#like i do have much bigger problems to think about

[bunni-v1]

Something that's been on my mind for so long is lighter/harumasa x chubby! Reader, coming from someone chubby I hate how my body doesn't fit multiple outfits or my rolls whenever I sit down. But oh my goodness it's been on my mind o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

🍓Every time a chubby bitch (affectionate) feels insecure a fairy dies. Not to be weird but I fucking love chubby people, they're so fucking hot, I will burn down all of society for them. These r short btw, sorry. I personally have had the opposite issue weight-wise my whole life, so I didn't wanna pretend like I knew what you go through lol.

Lighter Lorenz

-Lighter prefers his partner to have more meat on their bones, I'm 100% sure. (Hoyoverse told me). Having more of you to hold and love would never be a bad thing, and it irritates him when people insinuate their partners being bigger is a bad thing.

-He doesn't really leave room for you to feel insecure about yourself, because he's so very in love with all of you. If you even utter a negative word about yourself he's looking at you with this adorable pouty glare, getting ready to kiss you stupid so you'll shut up.

-He's great for your self-esteem because he makes you feel so amazing and pretty. He peppers you with kisses, especially over parts of your skin you find particularly ugly. He will shower you with love until you also love yourself as much as he does.

-If you're worried about being too heavy for him to hold or anything, that's not a problem either. Lighter is strong, and easily lifts you up regardless of how heavy you are. You weigh nothing to him, honestly, and it's not even a challenge.

-It's not just him, though. The girls also love you, and they won't let you feel bad about the way your body looks. Lighter comes with your own personal hype squad attached, it seems.

-Help the stupid soul that makes you feel insecure. Lighter is like your valiant Knight in Leather Armor. If someone has an issue with you, they have an issue with him, and he's happy to prove that to them if need be.

Harumasa Asaba

-Harumasa is, how do I put this... weight blind? He's just not the kind of guy to really give that much of a shit about little things like that. Life is too short to be picky about the person you fall in love with, and he honestly wouldn't want you to change anything for him anyway.

-Chubby, skinny, tall, short, whatever, it doesn't matter that much to him. You are you, that's all that matters right? Well, if you're feeling bad about yourself, then it matters a little bit. He doesn't want you thinking he doesn't care about your feelings.

-Always, always assures you that you look so good in everything -- and equally, he's always willing to prove that he thinks you look good. He can't promise the clothes will survive, but if it'll make you feel better the clothes can be nobly sacrificed.

-And, yeah, he uses the "You're more comfortable to cuddle," argument on you all the time. It's true, though. You are very comfortable to lay on and sleep with. The soft squish of your warm tummy is the perfect resting spot after a long day of work.

-If someone's bothering you or making you feel bad, he's the type to come over and flip it around on them. He's very good at finding people's insecurities, after all. If they want to make you feel bad, they should know what it feels like too! It's only fair, right?

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Hi Derin!

Recently I came across one of your long posts about clothes, and it was a long long branching thread but it basically amounted to " the only way to stop humanity from man-made extinction caused by the fashion industry is to start wearing outfits made of many high-quality layers where every single piece down to your bra is made out of high quality materials that are EXPENSIVE but designed to last for decades, and in order to do that we need to start wearing underwear that covers bigger percentage of our skin than just a bra and a g string ,the way our ancestors did" and while I agree with that, I am wondering about something- JUST HOW do we adapt this kind of underwear that our ancestors wore to modern fashion, bc there are some very big differennces between " modern fashion" and " the fashion of yore" namely

Modern fashion includes many, many different styles of "tops" and "bottoms" ,from long jackets to tank tops cropped just under your nipples and full length trousers to miniskirts, while the fashion of yore was basically " you wear a cultural equivalent of a nun's habit every single day of your life, from the day you were born until the day that you die, no ifs or buts" (yeah yeah a MASSIVE oversimplification but bear with me here)

Modern fashion "strives" to be gender neutral, while the fashion of yore was basically like " there are two sexes, and if you wear clothes designed for the 'wrong' sex we're legally allowed to murder you with extra cruelty" ( YES I KNOW EVEN BIGGER OVERSIMPLIFICATION)

so yeah that's something that I was wondering for the past couple of days and I was wondering if you have any good ideas about how to solve those problems

My opinion on the matter is that fabric was just fine twenty years ago. Those clothes can last a long time under normal use and washing without being painstakingly hand-spun and woven to be part of a wardrobe that costs as much as a small home.

But if you did want to go back to protective layering, it's not hard. I do it, mostly because I can't stand the cold, so if you live in a cold climate you don't even have to change your fashion; just put the softest, thinnest tracky daks and long-sleeved tshirt you own on under your other clothes. Boom, skin layer. If you live in a warm climate, then do that with smaller clothes, I guess, shorts and skivvies or whatever, whatever fits under the clothes you like to wear.

To answer your broader question, you've got it entirely backwards. Never once in the history of clothing have the materials and industry adapted to the fashion. The fashion is an expression of the materials and the industry. The creation of the industrial loom alters the fashion, not the other way round. The availability of elastic changes the fashion, not the other way around. The changing climate and changing needs of the wearer (hard-wearing clothes for labourers, etc.) changes the fashion, not the other way around. Fashion is an intersection of culture, environment and industry; it can be used as a tool for politics and market demand, same as any cultural artefact, but it needs to be practical within its environment. If wearing barrier layers became popular again, then the clothing that people wore would be clothing that they find comfortable and good looking over barrier layers.

From the context of this post I assume you're alluding to European feudal and pre-industrial clothing, although high quality fabric has existed for most of human history in societies that did and did not wear barrier layers, but I'm not sure what you mean by 'the cultural equivalent of a nun's habit'. A nun's habit had the cultural equivalent of a nun's habit. I'm not a historian but I can't think of any society of the type you're alluding to where everyday clothing would be equivalent to a nun's habit in any way beyond being, y'know, clothes. What do you mean by this? (Also, people back then also wore a great many styles of clothing; I'm not sure why you list that as a specifically modern thing.)

Modern fashion, on the whole, absolutely does not strive to be gender neutral, but if it did, this would not in any way restrict fabric quality or the use of barrier layers. Men's and women's clothing of yore were both looked after.

[ihfmseatsoch]

femcel bitch fem!jimmy, who makes the (lesbian) reader eat her out for nothing in return, and puts her cigs out on her please? 🙏🙏

fem!jimmy....... ouuuhhugh GET THE STRAP 🗣️‼️i renamed him jamie because keeping his name as jimmy sounded a little silly . hope thats not a problem.. :p

genre: smut

word count: 1.9k

warnings/content: enemies to fuckbuddies who are still enemies, sexual harassment, dubcon, oral, degradation, forced kissing, hair pulling, she puts her cigarette out on you, reader doesnt cum -_-

��

You fucking hated your co-pilot.

