somewhere in the contract??

On the other... They were alive during the time TD presumably aired in canon. They had to have heard about some things, right? Unless Chris burried the intern deaths, the injuries, the everything, (or it was covered up as staged/it was actually staged) shit had to have come out eventually right? RIGHT??? Did no one do any double checking? Granted some of the reboot parents already seem neglectful in canon (Ripper, Chase, Scary Girl, Julia even come to mind), but... Did Damien's parents not ask about it at all? Did neither Raj or Wayne's parents double check what their kids would be doing for summer? Do their parents even know they're going on Total Drama at this point???

uh, TLDR: Something is up with the Gens 2 and up parents, but i'd argue there's something up with the contestants themselves as well.

when u think abt it a lot of td parents are shitty like lightnings dad wouldnt even pay attention to him, duncan’s dad questioned if they really loved him, heather’s parents were celebrating she was gone, sierra’s mom is neglectful of her to the point she puts her idols before her own daughter, trent’s dad doesn’t support him being into music, cody’s parents forget his bday, courtney’s parents have pushed her so hard to succeed she feels inadequate when being anything but successful.i’m p sure u got good td parents like dj’s and cameron’s moms, but like….jesus christ dude

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

um- can we have shadow with a reader who gets chronic headaches- theg didnt tell shadow until they got one bad enough to cause tears because they are so used to headaches at that point- and shadow is a gentle fluffy bot there to help

“I’m Always Here to Help”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: You always wound up with chronic headaches on the worst of days. Luckily you had your partner to help you out this time.

Notes: More fluff, more fluff, more fluff! I hope you enjoy, anon!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

(TW for swearing, but only for one bit of dialogue.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Blinking your eyes open, you take in your surroundings, groaning a bit as you rub your forehead with your pointer finger and thumb.

You woke up with one of your chronic headaches.

Great.

The room around you is a bit dark, but there’s sunlight peeking through your curtain.

…Unfortunately right onto your face.

You put your arm over your eyes, letting off a sigh.

It’s fine, you’ve dealt with your headaches before.

You sit up from your bed, uncovering your face, and trudge off of the bed with a small yawn.

You head out of your room, entering the kitchen, seeing your partner, Shadow, making breakfast. From what it smells like, he’s making bacon and eggs.

“Morning, [Name],” Shadow says. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did,” you mutter. “You?”

“It was decent,” Shadow replies. “Sleeping beside you always makes it better.”

You let off a smile at that.

“Could you put four pieces of bread in the toaster?” Shadow asks.

“Sure thing,” you say.

You open the bread and pop the four pieces into the toaster, pushing the button down.

…Only for it to come back up.

Confused, you look at the dial, and surely enough, it’s at its usual spot.

You then check if it’s plugged in, which it’s not.

You plug it in and push the button down again, and it works this time.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief. You didn’t want to have to buy a new toaster.

After about a minute, the toast is done, and you butter each piece, placing two each on a plate just as Shadow finishes the food.

The two of you eat your breakfast, chatting about whatever, and after eating, Shadow quickly does the dishes, and the two of you head off to the couch to watch something.

…Only for Shadow to get a call on his communicator.

Grumbling, Shadow answers the call.

“What do you-”

“Shads! Sorry for the sudden call, but we could really use some backup!” the voice of Sonic says.

“And you couldn’t call any of your friends?” Shadow asks.

“Yeahh, about that- They’re all already here,” Sonic says. “You’re the last one I could call.”

Shadow lets out a sigh.

“On my way,” Shadow says, ending the call. “I’ll be back.”

“Stay safe, okay?” you request.

Shadow nods before Chaos Controlling away.

You let off a sigh of your own. You would’ve hoped hanging out with your partner would get rid of your headache, but now that was cancelled.

So you have to find some other way to get rid of your headache. So be it.

You start off by drinking some water and taking two pain relievers, which unfortunately will take a while to kick in, so now you need to pass the time.

Maybe…you could go on a run? No, your headache would get worse from that.

You could…clean the house? No, Shadow does that during his spare time.

May…be…baking?

Yes! Baking would be great!

Baking isn’t stressful, surely?

Besides, you can make something nice for you and Shadow to enjoy!

Getting out the ingredients to make a chocolate cake, you get to work.

Eggs, baking powder, flour, sugar-

Oops.

A bit too much sugar.

That’s okay, you can deal with that much.

A bit of vanilla extract, chocolate, and…

Okay! All mixed!

Pouring the mixture into a baking pan, you set it in the oven and let it bake for the required time while you make the frosting.

You put on your oven mitts to take the cake out, and-

…Wait, why does it smell like something’s burning?!

You quickly open the oven, and black smoke comes out of it, causing you to cough, backing away from the smoke while waving the smoke away from your eyes.

Once the smoke subsides you fall to your knees.

The tears from not only the pain of your headache, but from losing the cake you worked hard on, start pouring out of your eyes, and you choke out a sob.

You feel a pair of arms quickly wrap around you, and you turn around almost as fast, burying your head into your partner’s chest as you let the tears fall.

“Shhh, I’m here,” Shadow says. “Let it out. I’m not going anywhere.”

He holds you in his arms until you stop crying, and you let out a sad sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shadow asks.

“I…yeah,” you mutter. “I just…of course the day I want to do something nice for us is when I have a chronic headache…”

Shadow kisses your forehead before putting his hand on your cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, sunshine,” Shadow says.

“Eh, it’s not your fault…The pain medicine finally decided to kick in, anyway, so it’s not as bad,” you tell him, leaning into his touch. “How did the fight go?”

“Kicked Eggman’s ass,” Shadow says nonchalantly. “Also got to see the Faker get his shit wrecked, so that was funny.”

You let out a chuckle at the mental image of this.

Even though you two had vastly different days, at least you could always come home to each other to make each other’s day.

[artstennisracket]

you’ve heard of patrick milking art, now get ready for TASHI milking art

alternatively tashi AND patrick milking art

yk what anon? I like the way you think 😎 here you gooooo, not proof read at all btw (shocker)

cw: nsfw(18+), masturbation, overstimulation

Tashi and Patrick had been scheming about this for a while. Ever since they made Art cum twice one time, they really wanted to push the boundaries and see how far they could go. They know Art would let them do whatever they want so why not use it to their advantage.

