#mayonnaise cw

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Where does mayonnaise come from? Can it be canceled? (Asking for a friend)

We have an actual record of this one, here’s a translation of the original Minorca Chronicle from Louis des Balbes de Berton de Crillon’s journal after he invaded in 1781:

"The fort has surrendered but many rebels are still entrenched in various caves across the island. We have burned over one dozen powder caches and taken numerous prisoners. While exploring the northern cave under the Ramis oak tree, we discovered a pungent aroma believed by our guard at first to be rot, but later identified to have emanated from a pale cream which in turn was oozing forth from the backmost northeast walls.

"We spoke to members of the former fort of Ramis and his son, who directed us to the Caldés family. Their patriarch explained that the cave had always dripped with this substance since his own ancestors found it in the early 1620s. They recorded that the substance was organic and indeed, even edible, though only a few his own family found it to be a pleasant flavor.

"We gathered two stuckfasses of the substance, one of which we have sent to King Carlos and one which we have held in the fort to conduct studies upon. These studies have thus far shown the substance to be high in fat, with little else but stiff-bile (translator’s note: cholesterol). Some of the men have taken to consuming it on their sandwiches, naming it for the Mahón shore, as “Mahonaise.”

"I sent Pasqual to excavate the area and discover the source of the Mahonaise, and when he did not return, Sergio took a party to discover him. Though they did not find Pasqual, they did find the wall of Mahonaise breached, and inside they found the remains of a crude settlement with a bed and several manuscripts, all of which contained pornographic woodcut imagery of colossal demonic beasts. Sergio surmised that the substance was indeed the seminal emissions of several such demons.

"I have not had the heart to inform the men who enjoy this substance on their sandwiches, so I have ordered the galley to replicate it as best as they can using eggs, spices, and oil. The men do not seem to have noticed and thus, are returning to their families in Spain with much “Mahonaise,” unaware of the dubious origin of the legitimate substance."

Modern Mayonnaise producers have thankfully found the original demon beasts again and all Mayo sold in America and Europe is the genuine fluid.

And no, it cannot ever be cancelled. It is eternal.

[hot-take-tournament]

HOT TAKE TOURNAMENT!

GREATEST HITS #2!

Submission 77

pizza tastes best when it's dipped in mayonnaise

just try it and you'll see

Submission 517

M&ms are too dry

I put them in milk and eat them like cereal so it’s better

I see some of you not voting! That's cheating!

It's ok if you agree with neither take! Just choose the take you agree with slightly more!

Think of it like choosing the lesser of two evils!

Propaganda is always encouraged, and remember to reblog your favourite polls for exposure!

No, I don't know why it's green.

[sunlightfeeling]

SMAP Dance Time: Pop-Up SMAP (2006)

[jockpoetry]

dinner was 🤌 tonight

[the-technicolor-yawn]

“I hate mayonnaise more than I hate homophobia”

-DJ Qualls, 2023

[onbearfeet]

Unironic props to that one mayonnaise company (Kraft?) that is currently placing a trigger warning at the start of their ads telling people to "avert their eyes" if they don't like seeing a lot of mayonnaise. I know it's a joke at the expense of actual content warnings, but I'm allergic to mayonnaise and the sight of white goop on a sandwich makes me think of various times I've puked up surprise mayo, so the opportunity to look away before the white blob appears is genuinely helpful.

[allthingscons1dered]

As someone who grew up with 5 older brothers, I cannot help but think of how older-brother-coded both Dick Grayson and Jason Todd are.

(A/N: It’s not that I don’t love Tim and Damian also, they just give off more younger brother vibes to me. Also, I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, please don’t hate me if it’s not.)

CW: None, slight cursing.

So I proudly introduce as my first ever post:

Annoying Older Brother!Dick Grayson and Jason Todd Headcannons:

Batfam x gn!reader

Y’all ever come home from school excited for the leftovers that you’ve thought about all day and FIND THEM GONE?!?! Jason ate them. Just to spite you. And he won’t even play dumb about it either. He will admit it so carelessly.

“Did you put your name on it?” He’ll shrug with confidence. He gives no fucks. He needs that caloric intake.

Jason is that sibling who you’ll argue with until you’re blue in the face and then text you 20min later with no explanation, just: “food?”. (Said argument was probably about the leftovers btw).