Every time she eyes you up and down like you're a dead rodent, organs spilt out in every direction, her nose wrinkled at the smell of your rotten corpse, your blood boils to dangerous, scalding levels. So much so, you fear you may spontaneously combust one day.

You've never felt such all-consuming detestation for anyone in your life. Sure, you've had coworkers you disliked, but they didn't compared to her, someone so arrogant, hubristic, filled with unreasonable contempt for others. You weren't sure why she expressed such apparent distaste for YOU in particular. As far as you know, you'd done nothing to earn her mistreatment.

You'd brought her snarky attitude up to your Captain out of concern that perhaps you really were the problem after all. Your worries were met with a shake of the blond's head and a smile, telling you, "Ain't your fault. Jamie's always been... rough 'round the edges. Antisocial, if you ask me. Don't tell her I said that. She'll warm up to you."

Curly had an annoying tendency to defend his bitch of a work partner, no matter what she'd done or said. You almost wondered if they were fucking on the down low, but you didn't exactly want to envision the possibility for too long.

The most infuriating part about Jamie Zare, was that she was stupidly hot. Even you couldn't deny it. You couldn't stop yourself from glaring at her from afar, sometimes with feelings other than unadulterated loathing. It wasn't romantic attraction, fuck no. You'd rather eat blended glass and razor blades than go through actually dating her. Lust, was more like it.

Jamie carried herself so... confidently, like she owned the entire ship, going wherever she pleased, smoking near the air vents and causing the alarm to go off, Swansea's voice bellowing and raging about how 'that woman', as he calls her, needs to 'get her shit together'. You didn't necessarily disagree, but the thought of Jamie losing her enticing edge that drew you in took away her appeal, somewhat.

She was a selfish cunt, but she did look incredibly sexy puffing on a cigarette that rested between her long, slender fingers, her nail polish always chipped, even after she applies a new coat. You assume it's because of the way she habitually bites her nails, spitting the pieces she ripped off with her teeth anywhere she felt like.

Jamie has been occupying every square inch of your brain, lately. For a woman you're supposed to hate, you sure do fantasize about her a lot more than you're proud of. She's not helping your predicament, either, throwing sexual comments your way when she's not being passive aggressive or downright nasty. It's obvious that she likes the way you go speechless, every muscle in your body tensing, when she casually tells you, "Your tits look bigger than usual today" or, "Your uniforms gettin' a little tight around your ass, huh?"

At least you think she's complimenting you. In a way that could get her reported to HR for harassment, but knowing Pony Express, they wouldn't do anything substantial.

You just have to grit your teeth when she snickers to herself after your face reddens with a combination of scorn, and horniness. Your brain really went and bombarded you with rampant sexual desire for the worst woman out of the two you work with.

Awesome.

One night, (or whatever time it actually was on Earth) you had just begun to finish up with your work. Exhaustion weighed heavy on your body, and you wanted nothing more than the shitty, uncomfortable cot in your quarters. Devastatingly that plan was ruined for you when you heard a familiar voice rasp directly behind you, "Hey. Got a sec? Need somethin' from you real quick."

You resist the urge to clench your fists and scream at the top of your lungs, but you think you feel your eye twitch. Regaining your composure, you spin around to face her. Her arms are crossed, a boney hip leaning against the steel wall, her much taller figure looming over yours. "Um... Okay? What is it?" You try not to sound too annoyed.

Pushing herself off the wall promptly, she grabs your wrist and starts leading you down the hall, her hand unpleasantly cold. You couldn't even respond due to your sheer bafflement, plus your mind wasn't working at its full capacity due to your tiredness. Her legs move in large strides, faster than your own can keep up with.

"...Where are we–"

"Quiet."

Before you can even get mad at her for cutting you off, she's opening the door to her quarters and pulling you inside. It smells like body odor and nicotine. This is exactly why you've always steered clear of this room. Until now, but that's because you were forced. More than puzzled, you try to speak, "So... what did you nee–"

Once again, she cuts you off, this time with her mouth. The force of her shoving you against the wall knocks the air from your lungs, but her lips attacking yours with an almost repulsive sloppiness prevents you from taking a breath. You're not even kissing her back out of sheer bewilderment, but that doesn't deter her. "Jamie–" jesus, you can't get a single word out around this girl.

"Shut up," She huffs when she finally pulls back, a string of spit connecting your lips, "I need this. Just keep your loud mouth zipped for once, 'kay?" Jamie shoves her knee between your legs roughly, the feeling adjacent to being kicked right in the vagina. In other words, ouch.

Her chapped lips adhere to your neck, sucking on the flesh, leaving marks that are sure to turn from red, to shades of purple and blue, which will be a nuisance to hide until they fade. Her boney joint grinding against your cunt actually starts to feel good, rubbing and bumping against your clit. Jamie gropes whatever part of you that she can access; Your tits, hips, and ass being the spots she lingers on the most. You hate how wet she's getting you already, despite her lack of consideration for your physical comfort. Maybe you like how she's treating you as if you don't even have a conscience. That's a new kink you'll have to contemplate later, though.

"On your fuckin' knees. C'mon." Jamie grabs your shoulders to physically push you to a kneeling position, as if waiting for you to comply would take too long. You were gonna do it, but whatever. You can't find it in you to be too pissed at her impatience. She unbuckles her belt in front of you, shoving down her jeans and boxers with an urgency that leaves you winded, the entire situation moving way too fast for you to fully comprehend anything.

But what you do know, is that you're face to face with her pussy right now. Her bush is surprisingly well groomed, dark brown, pin straight pubic hair trimmed down so it's not overwhelmingly thick.

"You gonna keep starin', or do I gotta tell you what to do?" Jamie scoffs like you're the biggest idiot in the world for not knowing how to react in such a sudden situation. You can't think of anything to say, which further proves your stupidity to her. "Guess so." She sighs, like not getting what she wants immediately is the hardest thing she's ever dealt with.

She grabs your hair, urging your head towards her cunt, so close that you can smell her musk, and feel the heat radiating from her body. "You're gonna make me cum with your smartass mouth." She says, like it's factual. Like she knows without a doubt in her mind that you're going to do it whether you want to or not.

Her domineering personality doesn't aggravate you like usual. It's more intimidating than anything else, given the circumstances. So you nod, gulping down any hesitant comments. Verbalizing them wouldn't help you very much. Do you even want to be helped?

Your tongue darts out, licking an experimental stripe along her slit, her abdomen tensing when you reach her clit, a whispered curse leaving her lips. Her reaction encourages you to give the puffy nerve more attention, lapping and sucking with fervor. Her slick is tangy, the flavor appetizing on your tongue. You don't mind when she shoves you in deeper, grabbing hold of your head to angle your tongue where she wants it most, practically grinding her pussy on your mouth, your cheeks covered in her arousal.