He just gets so overstimulated so easily it’s really cute. He gets all whiny and touchy and cry-e (that’s not a word ik) and honestly a little brainless. So this time they went in with a game plan but didn’t let Art know until the last second.

Tashi was sat in the chair in the corner of their bedroom. She has on a white silk dress shirt with the top few buttons undone displaying her black lacy bra. She also had black lacy panties to match.

Over on their bed, Art had each wrist tied to a bed post with a shiny silk wrap. He was starting against the restraints as Patrick was rimming him shamelessly. Letting his tongue wander without a cause. He loved rimming Art because of how response Art would get. Moaning and whining, squirming like he wants to get away yet pushing back against the pressure for more relief.

Art had cum once already, the mess splattered across his chest and tummy but he was already hard again. Leaking onto his own abs, adding to the previous mess.

“please can you touch me? I need—” Art starts whining until he’s cut off by Tashi.

“did i say you could speak?” She asks making eye contact directly with Art. Her eyes are squinted with a hardness too them, but Art knows her well enough that he can see the brief moment of softness that flashes through.

He shakes his head no. He didn’t mean to speak out of turn but he was starting feel insufferable. He needs release. His body was starting to buck into the air haphazardly against nothing, dying for some sort of friction.

Patrick pulls away, a string of spit between him and Art’s hole. Maybe he got a little too sloppy. He turns to Tashi, “c’mon tash, look at him,” He turns back towards Art, tracing his pointer finger up the length of Art’s cock before circling the tip lightly. Pre-cum gushes out from Art’s tip just before Patrick pulls away, “he’s already all worked up, poor baby,” Even though there was sympathy in his voice, Patrick couldn’t help but wear his signature smirk. He liked seeing Art all worked up like this.

“well let’s ask him then,” She stands up from her chair unbuttoning the rest of the buttons on her shirt before taking it off. She’s left in her bra and panties and Art feels like he could cum just from looking at her.

She walks over and kneels by the front of the bed where Art’s head lies. She strokes his hair softly before moving to cup his cheek in her hand, “do you want to keep going or is this too much for you? we can end this all right here, i can untie you, you can jerk off, and then you can watch Patrick fuck me. and you won’t get to touch yourself again for the rest of the night. is that what you want?”

Art shakes his head no again. She moves her hand to pull in the hair at the nape of neck, “i asked you a fucking question, i expect an answer.”

Art whines at the sharp pull, more pre-cum leaking out of his tip. “no— no t-that’s not what i want, i wanna— wanna keep going please.”

She smiles a devilish smile, “i was hoping you’d say that. now i’m gonna ride you and you can’t cum until i say so got it? or else i won’t let Patrick fuck you afterwards.”

Art nods, “mmm fuck okay yes, wont cum until you say.”

She keeps the smile on her face, “good boy.” She swings her hips over Art’s lap before pulling her panties to the side. She was already dripping wet at this point, watching Patrick get Art in the state he’s in. She takes hold of Art’s cock making sure to rub the tip against her opening, mixing his pre-cum with her juices.

Art whimpers again, he’s trying really hard to not focus on the feeling too much, afraid he’s going to cum before he’s told.

Shortly after Tashi sinks down until Art’s fully settled inside her. She moans feeling his tip push into her g-spot. She makes quick movements going up and down, grinding back and forth as Art throws his head back against the headboard.

Patrick is rapidly jerking himself off to the scene in front of him which he tries to take a mental video of to save for later.

“fuck baby, you’re doing so well. letting me fuck myself on your cock. your such a good toy.” She moans leaning forward to rest her hands on his shoulders to balance herself.

Art whines fucking up into her. He can’t even control himself at this point, “yes fuck yes yes yes fuck”

She leans down to whisper into his ear, “you’ve been such a good boy for me, now you can cum.” Tashi didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Art is spilling into her. Usually he’d be grabbing her hips and holding her down to make sure he gets every last drop inside of her. But with these restraints he has to settle for not being able to touch her.

Tashi slips off carefully trying to keep everything inside her as moves to lay at the foot of bed, making sure Art can see her. “now you’ve earned yourself a little break, so you can watch as Patrick cleans up the mess you made hm.”

Patrick does not have to be told twice, almost like there was a magnetic pull, he finds himself in between Tashi thighs. They’ve experimented with cum related kinks before but it was the first time they’ve done something like this, but it was a huge turn on for Patrick.

He’s going at it, licking and sucking. Trying to clean Tashi up as best he could. He curls his tongue inside of her getting every last drop. Even after that’s done he keeps going. Eating her out, suckling and licking her clit until her legs start to close up and tense. “holy fuck patrick, don’t stop don’t stop, just like that shit.” Shortly after she’s cumming on Patrick’s tongue. Patrick doesn’t take too long to clean up that mess either.

He pulls away, crawling up Tashi’s body to meet her with messy makeout session. His face, mostly his chin and his beard, are soaked with a mix of Tashi and Art. He almost came while eating her out but he wanted to save his orgasm for what he knew was coming next.

Tashi grabs the back of Patrick’s hair to break the kiss, “now you get to fuck him,” She turns to Art who is already hard again from watching the scene that just unfolded, “and you get to cum whenever you want for being a good boy okay?”

Art nods. He thinks if he doesn’t cum again soon he might just spontaneously combust.

Patrick makes quick work lining himself with Art’s entrance and pushing in, since Art is still slick and open for the almost hour Patrick spent rimming him.

It’s only a couple of quick yet hard thrusts before both Patrick and Art are finishing. Patrick fills Art up while Art barely had any cum come out at all, he was empty. Patrick tries to be soothing knowing that Art’s cock is definitely sensitive at this point. He plants some soft kisses on Art’s forehead and cheeks whispering, “you did such a good job for us baby, so fucking hot. love seeing you like this. such a good boy for us.”

They both make sure to get Art and themselves cleaned up before they give him lots of water and cuddles afterwards.

“so how was that? was it too much?” Tashi asks, She’s stroking Art’s hair softly, he’s sandwiched in between her and Patrick.

He shakes his head no, “no it was a lot but i— i really enjoyed it.”

“good, for a second there I thought you were a goner. and we can’t have that now can we?,” Patrick chuckles as he gently caresses his thumb against Art’s wrist.

sidenote: sometimes I wonder if you guys can guess my personal kinks from my writing lmaooooo but yay my first tashi ficc hope I didn’t fuck it up

[mommyslittlebird]

It Felt Like Coming Home

WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After being strong for so long, the veil starts to slip.