And you’ll still go get food with him because, well, siblings.

Dick is an older brother in the way he’s not even the tiniest bit nonchalant. He will 100% tell the cringiest stories about you in front of anyone you bring home. Unapologetically.

Or drop you off at school with the most EMBARRASSING song blasting from the speakers. He lives for it.

Another thing about Jason? He will absolutely barge into your room, flex in your mirror, knock shit off of your dresser, throw something at you, and then leave. Completely unprovoked.

He probably even steals the current book you’re reading from your nightstand.

It will return a day later out of nowhere.

Imagine just chilling on the couch, scrolling on your phone and suddenly you’re bombarded with their presence.

“Is that a *boy/girl* you’re texting?” Jason will ask as he looks over your shoulder, knowing damn well it’s not.

But guess what? Denying it would just make it worse.

And of course, Dick would freak out.

Because why would his younger sibling be dating? You’re way too young; practically a baby in his eyes.

In the case that you’re actually talking up your latest crush, Jason would have the following reaction:

“I don’t give a damn who you date,” But give him ten minutes and he’ll hit you with the classic, “so what’s this kid’s name again?” He will be looking them up later.

I think Jason would try to be the brother who acts like he doesn’t care but would most definitely be over your shoulder 24/7 about a lot of things. Dating being one of them.

One time, my brothers shoved me into a box, taped it shut and then set me on the front porch. These two shitheads would do that— or something similar, like hanging you upside down from a grappling hook— and say, “It builds character.”

Ohhhh, that reminds me. You think the two of them are annoying individually. Think of them both TOGETHER.

You try to avoid being around the both of them at any given time, but it’s inevitable.

Like picture yourself coming home after fighting some D-list villain like Condiment King— because of course everyone else was busy— hoping that no one else is back from patrol.

But no! No, no, no. Why would the world ever want you to be so lucky?

In front of the Batcomputer sits Dick and Jason, there to witness your arrival in your mustard-and-mayonnaise-covered suit. Dick will at least attempt to hide the smile behind his hand.

Jason openly laughs his ass off. Tears will be brushed from his eyes as you glare at his shameless reaction.

“Well, I hope you were able to ketchup to him,” Dick cracks with a grin.

The sound of their laughter follows you as you retreat to the locker room, middle finger raised in their direction.

[cattjull]

'𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢— 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙. 𝖎𝖎

bsf!ellie x reader 🤭

PART 1

SUMMARY: "Truth or dare? Kiss me." As you thought, throwing away your friendship with Ellie wasn't as simple as that. If she only didn't ran away... Now what?

CW: r!is afab, alcohol game, smut?, strap use (e! receiving),

A/N: Pls enjoy and sorry for taking so long <3

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you like me?" Your eyes shifted to Ellie's lips for a split second, just a teeny tiny small amount of time which she wouldn't notice since she was so drunk, at least you hoped so. The atmosphere or, maybe, the weather had turned unbearably hot.

"I won't tell you Els." You said, the fact that you didn't want to answer that question said enough itself. You bent down and stretched your body a little to reach the bottle.

You kind of felt relieved to get away from Ellie. Her words worked like spells on you and that, the way she touched you and the fact you were kinda drunk too made you almost confess your feelings to her and, what if she was just drunk and didn't like you? Even worse, what if that happened and Ellie remembered everything next day (there was no way she remembered), what if everything changed?

You grabbed the bottle, directed it towards your mouth and took two sips of that drink that you didn't even like, a trickle of vodka escaping treacherously from your mouth. You wiped it with your fingers, leaving a little of lipstick on them.

"Truth or dare, Dina?" Dina was so shocked by both of you that she almost jumped when you turned towards her.

"What? Oh yeah, dare."

"I dare you to tell some guy here you're pregnant and it's from him."

3 a.m.

"I dare you to kiss the girl on your left." He said with amusement shining in his eyes. Ellie looked at her hands, trying to remember what was her left, and looked at you. Her eyes went directly to your lips and her face turned crimson red.

"What? Why?"

"It's a dare , Ellie." He said shrugging while trying not to laugh.

"You don't get to tell me when to kiss my girlfriend." Ellie said, crossing her arms and furrowing her eyebrows.