"Fuuuck," she drawls, head tilted back, "You're not half fuckin' bad at this. Should just start comin' to you whenever I need to get off, huh?"

Her offer doesn't sound unideal. In fact, the thought alone has you moaning into her. She barks a short laugh at your pathetic sound. "Yeah? Knew you'd like that idea. Cunt hungry fuckin' slut." Even her degradation has you rubbing your thighs together, trying to create friction against your neglected core.

Jamie's breathing becomes ragged, her legs wobbling slightly as she continues to try and keep them from giving out, her fingernails digging into your scalp now, the short stubs feeling sharper all of a sudden. "Gonna– mmh– cum all over your pretty face soon," she speaks through her gasps, "and you're gonna lick up every last drop of it, y'hear?"

A harsh slap coming down on your cheek is your signal to nod obediently. You don't have a choice but to comply, anyway.

With a gutteral cry, her juices gush onto your tastebuds, your tongue lapping at her hole all the way through her orgasm. When her body is done convulsing, coming down from her peak, she pulls you away from her pussy, your face just as soaked as she is. You look a bit dazed, drunk off the taste and smell of her.

"You're a lot cuter like this." She backhandedly comments, grabbing a cigarette from a nearby pack of Newports, which she never seems to run out of. Even if she chainsmoked them for 24 hours straight, she'd find more. It's a mystery how she snuck them onto the ship.

Jamie takes a long drag, completely ignoring you now, your knees hurting from kneeling for so long, but you're still unsure if you're allowed to stand up yet. You feel awkward as the room falls silent. How can she block you out of her mind in a split second? Like you're not even an afterthought to her?

Eventually, you cough as her secondhand smoke enters your lungs, and her brown eyes dart back to you, like she's just now noticing that you're still in the room. She crouches down to your level, observing you like some kind of unidentifiable bug in a mason jar. Taking the cigarette out of her mouth, she blows a cloud of smoke directly into your face, just to watch you wince and hold your breath, not so eager to ruin your own lungs. You hear her chuckle.

Before you can snap and ask what her problem is, you feel something searing your shoulder, small but agonizing. You yelp, flinching away from whatever it was. "What the fuck?" You exclaim, noticing remnants of ash on your burnt skin. Your jaw drops in realization, glaring up at her in disbelief. She's smiling like it's funny.

"Somethin' to remember me by." Jamie says, as if you ever could forget her. You literally work together every day. Her illogical reasoning only pisses you off more as your wound throbs, hot and irritated. "The fuck is wrong with you?" You scowl. God, she's more malicious than you initially thought.

Shrugging, she drops the cig onto the floor so she can stamp it out under her boot. She hardly finished it. You suspect using you as an ashtray is the only thing she wanted to utilize it for in the first place.

You fucking hate your co-pilot.

—

[callme-holly]

hi pretty !! i hope ur doing well and are having a good start to the new year 💋💋

i'm not sure if ur still taking requests. but if u are taking requests and aren't busy, could u pls do the outsiders x reader when they’re angry w reader ? i feel like dallas would be so hot when he’s angry ngl (but that’s just my opinion)

thank you !! 🫶🫶

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝

𝐚/𝐧: the way i need to write fics for this...

Darry Curtis:

Darry very rarely gets mad at you, but when he does, he can act quite brash. He won’t yell or make a big deal out of the situation; it’s more of a quiet frustration and also a little bit of disappointment if you two have had an argument. He’ll give you some space to start with, distancing himself, and the tension between you both will be pretty thick and uncomfortable. When he does finally speak to you, he’s blunt and pretty firm with his words. It’s not that he doesn’t mean them; he just wants to make sure his message gets across to you so that the problem doesn’t happen again.

Sodapop Curtis:

Soda doesn’t get mad at you very often; his anger certainly doesn’t stick around for very long, but when he does, it stems more from hurt than frustration. He’ll turn a lot more serious, quietening down and only giving you short, brief answers. He doesn’t like arguing with you at all and hates when things are tense or out of the ordinary between you both. It won’t take long for him to cool down and talk it out with you, solving the issue and brightening up once more. 

Ponyboy Curtis:

Pony’s anger is a lot quieter and tends to simmer below the surface. He’ll try and hide it; he won’t ever yell, but the way he pulls away from you says everything. If you try to speak to him before the problem has been resolved, his words are clipped and a little snappy. Despite his frustration, he won’t hold a grudge against you for too long. After you’ve given him some space to think things through, he’ll come around and talk to you about the issue when he’s ready. 

Johnny Cade:

When Johnny gets upset or angry with you, he’ll go very quiet, retreating in on himself a little. You’ll find he tries his best to avoid you, not wanting to stir up any unnecessary confrontation and definitely not wanting to start an argument with you, though his quietness doesn’t make his frustration any less intense. Once he’s had some time to think, he’ll apologise to you, even if he hasn’t done anything wrong, and will sit and talk it through with you, nodding along and listening to everything you say. 

Dallas Winston:

Dally’s anger comes out hard and sharp, and when he’s mad at you, he doesn’t hesitate to let you know. He can be very brutally honest when he wants to be, and sometimes his words can cut a lot deeper than he intends them to, which more often than not results in a pretty heated argument. He’ll storm off, needing the time to cool off, but deep down he knows he was harsh, and he cares too much about you to leave things in a rough patch. He won’t ever apologise outwardly; he does it in his own way and much prefers to use actions over words.

Steve Randle:

Steve’s anger is very hit or miss. When he gets upset, he’ll either yell at you or go deathly quiet, choosing to give you the silent treatment until he feels ready to face the problem. He isn’t great when it comes to emotions, so if you try and solve the issue before he’s properly processed it, he’ll be incredibly snappy and a little upfront. However, once he’s gotten it off his chest, he’s incredibly apologetic and will do anything to make it up to you. He’s a firm believer in talking things through, even if he isn’t great with words, and he’s willing to listen to everything you have to say. 

Two-Bit Mathews:

Two’s anger is usually fuelled by a build-up of frustration that just gets tipped over the edge. He can be rather dramatic about the issue, making a bigger deal than it actually is, but he can also get incredibly serious, and that’s when he starts to get snappy and blunt. It won’t take too long for him to cool down, and when he does, he’ll try to lighten the mood, clinging onto you and mumbling apologies in between little kisses. He doesn’t like being upset with you and doesn’t like when you’re upset with him, so he’ll try and fix it as quickly as he can. 