CW: Dissociation, Crying, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Gang, I don't know how long this slow burn is gonna last. I might have to adjust to a medium paced burn, cause I apparently don't know how to write a blossoming relationship in a compelling way. For that reason, this one is kinda short.

Chapter 3 of A Room of Your Own

The next morning you found yourself awake earlier than usual. Again. You had a habit of not sleeping well when adjusting to new environments. So you once again made your way to the kitchen before sunrise, where you once again found Wanda leaned up against the counter in the same silk robe from yesterday.

She smiled over her coffee mug when she saw you. “Good morning! Can I make you a cup of coffee?”

You nodded, taking a seat on a stool at the island. 

“Same as yesterday? With my creamer?” 

“Yes please,” you yawned. 

She slid the mug across the island and leaned forward against the counter. “Did you sleep okay?”

You took a sip of coffee and nodded. You hadn’t really slept okay, but you didn’t have any desire to share that with Wanda. She was clearly trying very hard to make you comfortable. She wasn’t buying it. There was clearly something under the surface that didn’t escape her notice. She let the silence sit for a long moment, hoping you would say something. There was a warm glimmer in her green eyes urging you to speak up. You looked down into your mug, idly tapping the mug with your pointer finger. 

Realizing you were going to need more prompting, Wanda spoke again. “How are you feeling? About everything.”

You shrugged, not looking back up at her. You felt surprisingly fine, aside from not sleeping much. But there was another feeling too. One you couldn’t quite describe. It felt like you were stuck in a perpetual hypnopompic state, trapped in the liminal space between being asleep and awake. You were probably just tired. “I’m alright. Just tired, I think. I always have a bit of trouble sleeping in new places.”

Wanda nodded, not entirely satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to press you any further. 

You both turned your head as a very tired looking Natasha came through the doorway. Even with bedhead and tired eyes, she was beautiful. And the smile that spread across Wanda's face as her wife approached was breathtaking. They were picturesque: a type of beauty you could see even through your grief. You had a good feeling about them. Naive as it may be, you were compelled to trust them.

“Morning Y/N,” she yawned, wrapping her arm around Wanda’s waist. “I trust Wanda is taking care of you?” 

You nodded and smiled at them both. “She is.”

“Mmm, she always does,” she hummed, kissing her wife’s cheek. Natasha poured herself a cup of coffee, setting up next to you on the island. She slid you a pen and a pad of paper. “Wands and I are gonna go to the store in a bit. If you’re up for it, you can write down a list of the things you want. Favorite foods, snacks, school supplies, whatever you want.”

You cautiously took the pen. “Oh you all don’t have to go shopping for me or anything just because I’m staying here.”

Natasha leaned against the island, bracing her elbows against the marble. “What if I want to?” She asked in a low, almost testing tone before straightening back up. “It’s really no problem. We’re going to the store anyway. No reason to have you make a separate trip.”

You smiled. You really did hate the grocery store, so you weren’t going to argue. “Careful,” you said lightheartedly. “I might get used to you spoiling me. Then you’ll really have to kick me out.”

Wanda chuckled. She loved seeing this witty, playful side of you peak out beneath your shy, meek exterior. Natasha seemed to bring it out of you. Natasha seemed to bring it out of a lot of people. You couldn’t see the mischievous smirk that spread across her face. “Oh don’t worry. By the time Nat and I let you go you’ll be so high maintenance you won’t settle for anything less. I think you’re due for a good spoiling.” 

A faint blush rose to your cheeks as you finished your list and slid it back to Natasha. “Five items. Woah. I tell you what Wanda, this kid really pushes the limits,” Natasha teased, setting the pen and paper back down in front of you. “Make it ten and I’ll promise to reign in Wanda when it comes to spoiling.” She gives you a wink as you quickly scribble down a few more things. 

************

After a quick trip upstairs to get dressed and ready, they both headed off to the store, leaving you alone to explore the house. The house wasn’t necessarily a “mansion”, per se, but it was certainly bigger than any house you’d ever lived in. Every room had its own special charm. You carefully perused all the repurposed bedrooms and storage spaces you came across, thoroughly exploring all of your surroundings.

Your favorite room, though, was Wanda’s office. It appeared to be a repurposed bedroom on the top floor with a massive window lining the wall and a huge L-shaped desk. It was cluttered, but in a way that made it look more lived-in than messy. Best of all, there was a small indentation in the wall where you guessed there used to be a closet that Wanda had fashioned into a reading nook. The nook sat, pristine and unused, but you could see yourself curling up there for hours. Maybe Wanda would let you sit here and read while she worked. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t even hear the front door click open as Wanda and Natasha returned from the store. 

“Y/N? We’re back!” You heard Natasha call from the foyer. You quickly left the office, closing the door as if you were scared they would catch you. You weren’t sure why the idea made you so nervous. They made it clear you were free to explore. You just naturally felt like an intruder, despite being a welcome guest.

“And we have a surprise for you!” Wanda sang as you came down the steps. 

She sat down a number of paper bags before pulling a mossy green blanket from one of them and handing you the silky soft material. You smiled and took it from her, rubbing the soft material against your cheek. 

“I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I noticed yesterday how much you love soft material and I thought you might like a new blanket for your new bed,” she explained, swaying nervously on her feet. She was worried you weren’t going to like it. 

You hummed contently, unwrapping the blanket and throwing it over your shoulders. It was so incredibly soft and it was big enough to cover your whole bed. Much more suitable than the throw blankets you’d brought with you. “Thank you so much. It’s so nice and soft.”

“And we got some popcorn and ice cream because we were thinking about having a little movie night,” Natasha added. “What do you think? We could gather up all the softest blankets and build you a little nest.”

You stood still, shocked by the suggestion. You thought in staying with them, you’d just be a roommate, coming and going with a few scattered interactions. But this wasn’t just a passing interaction like morning coffee was. They were proposing that you spend the evening together. They wanted to hang out with you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Wanda blurted out after a long moment of silence. “You’ve had a rough couple of days. If it’s more beneficial to just take some time to yourself, hang out in your room, that’s absolutely fine. It’s just a suggestion. If you wanted company.” 