"Your what?" You laughed. Ellie then looked at you, mentally debating something. She got close in less than a second, now being inches away from your face. Her hands were on both sides of your hips, the way she was bending over you making you drool.

"Can I, babe? Your lips look- I mean, it's a dare." She was all so flustered, her rosy cheeks glowed and her parted lips hydrated with her transparent lipgloss looked delicious under your gaze. And, wait- what did she just call you? Babe? Well, how could you say no? You both wanted it, it didn't matter if it was just because of the alcohol. It didn't matter if it was a mistake.

You just stayed looking at eachother for a few seconds, doubt glimpsing in your eyes, and hers. What could go wrong? Absolutely nothing. And maybe it was for that four horrible sips from when you were dared to eat a whole jar of mayonnaise thirty minutes ago, but kissing Ellie seemed like a good idea. A really good one.

You leaned in closer, feeling her minty scent now mixed with alcohol. She broke the almost inexistent gap between your lips as she positioned herself close to you. Her lips were wet from the lipgloss and yours were a little sticky from your lip oil and the matte lipstick underneath it, her mouth tasted like chocolate and alcohol and you hoped she could feel the vainilla scent from your Victoria's Secret lip gloss: you had put on that one specifically because you knew Ellie loved it. You held Ellie's short hair, tied messily in a half ponytail, and her hands placed on your waist, pulling you closer. Ellie's tongue got slowly into your mouth, and seconds later you were devouring eachother until you felt two hands from the same person who dared you to kiss separating you.

"Okay girls, that wasn't in the script." You suddenly shifted your gaze to Lacy, who was frowning with a kinda... scary? expression at her phone whose camera, you were sure, was pointing directly at you seconds ago. It mustn't be it, you thought, and then looked at the guy who caused you and Ellie to pull apart. "Just get a room."

"Very funny, Liam."

"I'm Nate but thanks."

The rest of the night passed with a hint of something between you and Ellie. Plus, you found out Lacy had sent a 45 seconds video of you and Ellie making out to a bit less than half of the people in the party were... enough for everyone to find out.

Now it wasn't just Dina and your best friends (excluding Ellie duh) joking about Ellie and you. It was everyone there in the party.

Half of them suspected before about you being in love just because you were lesbians and the other half didn't even know you at all but just had a gut feeling that there was some chemistry between you. So, under that context, when a video like that is sent to you, how could you ignore it and not tell someone else? It was just the truth.

You couldn't blame anyone, though. In one hour everyone knew you had turned into girlfriends, deciding to reveal your relationship to everyone it in a very public way (nope, that didn't happen) and no one really cared or would remember it in some days but gossip is gossip, and god you just couldn't pull back in that video that lasted like... 40 seconds? It was something scandalous and it felt great to spread something like that, somehow.

After a girl that you were sure she was in the cheerleader team told you she supported you with a sweet smile on her face and exchanging some words and a smile, you said goodbye to your friends and called an Uber: It was getting too late and you were getting too drunk.

You held Ellie's hand and dragged her to the outside of that big house, some guys making jokes and speculating about your destination or what were you going to do later, which definitely (and sadly) wasn't where they thought it was. The warm nocturne spring air stroked your whole body delicately when you opened the doors, giving you an instant moment of relief as your ears enjoyed the outside, much less noisier than inside of the building.

"We're going home, Ellie."

"What? Weren´t you taking me outside to...? Oh, going home. Rightt." Suddenly you had Ellie's arms around your waist, pulling you closer and pressing your bodies together, her face dangerously close to yours with a smug smile as her raspy voice worked like an Aphrodite's spell on you. You felt your face heat up for probably the millionth time this night: Ellie had been way clingier than in any other party binge. You put your hands in Ellie's soft face, letting yourself enjoy her warmness and at the same time stopping her from getting closer; you wouldn't be able to resist the tentation if she did, and in some way this felt wrong.

"Ellie please stop. You'll regret this tomorrow." It hurt you to say.

"I guess I'll wait home." She huffed.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" You sat on the entrance staircase and Ellie did the same.

"I want to talk now." You chuckled.

"What do you want to talk about?" Ellie let her head fall on your shoulder, allowing you to feel her mint scent.

"Did you know that stegosaurus's brain was the size of a walnut? They surely didn't get good grades." She said and smirked, causing you to smile sweetly at how cute she was blabbing about the things she liked.