[starguardianniom]

Fair enough. But still, also love, because Gabriel did love his wife, and Marinette... yeah that's more obsession than anything else, you could say it's love, but hers is really an obsession down to science, and since she's not getting therapy anytime soon to get some serious help about it given she kinds of needs it since her love problems stem from a traumatic event I can't ship her with anyone, and I absolutely refuses that she dates Adrien after season 5 and the London special. She took the easy route and I honestly hope it will blow in her face and that Adrien will have the self respect to break up with her and never take her back after that. Nobody twisted her arm to make her choices, she decided on her own. Gabriel isn't there to force her, he asked her to and he's dead so he's no longer in position to do anything about it but she still chose to respect his wishes, and I cannot forgive that because he doesn't deserve it, the world doesn't deserve to be lie to about it, and Adrien doesn't deserves the lies either, also because it will come to screw him over in the future most likely because Lila/Cerise/Iris is still around and she could take down Marinette's lies. And honestly I hope she does because Marinette lying to the whole world about Monarch, I'm sorry but that makes her an even bigger liar than Lila at that point. She's the hero of Paris, she's not supposed to side with the local magical terrorist just to spare his kid's feelings and avoid another kid to have her mom send to jail, sure it sucks but their parents are evil and really needs to be stopped. Marinette shouldn't be the one to decide about abusive parents, the situation with Chloé proved she is completely incompetent at dealing with those, why on earth did she think she would do Chloé a favor by having her make up with her abusive mother who had no qualm about insulting her on live television and is half responsible for Chloé being the way she is (as she is imitating her mother) I honestly cannot fathom how she thought Chloé would get better having a second toxic parent around to enable her worst behavior.

Anyway rant over yeah love is pretty much obsession in this show unless you're a background character...

The Power of Love in Miraculous Ladybug

It's bad.

Legit bad.

Just in the opening song, you hear: "The power of love always so strong!"

More like always so strong at creating all the problems in the freaking show fr.

Gabriel is Hawk Moth just to get the miraculouses to save his wife, so he is motivated by love.

Marinette legit screwed herself up in 4 of the 5 seasons finales because of love.

And that's not getting into all the akumas she caused just because she was so caught up in her own feelings that she screwed over other people or just ended up hurting other people's feelings in her wake.

The world legit ended because of her love.

Also had to reset an entire timeline too because she couldn't stick to her plan the moment she learned Adrien was Chat Noir.

Let's not forget how the show portrays Marinette's love of Adrien, via stalking, knowing everything in his schedule for the next 3 years, planning his birthday gifts for decades in advance (and apparently having weird gifts too since she threw one of them in the trash once she saw Adrien's confused reaction to it), getting jealous of any girl getting close to him to the point that she once teamed up with Chloé to get Kagami away, and Kagami had done nothing to deserve being humiliated publicly like that, even worse is that the year before Marinette got humiliated b Chloé in front of a guy she liked by said guy she liked which started her whole obsession about Adrien later on which just makes her a double hypocrite in Animaestro.

Marinette treats Adrien more like a prize than a person, you're not gonna make me believe that everything she knows about him is stuff she learned from him by talking to him, please, given how she could barely speak to him you really think she would pull this off? Pretty sure she just researched him online, at one point she pratically begs Nino to tell her what Adrien finds funny.

And yet not once does she consider if Adrien would actually have a word in their relationship, she called him her Adrien as far as season 1.

Meanwhile, Gabriel loves his son but also emotionally abuse him, and also gets physical with him once he learns he's Chat Noir, he yeeted him to the Eiffel Tower, I never forgave him for that.

He also loves his wife, but he also ended up losing his one real chance at bringing her back just to get back at Ladybug, so you can say his love wasn't enough anymore.

The Power of Love was motivating him until it changed to obsession at revenge with Ladybug.

Now I wonder what's it's gonna take until Marinette realise her love for Adrien is her downfall. So far it screwed her over everytime more than anything else, it's not her strenght it's her biggest weakness that brings out the worst in her, and it got brought to it's height in the season 5 finale and the London special.

Lying to the whole world about Gabriel just to spare Adrien's feelings because Gabriel asked her too, especially after everything he did to him, to her and everyone else? Yeah, no.

It just traps Adrien more.

It's disgusting.

The Power of Love is the biggest evil in the freaking show to the point it's its own character.

Lila wish she could be just as bad.

Maybe she will be able to show us.

And with how season 5 ended, I'm wondering how The Power of Love is gonna do, probably do even more damage.

The Power of Love shown by the main protagonist and the main villain is the most terrifying thing ever in the show.

[starshideurfics]

Off the deep end - part two

part one

Wet dreams are super common for both alphas and omegas in the months post-presentation. Omegas usually have it worse even though no one talks about it as much.

But Steve’s pretty sure he’s an outlier.

He only had a few bad nights at camp, but once he’s home it feels like every other night.

And the dreams he can remember are intense—blood and fire, teeth and claws, all turning soft and sweet, dark chocolate eyes and callused fingers. He wakes with soaked pajamas and sheets, his pussy aching to be filled.

He’ll use his fingers, try to find relief, but it’s never enough.

Usually, nights after he’s seen Eddie are less intense for Steve, like he’s sated the animal part of him that cries for its mate. At least a little bit.

A part of him—that same animal part—loves it, that his body knows what it wants and takes it. He wants to roll in his soiled sheets, make his scent as strong as possible, rub his slick into his skin to draw his alpha to him.

But a much bigger part of him is annoyed. His mother insists that he do his own laundry when it comes to this, that he keep his space neat and clean if he still wants to be allowed out of the house.

This has him washing his sheets constantly, defaulting only to his white sheets, the acidity of his slick bleaching the color from anything else.

Which leaves him with two sets that he rotates through, his laundry needs slowing down his mornings and often making him late to meet Eddie.

And when Eddie asks, Steve is honest. It earns him some *very* heavy petting and the closest to dry humping that Steve can feasibly manage. They remain fully clothed that afternoon.

It starts Eddie’s mind turning, searching for a solution, and he happens across it in a slightly racy fantasy novel. He presents it proudly to Steve in the week before school is set to begin again, placing soft, quilted cotton into his hands.

“Eddie, what is this?”

“A bed pad. I guess they make disposable ones now, but I figured a reusable one would be better for you.”

Steve flushes all the way to his ears. Bed pads aren’t talked about much, mostly gifted to newlyweds for use during heats. Which has him thinking about heats. About sharing his heat.

About Eddie sharing his heat.

Steve slicks so much that it overflows his pad, and Eddie’s nostrils flair.

“You got a rubber?” Steve asks, knuckles white as he grips the bed pad, nosing at Eddie’s neck.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, hands on Steve’s hips, holding him close.

“Good.” Steve drags Eddie to the nearest restroom, they fuck, and he changes his pad before they leave the stall.