“A movie sounds nice,” you said quietly, pulling the blanket tight over your shoulders. 

Wanda visibly relaxed and smiled softly. “Then I’ll put these groceries away while you two find some blankets.”

“I found one!” Natasha shouted playfully, picking up your blanket wrapped form and carrying you to the corner of the couch where she gently set you down. “You stay here and get comfortable. I’ll go round up some more soft things.”

Both women returned a few minutes later, Wanda with a big bowl of buttery popcorn, and Natasha with a random amalgamation of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals that she promptly dropped directly on top of you, burying you in the heap. 

“Natalia Alinovna Romanoff!” Wanda shouted disapprovingly, setting down the popcorn bowl and rushing to dig you out. You emerged with a giddy, content smile, snuggled up with a fuzzy body pillow. “She could’ve suffocated.”

Natasha jokingly rolled her eyes, which earned her a playful slap on the bicep from Wanda. She couldn’t possibly stay mad at Natasha after watching you happily wiggle under the comforting weight of the soft blankets. You twisted and flopped around like a puppy walking in circles and scratching its pillow so it could lay in its bed just right. The women smiled and giggled affectionately. 

After a few minutes, you finally settled, surrounded in a nest of blankets. 

“Do you have something in particular you’d like to watch?” Wanda asked, grabbing the remote and settling in next to Natasha on one end of the large couch. 

You shrugged but they couldn’t see it under all the blankets. “I don’t know. Maybe Robin Hood or The Aristocats. Something lighthearted and old.”

Wanda clicked the remote, waving her arm in different directions to try to get the TV to respond. After a moment, Natasha took the remote and easily found an old movie on Disney +. Wanda sneered and scrunched up her face. Natasha kissed her nose. 

The movie played in the background, but you spent more time paying attention to the women curled up on the end of the couch. They weren’t “cuddling”, per se, but their bodies weren’t pressed tightly together with their legs nearly intertwined. They both looked so at peace with each other. You yearned for that feeling. 

“You wanna join us?” Natasha asked almost playfully when she caught you staring. 

Wanda, who was closer to you, opened her arm and beckoned you over. 

You paused for a moment before emerging from your blanket nest, crawling up and laying hesitantly beside her. You rested your head in the crook of her arm, but kept your hands curled up against your own chest. 

“Well hang on now, I want some cuddles too. Get over here,” Natasha said with a mischievous smile before pulling you in between them. You giggled as you were gently pulled over Wanda plopped into a small spot on the couch in between them. You nearly head butted Natasha in the process. Wanda pulled your new blanket from the heap and tucked it around the three of you. Natasha wrapped her arm around you and smiled. “Much better.”

You settled into Natasha's chest with your back pressed up against Wanda while she ran her hand gently up and down your spine. You sighed, content in their cocoon of warmth. You felt so supported and loved, affectionately squished between the two women. 

“Are you alright, honey? You're shaking,” Natasha asked, looking down at you with a hint of concern. You furrowed your brow in confusion. You weren’t shaking. But as you started to pay more attention to your body, you noticed she was right. There was a small, almost imperceivable tremble in your muscles. Almost imperceivable unless you happen to be laying on top of someone, of course. 

“And your muscles are so tight. Like you're constricting your entire body,” Wanda added, sitting up to look at your face. “If this is making you uncomfortable we don’t have to…”

“No,” you interrupted. “No it’s not that. It’s just…” You were suddenly aware of your body in a way you hadn’t been in quite some time. It felt like returning to a home you didn’t remember leaving. It was like when you’re going somewhere and you get to your destination, and you can’t remember the drive. You were just… home.

Before you even recognized it, the shield you had unintentionally built started to crumble. Tears fell from your eyes, wetting Natasha’s shirt. “Oh poor baby, you must be exhausted, living with your body so… activated all the time,” Wanda cooed sympathetically.

Neither of them were surprised. In fact, both women acted as if they had anticipated this. Natasha pulled you closer, cradling your head under her chin and gently rocking you. “It’s okay. You're safe now, baby. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you. We’re gonna protect you.”

Their words only made you cry harder, but in a freeing, cathartic way. Wanda rubbed the back of your head gently, leaning over to say “Let it out. We’ve got you, angel. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Their words seeped into your bones, giving you permission to crumble as you sobbed into Natasha’s chest. They both continue to soothe you, rubbing your back and stroking your hair. Neither of them chided or rushed you, giving you time to adjust. Wanda brought you some water. Natasha helped you sit up as she pressed the cool glass to your lips. 

As your sobs faded to sniffles and your eyes started to droop, Natasha whispered “It’s alright. You can fall asleep here. We’ll get you to bed.” You drifted off, finally relaxed and at peace.

[riddle-me-fear]

Who tops? 😈

[don't think I need to put this here, but disclaimer anyway: tw sex and mature language]

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Haaah yes, I knew this question would come up sooner or later.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... I'm leavin'.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

But Jooon, this is the perfect opportunity to practice! See, anon, he doesn't like to talk about these topics in front of others. Riddle me this, Jon, how can you possibly call yourself the master of fear, if you can't even face your own?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

...

That exploitation shit ye'r doin'? It's sickening.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Glad you're staying with us, Jon. Now, to answer your question: Both of us. I top him, he tops me, whatever we feel like in the moment.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Mmmh ya take it a lot mo' often tho.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Aaaah, I beg to differ. See, when I bottom, we do it once and call it a day. When you bottom, you want it several times in a row. And sometimes we even switch it up in the middle of it. So yes, in frequency, it may seem like I take it more often, but I'd argue, looking at the picture in total, we're actually quite matched.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... Ya know, I know ya have da compulsion ta be right all the time. An' we've been together fo' a long time. Still naht used to it. An' I don't think I eva will.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Oh don't try to pin this on me now, just because you've still got so much toxic masculinity within yourself that you don't want to admit that I'm right. For crying out loud, you still refuse to call yourself gay or bi to this day.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Fuck's sake, Eddie, we've had dis argument a gazillion times befo'.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Don't you "Eddie" me! Being romantically and sexually involved with a man, even if it's "just one man" still makes you gay, Jon! And if you're also into women, that makes you bi! Or pan, or whatever more orientations are out there nowadays.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Fuckin' 'ell, if we weren't a thing, I'd only be interested in women. Nah that makes me straight, don't it?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

But oh! There's something incredibly trivial you're forgetting here. News flash: we ARE a thing, Jon! And there's NO shame in admitting you enjoy getting fucked in the ass, just as much as I do. Oh, and your claim that I'm the only man you're interested in? - bull-fucking-shit. If you were given the opportunity to have the absolute SHIT railed out of you by Sinestro RIGHT this second for as long and often as you wanted, TELL ME me RIGHT NOW to my FACE you wouldn't take it!

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

...

...

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Well??

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

I hate'chu so much sometimes.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Didn't answer my question, Jooon.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Hhhhh, yes. ...Yes I'd fuckin' take it.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

See? That wasn't so hard, now, was it?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Still fuckin' hate you.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Naaaw, is my pumpkin pie upset? Tell you what, I'll service you tonight, alright? You can play pillow princess and I'll do it just the way you like it. My treat.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... As often as I want?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Until my back hurts, my knees ache and I pass out from exhaustion next to you.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... Aight.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Will thou ever forgive me for all this torment I've brought upon thee, my love?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Heheheh, depends how many rounds ya can last.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Aaaaah! Are you hearing this, anon? The pure audacity. First he's being a jerk, then he's a cheeky bastard. Unbelievable.

[ednaeflowers]

The first thing she notices is the sparkles in Drawing-Nova's eyes. Edna stares, but can't seem to conclude much from it. Nova looks pretty ordinary for someone who is apparently very lovesick for Ludger's brother. ❛  Some people just can't take no for an answer——they're obnoxious and not worth my time.  ❜ At least, Zaveid isn't worth her time. 

❛  Poor Lurin. It sounds like you're fated to deal with this,  ❜ she says flatly, in a more deadpan manner than a mocking one. ❛  Always stuck listening to lovesick pining for your brother ... How tragic.  ❜ Edna, on the other hand, doesn't care if someone likes Eizen the same way; he's free to like anyone he wants, after all. The only thing she actually cares about is if that person can make Onii-chan happy. Of course, that can't happen now, but maybe if he got to live, perhaps that could've happened. Perhaps. If it had been the other way around, though, Edna knows she could never have a love life because Onii-chan would literally fend everyone away, accusing them of being 'unworthy' of her or whatever. 

While she cannot quite see the appeal in wanting the world to acknowledge you in such a way, his zeal amuses her. ❛  All this work for a star to be named after you. I suppose you got your work cut out for you then.  ❜ There are so many stars out there, she's pretty sure one named after him would be super hard to spot anyway——but even then, he still really wants that star. Humans are so ... determined for weird reasons. Maybe one day in the distant future, Edna can find his star during one of her usual walks.

She didn't expect much reception to her lifestyle, so she tilts her head a little at a specific part of Ludger's response, eyeing his notepad curiously. ❛  What 'responsibilities' are you tasked with?  ❜ Surely a clan that knows about seraphim have something more extraordinary to do than a clan who doesn't know of them. 

Well, that's what she thinks. Edna has never actually met clans before, much less individual people on a mountain as secluded as Rayfalke——but from the way he talks, Ludger does a lot. Ironically, he originally struck her as someone with loads of free time. Even though it seems eccentric to her that he has a portable kitchen, his actions and words imply that he has prior experience with meeting seraphim and communicating with them. He even mentioned Zaveid, Lailah, and Meebo's names earlier, and also Sorey. Clearly, they have a long history with seraphim. Did they exist around the Era of the Gods then?  

The Kresnik Clan ... Maybe Sorey and Alisha would've liked to meet them. ❛  I'll humor you by answering yes,  ❜ she casually answers, lifting up the bag of palmiers he gifted her, ❛  since I can see and acknowledge your effort. Good Lurin. I'll let you eat one of the marron glacé even though they're for me, because I'm benevolent like that.  ❜  

Oh right, Edna wouldn't know Nova. He could explain, but visual aids are always better. So... flexing his artistic skills, Ludger sketched a head shot of Nova. He made sure she had that twinkle in her eye she saved for his brother, who either ignored it or never noticed. Once he finished, he'd call his work decent-- not frame it on your wall worthy, but it did resemble a person without any glaring flaws.

'This is her. She's very friendly and can get anyone smiling. Only negative I got about her is she constantly gushes about dating my brother one day. No amount of telling her it's not happening stopped her.' Maybe she can relate to Lord Zaveid in that way-- both want people they'll never get. Nova just has one where Zaveid has... a lot, probably.

As expected, Lady Edna does confirm his dream's a cheese wheel with a side of cheese. Although mysteriously, she drops her snark to warn him: life's not going to pull any punches, so he better make sure he leaves no regrets behind if he wants to instill hope in others. Ludger shoots a concerned frown for a second until he figures it's not his business to pry.

'Don't worry, I've gotten pretty good at reminding my stubborn big brother he can't eat pasta margheritas in the afterlife. And I'm determined to fulfill my duties to this world until my time's up! They'll name a real star after me by the time I'm done!' Ludger punctuates the message with a full on salute. 'Or maybe there'll be a dish called "The Ludger's Special" in my honor. Either's fitting for me. ( ꈍ◡ꈍ)'

His syrup sample earned itself perfect marks. Ludger puffs his chest with pride-- and who says you can't make a five star meal on the road? Though most don't carry nearly as much as he does. Lady Edna also shares her daily routine: walking around and visiting her brother. Rayfalke's a big place, so there's definitely enough ground to take up a full day. Though her brother... was he...?.He'd ask Victor, he knows that stuff.

'Not boring at all! But I'd probably go mad worrying I'm not doing enough to make things better. I wouldn't be able to talk to you like this if I didn't feel that responsibility.' Like most in the clan, he relied on his Oath to see and treat Hellions. Of course if he could go back, he would've chosen something different... or at least specified a subject.

'Sorry if that's a bit heavy-handed. (；^ω^) Guess that shows I'm worrying even now huh? But that's our family business: worrying about the world in ways most humans can't!' Or maybe that's just a symptom of being Julius' little brother. 'Though right now my biggest worry is making sure this visit's a treat both in taste and company. Is that working so far? (人ゝω・）'

[screechingfromthevoid]

@disastertourwaterdeepedition

Sorry for the weird fucking post but like tumblr straight up ate your ask?? I had to search and screenshot from my email??