💦💦💦

Steve’s first heat after he presents should be tolerable. Nice even. His mother says early heats are easier—less painful—to trick omegas into thinking pregnancy won’t be so bad.

Steve figures no matter how bad pregnancy is, he’d get a baby at the end. A pup of his own, his and Eddie’s.

Which he knows is stupid. He’s not even 16 yet, he doesn’t want a baby right now.

He just wants his boyfriend to knot him through his heat.

And he knows his parents would never let him, not if they can help it. That’s why he’s been making plans, talked with Eddie about saving up for a heat hotel.

Steve has his allowance, even though his father threatens to cut him off every time he catches Steve with Eddie upstairs.

And Eddie has a job, helping out at Thatcher Tire, so one of the cheaper rooms is perfectly within reach.

The only problem is early heats are unpredictable. It can take a few years for an omega to settle into a regular cycle. Some omegas go an entire year after presenting without a heat. Some will have a weak heat barely a month after presenting.

Steve’s doctor had warned him that his situation meant his heat was likely to come in the fall—having a compatible alpha around would help his hormones settle his cycle.

He just didn’t count on it hitting over Thanksgiving break.

His parents are home all week—no business meetings or holiday travel because his mother’s parents expect them on time for dinner on Thursday.

Too bad Steve would miss it.

Steve is tired on Wednesday, not having slept well the night before, so Eddie gives him a ride home from school, and instead of making out in his newly-acquired, but still old van, Steve nuzzles against Eddie’s hair and nearly falls asleep.

Eddie practically carries him to his front door.

Then he goes straight up to bed, falling asleep in his clothes, content to snuffle against the t-shirt he stole from Eddie’s room the last time he was over.

Steve sleeps for 13 hours.

When he wakes, his skin feels too tight, itchy and sticky as he struggles out of his clothes.

His panties cling to him, absolutely drenched with his slick. Only then does he feel the deep ache between his legs, how his blood must all be in his pussy, his labia puffy and sensitive.

A keening whine escapes his throat, crying out for help—for Eddie—but all he gets is his mother.

“I could smell it on you this morning, and I pulled the phone from your room, so don’t even think about calling him,” she says through the door, voice tight. “Without an alpha, you should be through it by tomorrow morning. I’ll bring you leftovers from Nona’s”

“You’re leaving?”

If they leave, he can call Eddie. It’s like she’s forgotten there are other phones in the house.

Steve forces himself to his feet and wobbles over to the door. His stiff fingers close around the knob, but he can’t get it to turn.

It won’t turn. He’s locked in.

“Mom?”

“Steven, you’re staying in your room. Dad is staying home, and I won’t be gone long. Kisses.” He can hear her on the stairs.

Steve tries the knob one last time before sobbing as he sinks to the floor, overwhelmed as he peels off his wet panties, and grinds against his hand, needing relief.

But relief doesn’t come.

His only relief is Eddie. He only wants Eddie. Instead, he pants and cries, aching and horny, fingers going pruney in his pussy, his floor covered in slick by the time his heat breaks 17 hours later.

His mother hires a steam cleaner to get it all out of the carpet.

💦💦💦

Eddie meets Rick at Thatcher. He drives like an idiot, needs things looked at regularly, but he’s easy-going. Friendly.

When he sees Eddie on a smoke break, he asks to bum one. It turns to casual banter, which turns to Rick asking why Eddie’s got this after school job, what with Al’s reputation.

Eddie bristles, but Rick laughs, says he’s impressed that Eddie bother’s with grunt work, that Wayne must be a really good influence, and how much does he make? $3.45 an hour isn’t anything to sneeze at, ‘specially not for Eddie, being so young.

“But you could make 10 times that, working for me.”

Rick ashes his cigarette and quirks his brow, waiting.

“Like hell I could,” Eddie scoffs.

“More even, if you put in the effort.”

And $3.45 an hour is more than minimum wage, more than Eddie expected when he was hired, but he only gets 10 hours a week.

He’s not stupid. He knows what Rick does. Knows what’s being offered. Wayne wants him focused on school, on doing better for himself than any other Munson has managed.

But Eddie already has. He’s got Steve, his scentmate. And he’s gonna take care of him.

Besides, even if Steve doesn’t care much about popularity, he still gets invited to Loch Nora parties. And by extension, so does Eddie. In one night, he could make months worth of his pay at Thatcher.

He could get Steve something real nice with that kind of money, go on a lavish date night with a little sexy something for after…

And he can still work at Thatcher…

He just can’t let Wayne know. Or Steve.

Steve was so proud when he got his job. Not that Steve would care, he and Steve have gotten high together, just once, and he’s been so sweet and floaty in Eddie’s arms. But Steve’s parents, if he knows, and they find out that he knows, they’ll flip.

Eddie drops his spent cigarette on the pavement and grinds it out with the toe of his work boot. “Okay, what do I need to do?”

“Swing by my place this weekend, I’ll get you set up.”

💦💦💦

The first Loch Nora party Eddie deals at is Alex Thompson’s Halloween party.

Steve does shots with the swim team, and again with the cheerleading squad, then grabs a solo cup of jungle juice. Eddie nurses a single Budweiser all night.

So, Steve is loose and distracted, dancing every time someone comes up to Eddie looking for weed or acid. He moves his customer to the corner, exchanges his goods for cash, and threatens each of them with being cut off by every dealer in town if they mention any of this to Steve.

Eddie leaves around midnight a few hundred dollars richer, with a cuddly, sleepy Steve hanging off his shoulder.

The cuddliness lasts until Eddie gets Steve home, the omega promptly puking in the driveway, multicolored liquid splashing on the pavement and over Steve’s shoes. Snots runs from his nose and he coughs, whining, “Eddie, never let me drink again!”

“Oh, Puppy, it’s okay,” Eddie soothes, rubbing his back. “Let’s get you some water and an aspirin.”

By the time he has Steve tucked into his bed, it’s after 1AM. Wayne expects him home, not trusting the shit teens get into on Halloween, wanting him safe. But Steve won’t let go of his hand.

He cries when Eddie stands up, and he’s too worried about Steve dehydrating himself more that he kicks off his jeans and crawls into the bed to spoon up behind him.

“I’m here, Puppy. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.”

💦💦💦

Wayne grounds Eddie for a week when he gets home in the morning.

Not that grounding him does much. Eddie still goes to school. He still goes to work. He’s allowed to go to Hellfire because he runs the game and that’s a responsibility. But he isn’t allowed at Steve’s house, or band practice.

And Steve shows up at the trailer after school, and Wayne isn’t trying to punish Steve. (He should be, in all honesty, if he knew how drunk Steve got, just to further drive home how stupid binge drinking is.) Wayne lets Steve come in, telling him he can stay until 8, but Eddie’s grounded, they can’t go anywhere or do anything or even watch tv.