Its like super fine I love big rants and big feelings (especially about the blorbo of the month).

Whoa buddy if you wanna talk about a rant. This got so long I'm putting it under a read more.

I'm not sure any of this is above board conscious thought process. When he looks to Orym, when he thinks about how he feels about Orym, I think Dorian, king of compartmentalizing, gets a rush of all three of the things in the post. He gets a little too lost in thought looking at the way Orym's hair now tries to curl against his ear or how well tailored the armor is to his body, he first gets hit with the Will guilt. Then he thinks about "ohmygodtheresawaron" and he'd shovel all of that down. Because its not time to think about Orym and him. But he knows by the way Orym watches him "sleep". He knows by the way Orym refused to be princess carried in Aeror. (Seriously dude Dorian princess carries everyone. It would have been less suspicious if you let it happen). He knows because Orym didn't see his husband when they were in Zephrah. But when he dares himself to actually think about a possible future together, he uses the big three to shove it down. And no, he has no clue that Orym thinks he doesn't return his feelings. (Wow you're right. Pronouns are hard)

Lol to finally answer your question: I'm not sure! Because the thing is! Orym has gone down twice in a battle with Dorian there! And honestly if Orym being on death's door doesn't make either of them confess, i'm not sure what will! (thats a lie I do have an idea). But like Orym went to the moon and back and almost died on the moon and all the count communicate to Dorian was "I miss you"!! Orym nearly died twice in one battle and he didn't think to give Dorian a sloppy, "If I die again I want to have kissed you once" kiss before going in for another round of getting hacked on. Dorian watched him go down and had to bring him back from death's door (one failed save scared the shit out of me) and he didn't think to give Orym a "We need you, I need you" kiss.

My unfortunate thought process, which I can't decide if I want it to come true or not, is that Dorian has to get hurt. Like when I say hurt I fucking mean it. Taken down in a round or two, two failed death saves, hurt. Because then Orym will have to face losing Dorian again. Face losing the man he loves, again. He pours a healing potion into Dorian's mouth because warlocks don't have a single healing spell. (Just checked). Orym feels so helpless in saving Dorian, because a healing potion isn't nearly enough to keep him up. He starts to cry over Dorian's (now conscious) body. He whispers between sobs "Not again, not again. Dorian you can't leave me. I love you, please, I never got to tell you, please stay alive." and Dorian, having heard all of that, reaches up to cup Orym's cheek and says. "Alright, just for you though."

Or something like that.

As much as I would love for them to be adults and just talk to each other. I know thats not going to happen. (Please, Robbie, Liam, prove me wrong.) So I think major tragedy will be the reason they confess to each other. Because they're idiots in love with a lot of weight on their shoulders.

[theladyfae]

i think human nature/family of blood is a really good two parter in how it manages to show how full of shit ten is 🫶

[unproduciblesmackdown]

further thoughts re: [idea behind mitb] & [winston billions]

that ofc the specific situation of mitb of even being so thrown into a seismic shift in perspective in this moment, brought on by like whoa what if actually being alone / rejected by the person who was always on my side, like winston in canon can't ever be in that position lmao like even with the continual [people turn on him] moments, nobody was ever actually on his side in the first place & people only Turn from [less of negative attention upon him] to [more]

But then pointing to like wait, one thing, the very ending: all you know about me is my name / awesome party, i'm so glad i came [cha cha cha] like assign that to winston's departure from straightforward in-office employee with the fun details of: • we don't even know his name, rare No Last Name Ever Bothered With for any recurring character, much less one who's been around for seasons. just quant things • probably only any party b/c he arranged it for himself (what arrogance, as opposed to being pointedly ignored / denied baseline acknowledgments as deserved) & • nonzero people pointedly refusing to attend b/c they hate him more than anything, as opposed to the people who do attend to express hostility & contempt as per the I'm The Ultra Cool Guy Normal Person(tm) ideal of "if i interact with / observe someone & consider them such a Lesser / Other to me & issue whatever disparaging cues, any third parties would totally recognize my superiority" uhh nnnyeThis guy, umm ohh kayyy lol. scoff sneer etc. Extremely epic yes

also shoutout to billions for both Needing to show us that "uh lol winston can't just Get to Leave" expression of contempt / vicarious power trip But also that's not enough lmfao like he really can't get to leave, casting its yugioh card of "essence of [most dangerous time in an abusive relationship? trying to leave it]" like again, You Don't Get To, then Uh Oh winston in leaving is not only acting without permission but in doing so is denying us our property! time for some assaulting & stalking & killing :) figuratively we swear but who would know what nonexistent mitb happens :)) wheee haha Hell yeah so affirmed & fulfilled in our power & superiority. wretchedly like why is this also what happens with wendy & axe at the end of s5 as axe resents wendy not acting like his property / without his permission & gets vindictive & aggressive & it's like okay well with the stalking & surveilling in the mix i'm sure wendy will now finally get to be Done. wrong! reveling in romance (dragged over glass) as wendy is sooo special that she can still just Understand & Choose Loyalty even as unideal as axe was, truly, she's powerful enough to handle axe :) unlike other bitches who'd get all hysterical & give up. selfish

also speaking of the "you have to pay attention & listen to how this guy feels for 5 minutes" like with pointed [my personal perspective & considering Just Like Real Life] i don't like, especially with canon, really have that for winston in terms of like that even if people Had to listen, which would be the only way they did b/c winston Does express how he feels at all & it gets pointedly ignored / suppressed / punished, like they wouldn't change their perspective lol. when i consider "well winston could hope they would, think they might, want & try for this" like i don't consider that it would work lol, definitely not based on canon dynamics, where Just Like The Perspective Of The Show Itself like winston can seize some opportunity & express himself "perfectly" but it wouldn't work b/c everyone's already decided to think of him as inferior & not a person & will continue choosing to do so / choosing to play into the idea of their superiority rather than letting it be threatened, much less embracing that & questioning themselves / that concept. Oops Same Essence once again when like all that's questioned about Power is that only Meritous, Truly benevolent godlike individuals ought to have it :) no problems detected when wendy is really exactly the same as prince b/c of course she'd have to be when it's just "nothing wrong with seeing people as inferior, in fact it's inevitable & necessary & good & we love it, just so long as Really superior people are correctly arranged in the hierarchy over Really inferior 'people' who i'm not really hurting or wronging or using when they bring it upon themselves & are wrong in their lesserness"

so like shoutout again to "billions is like, the song 'be more chill' in be more chill, seeing the squip as the protagonist like yes wheee yay tell jeremy everyone's right to treat him as they do & he brings it upon himself & should be dead & twist his arm however you want to get this" only i think in bmc you can interpret that the squip really does want to "redeem" jeremy by forcing him to become a different person & all & just conform to the norm & play & win the game....billions might Supposedly want that, framing wendy using & toying with other people's lives & feelings as she sees fit as Necessary, Correct, & Magnanimous, but really like oh no wendy doesn't even really "fix" people b/c welp there's still the hierarchy of ranking on everyone's Inherent unequal personhood & we can't all be the most special best person in the world like wendy but she can Redeem us a little bit if we're not the lost causes too inferior to recognize & defer to Her superiority. plus she's busy with the enrichingly complicated & important cases of: enabling someone like axe :) like billions is just into the power trip really of like "wow yeah you're correct in judging that person as inferior & bringing it upon themself" & "really" fixing someone by killing them & replacing them with an allistic person e.g. isn't actually of that much interest b/c then the power trip would, theoretically, be done with. no thanks

meanwhile perhaps some restraint for this last point brought on by Oops already verbalizing a lot but the one thing i did only just think of was like, obviously winston comparable to jeremy & the material surrounding jeremy But i was like oh hey i kind of think of the winston & tuk dynamic as glimpsed in canon & extrapolated upon thusly as respectively michael & jeremy esque & sure never framed it that way to myself lol. this duo of like the ultimate losers around but who can kind of obviously also bond / deliberately unionize over this; winston as the "well they'll treat me like this either way so i may as well do my own thing fully at least" more confident one while tuk is similar enough & it's like oh i can be not just myself but More myself with this person than maybe i even am Alone alone & we like each other & have fun & i'm encouraged &c & so on, being a bit more "ah jeez :( i do kind of try to see if i can manage to play by the rules better & maybe be killed less," & even sure have thought about the conflicts that could arise as like "yeah it's good if winston being around me can kind of insulate me & involve encouragement But Then Also downsides like, can it feel overbearing if just feeling eclipsed by winston's personality, if feeling like yeah following winston's lead helps me but what if that defines me too much / what about getting by outside that, can encouragement from that Confident Vivacious personality feel pushy?" all very much like that conflict jeremy & michael have of jeremy wanting to change things up & figure out his relationship with himself & what he can do through that a little bit more, hardly able to express that to himself much less michael, michael who doesn't know quite what's going on & but of course is also affected by how people treat him, as we did know but yknow impossible to have real serious feelings & act vivacious & cheerful, & feels supported by his relationship / dynamic w/jeremy too....wouldn't be the same b/c there's no high school scifi plot & also like, no [um frivolous teen problems are for teens only. adults don't do the bullying & popularity & insecurity &c] as has been said lol like it doesn't just Stop, but that like they Are older so probably could have an at all easier & more successful time talking through things & understanding their own feelings, but always fun to imagine some drama & conflict sure lol like even just a period of some Confusion / Mixed Feelings like ah new good friends with tuk but maybe tuk withdraws / avoids winston a bit then to try to take a breath & get perspective from a step back, maybe it can seem to winston like we're having a good time what a promising new relationship but then sudden/confusing irritation with me / some apparent rejection, an easy issue is just like as seems to be canon lol like well nobody's known winston for eons here, just met, winston's Already got the independently big personality / doing his own things mode, could be hard to warm up to that / even Understand it, especially in [hierarchy play the game kill each other it's them or you] bullying world anyway. however also tuk has ben who is also sort of relatively on the Less outwardly bold seeming side who is also there to buffer or insulate or intervene, But that can also just be [same issue parallel to jeremy/michael] lmao like does it mitigate it or exacerbate it or bit of both / varyingly, depending. do we all kiss at the same time

[thesmokinpossum]

talking about men i have questionable relationships with, some dude at the hang out described the one TA I have a bit of a flirt going on with as "the worst prof I've ever had" and I didn't say anything but I was standing there like ok but you're smaller, uglier and less charismatic than him so why are you talking shit???

[partiallysame]

Ghost gets no bitches and he reminds me of whatever that TikTok audio is that’s like “how’d you get her?” And the other person is like “get her? No she grabbed me by the throat and told me I was hers”.

Word count: 800

Warnings: none (ghost being immediately whipped)

So hear me out you’re at the grocery store and while walking down the aisles you see this behemoth of a man. Big muscle sexy, surgical mask covering his face. You want. What to say? How should you approach? Ah yes you need help getting something from the top shelf. Stepping so you’re in his line of sight

“Could you come here?” You ask him and he just gives you a blank stare. Raising your eyebrows clearly waiting for a response he turns around looking for who you could be talking to and who is clearly not listening to you. When he sees no one else in the aisle he slowly points at himself, questioning you. “Yes you.” You smile trying to hold in a laugh. Quickly adding a “please” in the sweetest little voice and he is scurrying over to you.

“Could you please reach that box for me?” Ghost raises his arm up and points to a box when you nod confirming that’s the one you want he hands it to you. “That one too please” he obeys. You have him hand you two more boxes (not needing any of them). Then you try to push your luck a little. “Wait not this one” you hand him a box back and he returns it to the shelf. Before you know it you’ve had this man put all the boxes back just to hand them to you again. A smirk plastered on your face. Not once did the large man question you, not when you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“Ok done with this aisle. Come on.” You start walking and his feet are following you. He hasn’t said a word to you but is following you around the store like a puppy. Down the next aisle you pointed at something (well within your reach) and he handed it you.

“Are you always this obedient?” You watched his eyes go wide but he found himself nodding. He’d probably say yes to anything you ask when you’re looking at him like that, like you want to eat him whole. His answer brought a smile to your face and he swore his knees were gonna buckle. You held out your hand, “phone.” It was a statement not a question and he quickly (fumbling) pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. When you saw it was locked you looked up at him moving the phone ever so slightly towards him. You had meant for him to take the phone and unlock it but instead he mumbled out “0000” a small but dramatic gasp left your lips “oh so he does speak.” You typed in the 4 digits and the phone opened. You looked up at him when the basic passcode worked. “Simple and obedient. Just how I like ‘em” ghost swallowed hard. No one has ever treated him like this. Spoke to him like this. Not even Price. He should be offended? Insulted? Definitely not turned on. Right? (mark him down and scared AND horny). You handed his phone back to him, your number and name resting on his screen. He reached to take the phone from you, but you didn’t let go. Fingers touching you looked up at him “you better call me. I’ll be real sad if you dont.” He swore he was gonna pass out. Before you let go of his phone, hands still touching, heavy steps made their way into your aisle.