Most importantly, they aren’t allowed to hang out in Eddie’s room.

Steve doesn’t care. He just wants to be with Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t really care either. It’s a pretty light punishment for breaking curfew, all things considered.

The following Friday, Eddie takes Steve on a date to the drive-in.

They see Creepshow, and Steve spends the movie half-hiding against Eddie’s shoulder, his sodden pad crinkling in his panties every time he shifts in his seat. Eddie focuses on the movie—he wanted to see it after all—and has an arm around Steve’s shoulder, hand playing with his tit.

The credits roll, and Steve climbs into Eddie’s lap, licking into his mouth. “Can we go to something with less death next time?”

“Of course, Baby.” Eddie slides his fingers into Steve’s hair, and pulls him into another kiss. “And I got you a little something, as a thank you for going to my horror movies.” Eddie reaches into his pocket, pulls out a box. A jewelry box, long and thin. “I’ve been saving up for a while.” Which is true; it’s just his new revenue stream moved up his timeline on affording it.

Steve opens the box, revealing a simple, gold bracelet, the chain links a bit more robust, a little gold heart near the clasp. “If you want something else, we can exchange it, but I thought I could add to it as we go, tell the story of us…”

Steve plasters their lips together, overcome with desire. He grinds down on Eddie’s lap, waking up his cock. “It’s perfect.”

Eddie carefully clasps the charm bracelet around Steve’s wrist, and kisses him tenderly.

Steve crawls out of his lap, whispers, “Take me home.”

He and Eddie fuck in his bed, then again in the shower, falling asleep with their hands clasped together over Steve’s heart.

💦💦💦

[flo-zoinks]

How would each gang member react to being bitten. Like not sexually just fucking CHOMP. and how would they taste

Seriously ya'll in my inbox are FREAKS. but it's a good thing I love my freaks❤🌟

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU BIT EACH RDR2 GANG MEMBER AND HOW THEY TASTE (NON FREAKY) (MY OPINION)

Also I haven't bitten that many people b4 so the 'taste' will be very unrealistic also cuz imma have fun w it

(ONCE AGAIN ASSUMING UR LIKE JOHN IN TERMS OF SEX, AGE AND REPUTATION IN CAMP AS REACTIONS CHANGE GREATLY)

Hosea - hit you over the head with his newspaper rolled up. "Did nobody teach you any basic decency? ...No I suppose not, thinking of." Not much to taste I think you'd just hit straight bone past skin that tastes like those milk sheets that forms above milk when it's hot

Arthur - generic ARGH SHIT WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU. Probably tastes like a raw beef with cilantro on top.. or venison perhaps

John - "Normally when Pearson's food is too bad again I hunt you know. Animals, not people." Then pushes you away to the ground before quickly leaving to check you didn't just give him an STD or rabies. Tastes like if an animal roadkill was cooked after in a southern heatwave.

Javier - kicks your ballsack then immediately leaves to see if you'd damaged his clothes past repair (courtesy of Tilly if repairable). Then goes back to jump your ass where camp can see you as a warning - though just out of Dutch and Hosea's eyeline

Uncle - "YOU WEIRDO. I KNOW I GOT SOME MEAT ON ME BUT IT DON'T MEAN I'M A FREE BUFFET. Clearly you got enough to eat already by the looks of you anyway!! But if you really wanna eat something.. (he moons you) HAVE THIS". Tastes like a 2€ chicken tikka masala from a pub.

Abigail - slaps you REALLY hard with like instant memories to her working girl days. Tastes like a vegetarian BBQ dish

Jack - will sob immediately REALLY LOUDLY, then bite you back and adopts a behaviour of biting others who he's annoyed at (Abigail HATES you now). Tastes like sugar and chocolate.

Dutch - kicks your leg then laughs as Micah makes a show of being about to bite YOU back when you fall. Probably mostly worried over the fine material you've now damaged and tells you to leave for a bit. Tastes like big game meat, however very dry and sprinkled with nicotine(?)

Molly - hits you with her fan, tells you that you have to pay for her material, and same as the last ones tells Dutch for him to just say 'it's a friendly joke woman', then cries thinking everyone hates her in private later. Tastes like unripe strawberries when they are still quite hard but good nonetheless

Grimshaw - slaps ur face and then later gives you an openly aggressive book on manners in front of female company. Tastes like a week old ham sandwich

Karen - If drunk, punches you. If not, just shoves you and tells you to piss off you creep. Tastes like an alcoholic bonbon

Tilly - kicks you, then tells Javier or Arthur who have a bigger problem with that then if you'd done it to them. Talks shit about you to miss Grimshaw and the other girls (-Abi, Sadie and Molly) so now you're about as popular as Micah with the women in camp. Tastes like mint chocolate chip ice cream that's still a little to frozen to eat.

Bill - says hes grossed out, then INSISTS on biting you back. If he does, he says he didn't do it as hard as you did now he has to do it again. "Bill stop it was 4 months ago it was a joke". Tastes like cooked meat left unattended in a moist basement for a week and a half.

Mary-Beth - looks at you MORTIFIED. However having probably had an experience like this before with a creep shes quick to kick your ballsack and punch you square in the nose, (surprising?). Tastes like frozen Bubu Lubu

Reverend - assumes its because you have a problem with his injections in his arm you try to show it by chomping it. Backs away almost SCRAMBLING in panic, and tells you come to him for an exorcism should you come to your senses anytime soon. Tastes like an expired rum raisin very dark chocolate bar

Trelawny - "goodness, I've met my share of people, from here to the exotic lands of France, and never met such a specimen like you." He leaves camp for another 4 months after this. Tastes like white sauce on gammon

Pearson - thinks it's because his food isnt ready fast enough, so just shoves you away saying "yes I'm cooking as fast as I can, you could've told me in a normal way though". Tastes like a Mushroom and meat kebab

Sean - hits you away, and tells you that you're a little strange for him. Then tries to scare you away by acting like hes gonna bite you back.

Lenny - "Pearson's food ain't that bad, how hungry are you Erysichthon?" However he does make himself look bigger holding his shotgun as a deterrent, (he does not plan to use it at all). Tastes like just above medium quality meatballs and gravy.

Strauss - yelps quite high pitched, makes a show of berating your lack of civilisation, then promptly sets far from camp clutching his book. The place is camp he makes sure is near either Lenny, Dutch or Arthur in case you try again. Tastes like a raisin.