“Aye lieutenant there ye are. Been wandering round lookin fer ya.” Soap called down the aisle.

Ghost refused to acknowledge his friend calling for him, keeping eye contact with you. Your smile got bigger as you let go of the phone.

“Lieutenant huh? That mean you know how to give orders too?” He nodded again. “Then I’m definitely going to need you to call me. I’d like to see that.” Your eyes shamelessly raked down his figure. Fuck he needs to hold on to something.

Once you finally walked away, Soap approached quickly asking who you were and when ghosted shrugged his shoulders “I don’t know.” (But he’s gonna that’s for sure)

“She’s a fine looking lass I’m gonna go talk to her.” Ghost’s hand moved fast, grabbing the back of Soap’s neck guiding (pushing) him in the opposite direction of you. He was thanking god you saw him first and not Soap. If you had talked to Soap like that, ghost knew you’d have him walking on a leash (who’s he kidding if you had asked ghost would’ve barked)

Part 2 Part 2.5 part 3

[zyafics]

CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you

you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)

WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks

Word Count — 2.2K

lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller

You always wanted Rafe.

It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.

Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.

Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.

You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.

At least, in public.

You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.

And he did.

Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.

It drove him insane.

Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.

Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?

It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.

The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.

And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.

His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.

Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.

"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."

"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"

"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."

You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.

"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."

His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.

"You're not fucking me in a car."

"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.

"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."

He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.

"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."

"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"

"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."

You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.

And what he can do with it.

Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.

That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.

When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.

But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."

So fucking pretentious.

It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.

And he was right.

You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.

"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."

"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.

"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"

"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."

"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"

You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.

You win.

"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.

"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."

Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.

"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.

Yet, Rafe merely grins.

"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3

[jinwoosbabyboo]

𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚙 𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛

LADS Men and a cramp simulator. This is how I imagine they would handle it.

A/N: I’ve gotten many requests for a cramp simulator so this is for those who wanna torture their man hehe

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[Before]

Of course he is berating you with questions. Where did you get this? why do you want him to do this? Will this have long lasting effects?

Believes you when you say your cramps are bad so he’s having a hard time understanding why you want to cause him immense pain

Agrees anyway because he will always do whatever you want him to do

[During]

This would be one of the rare moments you see Zayne break his calm cool and collected composure

“Are you sure you’re not having a heart attack every month?” He’s leaning on any surface he can find long after you’ve taken the simulator off of him

I imagine he has a high pain tolerance, but this was too much “You can turn it off now” you turn it up. “My love please turn it off” red in the face sweating and hands are shaking

[After]

You gave him your heating pad to help with the lingering pain “I was unaware of what you were dealing with every month”

Prepare to be pampered every time you get your period now; he's stocking up all your feminine products, tea, heating pads, painkillers, and your favorite foods and snacks

Monitors your heart closely during the week because he's worried you might have a heart attack

Brings up the option of medical grade painkillers, but immediately changes his mind because he doesn’t want you getting addicted

“Next time you start you period just take the week off” insists you stay home and let him take care of you, bringing you tea and rubbing your stomach

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[Before]

Overconfident to start — he can sense when you’re not feeling well, but can’t sense your cramp pain he just knows you’re not okay

Believes you when you say your cramps are bad, but "there’s no way they’re that bad" he has a high pain tolerance so “this will be a piece of cake turn it up”

[During]

Trying to hide the grimace on his face when he feels the first ‘cramp’ “Keep going?” “Yea this is nothing” he’s already sweating

Screaming, whining, crying and damn near throwing up “I’m dying there’s no way im not dying I see the light” “You’re not dying” “YES I AM”

“This is what you go through? No wonder you’re so mean” “I was being nice this is what I actually feel” you turn it up and he throws himself on the floor “I’M SORRY I’M SORRY TURN IT OFF PLEASE” gasping for air as he rolls around

[After]

Leaves you little snacks and gifts outside the door whenever you get your period now

Has never asked “Is it really that bad?” again because he knows the answer now; gets pains just thinking about it

Had to go lay down and take a nap after you took the simulator off of him.

Stocks up on heating pads and rubs your stomach and back religiously now

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[Before]

Isn’t nervous, but also isn't excited “I’m ready”

Is only doing this because you promised him hotpot afterwards

“You’re no stranger to pain” “Im not a masochist” “Debatable”

[During]

The pain was so bad that it pissed him off “This is complete bullshit” “I’m not interested in continuing this turn it off please”

When you turn it up so show him what you actually experience he’s kneeling at your feet begging you to turn it off “My Star please I understand please end this”

Accidentally grips whatever is near him so hard he breaks it

sweating, red in the face with tears in his eyes

[After]

Nurse Xavier now

Whenever you get your period he’s making you lay down and take it easy all week.

Is helping you in and out of bed

Leaves either a tampon or fresh underwear with a pad already lined in it on the counter for you when you get out of the shower

Loves these weeks now because he can nap with you as much as he wants

Carries you everywhere “Xav I promise I can walk” “With cramps as horrendous as those? You really are superwoman”

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[Before]

Nonchalant as always has almost a bored expression

“I still feel pain Princess, but I'll indulge you”

You tell him to sit down, but he opts to stand

"You shot and stabbed me before I can handle this" "I scratched you" "You stabbed me clear through the chest" "What?" "What."

[During]

Panting and red in the face does his best to try and handle the pain

Breathing heavily and doubled over leaning against the nearest surface he can find

“Okay okay thats enough” brought him to knees once again “I thought you could handle pain?” “That does not mean I enjoy it”

Has to sit down for a while completely still like a statue after that

[After]

Already pampered you during your periods, but he’s upped it now

Literally tracks your cycle and makes sure he’s always nearby incase it comes early

Wants you to stay with him the entire time “I need to go to work Sylus” “No you don’t you need to rest”

Makes a nesting bed for you and is at your beckoned call