Sadie - she is NOT holding back, or atleast until Arthur, John or Charles (probably all 3) have to hold her back. Makes a show of cocking her gun whenever you make eye contact now. Tastes like an incredibly stiff bull meat from a bull fighting ring

Charles - "get off me don't do that. What's wrong with you" after a small disgusted glance he does back to doing whatever he was doing and ignores your antics. Tastes like prime ribs

Micah - if ur not a minority (he blames it on that if you are) or a woman (he'd openly probably say he likes it) he grabs your collar to try threaten you again to do that. Gets like super close and you can hear that loud ass breathing. Then drops you in front of everyone and loudly announces that's what happen if someone else tries to mess w him (he gets judgy looks). Tastes like stiff lamb chops with a lot of salt.

Kieran - looks at you MORTIFIED. doesnt make much of a show then and goes to the edge of camp, but at night when you sit in the camp with others he suddenly gets a fit of passion and rants at you for still attacking him for being an O'Driscoll. Then the next day he's to embarrassed to face you. Tastes like roasted potato with a bit of pepper.

Yes the taste is unrealistic lmfao (i mean most people taste very similar just small boring differences like I'm not making blood glucose levels heacanons💀). Who did I forget ??? THANKS FOR ASKING ME BOO XX AND WHAT DO YALL THINK???

[make-friends-with-the-rats]

Take this yap card!!

Feel free to yap about whatever in extensive detail:)

:O

for me?

I'll spare you Victor Hugo level yapping on some random subject and instead talk about how the musical adaptation of newsies took something away from every major character from the original.

Now, I've said several times before that I do not have any hate for the newsies musical and I really do mean it. If you've been here for a while you should know that I really do love the uk production and tutsies, but ultimately I prefer the 1992 movie. Really, I just think that Harvey Fierstein ran into the exact same problem in his adaptation that Kenny Ortega did two decades prior: newsies is just too complex a story with too many multifaceted characters to fit comfortably into a two hour runtime.

I think Fierstein tried too hard to make it fit and in the process had to cut important aspects of several characters. Namely: Jack, David, Medda, Sarah, Denton, Racetrack, and Crutchy. (For now we'll skip over the fact that most of the original ensemble was replaced.)

Beginning with the most obvious cut, Sarah and Denton were replaced with Katherine Plumber/Pulitzer. I personally really love Katherine as a character in her own right, but I think the issue with her replacing Sarah and Denton is that she is an attempt at combining two characters who serve two very different purposes. And the purpose that I think Katherine ends up serving turns out to be something very different too.

Denton is more than just a reporter who decides to report on the newsies strike, he is representative of all of the real adults who supported and aided the 1899 strike. If you aren't too familiar with the history of the 1899 strike, the newsboys' rally at Irving Hall was literally sponsored by the NY state senator, Timothy D. Sullivan (who by the way had once been a newsboy himself). The newsboys (and girls) had a lot of support from adults, and Denton in the film is helping the newsboys not because he's itching to further his career but because he truly believes from the start that the strike is an important story worth writing about. Yes, he gets reassigned and 'betrays' the strike, but he never stops encouraging the newsies to fight for their cause even when he feels he himself no longer can.

Denton is also very important in David's development as a character because Denton's betrayal (which comes before Jack's) is what really forces David to lead and to stop relying on other people to speak for him.

Sarah's purpose is to connect the strike to the other child workers (though admittedly, this isn't very well executed.) Sarah is the one who, in the aftermath of Jack scabbing and in the middle of her brother's anger, discovers Denton's article and becomes a catalyst for the Newsies Banner. It is she who realizes that the strike is so much bigger than Jack and her brother and she who understands it's impact better than anyone else because she's seen both the impact of child labor (being a newsie was actually a pretty good occupation in comparison to the jobs and working conditions of other kids) and the passion that Jack and the strike inspires first hand.

Again, Sarah's role in the film isn't as fleshed out as it should have been because so many of her scenes were cut, but when you fill in the blanks with context clues or by looking back at the scripts and what was cut, the purpose of her character becomes clear.

Keeping all of this in mind, Katherine isn't an adult like Denton and she isn't a child worker like Sarah. Katherine is very different from the both of them and brings an entirely different purpose to the story simply because she is her own character. And this isn't a bad thing by any means, but the meaning that Denton and Sarah brought to the story is lost by not including them. Katherine doesn't really 'replace' Denton and Sarah. So, to get the most out of Newsies, it shouldn't be Denton and Sarah or Katherine. It should be Denton and Sarah and Katherine.

Moving on to Jack and David, what these characters lose in adaptation is pretty similar. Jack visually loses his cowboy hat and bandana which might not seem like a big deal, but it is when you consider what these things represent. Jack's dream of Santa Fe in the film isn't about Santa Fe at all and Santa Fe itself is simply a form of escapism. It's a child's dream. The idealistic dream of a boy who's lost his family and is running from both his past and his fears. Jack also loses his moral ambiguity. In the musical, Jack isn't lying about his name or his family. His family hardly ever comes up and he freely tells Crutchie about his dad. In a way, the musical doesn't let Jack be a child. And not just because he's played by a grown man.

The musical sets Jack up to be misunderstood, he stole food and clothing to help his friends and dreams about Santa Fe because he wants something more out of his life. Yeah, that's fair. That's actually really darn reasonable. Jack isn't a scared little boy anymore, he's a young man who acts with a degree of maturity and clear moral intelligence. I don't like that change.

To me, Jack is seventeen and he feels trapped. He feels like he's suffocating. He has no family and he's left vulnerable because of their loss. 'Cowboy' is a façade to hide his fear. The musical just doesn't portray this as well as the original did.

David also loses a kind of childishness in the musical. Musical David (or Davey) scolds his brother for not wanting to go back to school/thinking being a newsie is better than school. Meanwhile in the film, Mayer Jacobs scolds David for expressing a similar sentiment. Maybe this change was simply to compensate for the exclusion of Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs and somebody had to say that David and Les were going back to school for plot reasons, but it's still at the expense of David. David isn't a parent. At the youngest he's fifteen, and at the oldest he's seventeen. He should be allowed to be selfish. He should be allowed to daydream about leaving school behind and doing something significant, or of being the 'man of the house' like his father. David should also be allowed to get angry and the musical robs him of that opportunity. Katherine's 'betrayal' doesn't effect Davey the way Denton's did and from what we see Jack's betrayal didn't effect him much either. He's disappointed, but he's not allowed to lash out. He's level-headed and reasonable and he knows that the show must go on. He isn't allowed to be impulsive, he isn't allowed to make mistakes, and he isn't important enough for other characters to have to earn his forgiveness.

Now you might be wondering how Medda's character loses anything from film to musical. First, we have to agree that there are really two Meddas. The first Medda is 'Miss Medda Lark[son/in] the Swedish Meadowlark' and the other Medda is the lady behind the stage name.

When Medda is on the stage, she's simply putting on a show. That's her job, after all, and we see this in both the film and the musical. What changes is the Medda we see in between her performances. Both Meddas very clearly care for Jack and the newsies and they are both given moments to show this. However, like the loss of Denton, the musical doesn't give Medda a moment where we see the injustice of how other adults treat the newsies in comparison to Medda. There's a heartbreaking scene in the original film where Medda, in the chaos at the rally, slaps a thug who's attacking Racetrack before she's dragged off the stage and out of harms way. "He's just a child! Can't you see that?" she screams. It's a case of an adult defending the newsies and shows us that these other adults are in the wrong. It's a small thing, but we just don't have an equivalent scene in the stage adaptation. Medda very clearly supports the newsies, but she's never given a scene that lets her directly challenge the adults who are actively harming and silencing the newsies, and I think that's a loss.

Finally, Racetrack and Crutchy(/ie) are both watered down. Racetrack's snark and serious side were projected onto the stage character Albert, leaving Racetrack himself to be mostly portrayed as comic relief. His older brotherly attitude towards Les is also lost.

Crutchy also looses his snark. His is more subtle, but it was still important because Crutchy isn't just a happy-go-lucky ball of sunshine. Remember when Crutchy snarked the Delancey brothers? Remember when he spat in Snyder's sauerkraut? Remember when he told Snyder to make friends with the rats? He also loses the line "I don't want nobody carrying me. Never, ya hear?" It's so important that Crutchy had pride, that he didn't want his friends to pity him or treat him any differently because of his disability. It's so important that his friends respected him and never did, even if they were just trying to help out of love for their friend. It's so important that Crutchy was defiant, that he fought back in his own ways.

There's just so much that wasn't included or explored in the stage musical in regard to the primary characters and it leaves them with less of themselves.

[erinyesofvengeance]

A/N: wanted this to be a drabble but accidently made it into a pathetically short one-shot with a shitty plot and even shittier ending... anyways, enjoy!!

THINKING ABOUT Peter Parker having a big fat crush on you, to the point where he's tripping over himself the moment he sets eyes on you.

Sure, you two have been closely knit friends since you two were in the first grade; instantly hitting it off when your teacher, Mrs. Evans paired you two to create a marshmallow tower. But ever since sixth grade, he hasn't been able to look at you without spontaneously combusting on the spot.

And now, here he was, in grade eleven, still having not improved at all. You were somehow tragically oblivious to his obvious crush on you. Despite falling flat on his face whenever you came near him, turning a pretty shade of bright red when you tucked your hair behind your ear, and becoming a blabbering mess whenever you would talk to him, you were still somehow his closest friend.

Now, this teenage crush troubled Peter as much as it would trouble any normal 16 year old boy. Obviously, he liked you. Obviously, he wanted you to like him back (despite you already doing so). But it wasn't of big concern to him, as he had bigger problems to deal with. Such as being spiderman.

Here he was, swinging around New York City because some a few random thugs decided it would be a wonderful idea to try and rob a bank minutes before his meetup with you at the corner cafe. He could see it, two or so blocks down the street he was chasing one of the escaped thugs down. He really hoped the thug would turn down the next street, as he had no intention of meeting you in the suit. It would be an absolute nightmare. But his prayers went unanswered as the thug crossed the intersection, continuing down the street as he fired poorly aimed gunshots at Peter.

"S-stay the hell away, you freak!" the thug yelled.

"Nah, I'd rather not."

Peter's heartbeat starts to beat faster as he begins to freak out. He could see you as you stood up from your chair at the outside of the cafe, cup in hand. The thug frantically looks around before laying eyes on you. Your eyes widen as you quickly stand up, attempting to run away before the thug grabs you by the hair, pulling you towards him and aiming a gun at your head.

"If you don't let me go, I'll kill her!" he screams desperately.

Audible gasps and screams can be heard from the surrounding crowd as you're held at gunpoint.

Peter freezes immediately, his heart palpitating as the thug digs his gun into your head. He can see the fear in your face as he shakes, sweating profusely.

"Okay man, just let her go," he says, his voice trembling.

The thug pushes you onto the ground and then runs away. He doesn't get far, however, as Peter fires three well aimed webs at him, trapping him against a streetlamp. Peter's knees weaken while making themselves towards you, and a sudden onset of nausea hits him as he makes himself towards you.

You look at him, your eyes wide as if you're only now realizing that spiderman is right in front of you.

"Hey, you- you okay?" Peter stutters.

Your jaw drops as you instantly recognize his voice.

Peter gulps, realizing his mistake.

"I mean-" he clears his throat, gruffly muttering, "you alright, ma'am?"

You can only stare at him, your jaw still dropped and your eyes wide with disbelief.

"I'm, uh... gonna go." Peter immediately swings out of the situation like a pussy. He figures he's screwed anyways.

[ivorydice]

Torn between feeling incredibly amused and kinda bummed out that an old screenshot of mine that people reposted around is now on some officially licensed collab clothing thing. Like. Aww. But also lmaoooooooo.

[arthursfuckinghat]

I know the gang cares about Arthur and they knew his sickness was serious and it's part of the narrative and whatnot, but really would it have killed them to just offer the occasional "is there anything you need Arthur?" or "anything we can do to help?" or even "how are you feeling today?" - I'm sure Arthur would rather be pestered slightly than have his rapid illness get straight up ignored yknow?

[mokeonn]

Before I go to sleep I leave you all with this piece of advice: sometimes you don't actually have to answer big political questions, sometimes you can just say "I am not smart enough to know that, I just know the small things I do to help." Like you can often times completely avoid making a fool of yourself if you just say you don't know.

[ra-vio]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[miodiodavinci]

i saw that you used to hint at oc stuff on twitter (don't ask me why im digging im looking for zola stuff lmao) why don't you post more about them?

i am simply terrified that if i post oc things online someone will steal the concept and run with it faster and better than i ever could have and then i will be devastated forever and ever

more seriously i have very little to show for any of my oc things (adhd brain making life difficult as per usual awawawawawa) and every time i've shared oc things in the past i've ended up never following up on it and it makes me feel bad and guilty so i've just convinced myself i will Never talk about my ocs until i have something substantial i can put out there

[pa-pa-plasma]

one of the things that will always destroy me is people believing that good story = darker/more mature/more sexual. this belief has ruined so many stories that could have been amazing & has prevented almost everyone from enjoying other really good stories simply because the age range it's aimed at is one they believe can't have complex themes, characters, plot, etc etc. they don't believe they can be moved by something a publisher or studio decided is for kids & so write it off without even thinking about it. biggest curse of being a writer who actually loves stories & telling them is that literally no one else cares in the most pessimistic, higher-than-thou, capitalism brainrot way you can imagine. & it's all automatic. because that's just what you're taught.