"You told me yesterday." You leaned your head on Ellie's and, after convincing yourself it wasn't weird and that was a friends thing, you held Ellie's hand.

Both of you stood quietly there with a few cheek kisses and a prolonged hug in between until the Uber arrived around nine minutes later. The Uber was an old men, maybe in his fifty's. He confessed to don't know where your street was and put on Google maps. He was sincere, at least. It kind of reminded you to Joel, conveying a sense of trust through you.

"Are you guys girlfriends?" He asked casually.

"Oh, no no no. Of course not. We're best friends." But we should be girlfriends, though, you thought and smiled.

"Oh, sorry. You just reminded me of my daughter and her girlfriend."

You had some small talk with him while Ellie held your hand, playing with your fingers and discretely kissing really silently your ring and middle ones, a hint you would ignore completely, until you arrived home and paid a bit more than necessary because the man was really nice and it was really late.

You finally entered your house, feeling so tired that you didn't even bother to take your makeup off. You just went upstairs to your room and put on some t-shirt, an Ellie's t-shirt you ""borrowed"" from her and since you did you used every time you were home, and pajamas shorts, lending Ellie some comfortable clothes too and trying to explain her you weren't going to do ANYTHING with her now because, come on, you almost weren't conscious enough to notice how drunk you were and it should be enough for you to not try anything. But being honest, if you hadn't been tired you probably wouldn't have cared.

You fell on the bed first, moving to the wall side. You were too tired to form a coherent idea, and yet your thoughts still managed to wander around Ellie. It was always like this, but this time after the kiss it was stronger. Ellie, Ellie and Ellie.

Ellie went to the kitchen to drink some water and then headed back upstairs to your tidy room, walking towards your bed with a gait sloppier than usual. As you were almost asleep you didn't notice her getting closer to the bed, nor laying down nor climbing on top of you and kissing your now clean lips shortly, without a hint of boldness despite his dirty comments towards you during the whole night.

Her lips tasted heavenly perfect, like cocktails and vodka, the chocolate taste from earlier had disappeared almost completely from her lips. You opened your eyes, surprised, as Ellie looked at you with an equally intense and tired gaze.

"I love you." She whispered with that velvety and husky voice of hers that drove you crazy every time, her breathing got more shallow.

"I love you too but it's late, Ellie." Ellie smirked lazily and you pushed her, moving her to your side. She turned her back to you, knowing your next move. You hugged her, placing your head in the gap between her neck and her shoulder. The ends of her silky hair made your neck itch a little but you didn't mind right now. All you cared about was being close to her, sleeping with her, feeling her skin and her body merging with yours.

She let out a soft sigh, as if your mere closeness relieved her. Her hand positioned over yours, intertwining them. Both of you stood like that, silence accompanying the moment. Ellie fell asleep: you knew it because her heartbeat started slowing down as well as her breathing. You kissed her neck and closed your eyes until you lost you lost consciousness in a deep (and drunk) sleep.

11:21 am

You felt your head was going to break into a million pieces. What the fuck did you do last night? Before opening your eyes, you try to figure out where are you. You smell Ellie's perfume and a sudden sensation of relief comes to your body and leaves as fast as it came as soon as you remember the kiss.

Oh my god, what did I do? why did I even- Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Ellie moving. She stretches a little and probably remembers a bit of last night because she mutters an ‘oh fuck-’ and gets up slowly, taking your hand away from her waist and trying to not wake you up.

You barely open your eyes, enough to blurrily see what is Ellie doing but not for her to notice you're awake. She gets dressed with her clothes from last night, puts her phone in her pocket and opens the door. But no, she can't leave just like that. She then turns around and walks towards you, kneels next to your bed and watches your face for a good two minutes, now you completely close your eyes.

"I love you and I'm so sorry baby." She finally whispers. Baby? Again? Well, maybe it wasn't just the alcohol. Right? "I know you don't want this." She kisses your forehead slowly, unable to pull away from your skin and say goodbye and you feel like someone has just set a fire on your cheeks and your whole body as well as Ellie stands up again, ready to leave. She gives you a last look before closing the door behind her. Now that Ellie's gone, you're fucking mad. Not just at you, for kissing your fucking best friend and stuff, but at her for leaving like that after everything.

It would have been awkward to talk, but probably better than not saying anything and pretending she didn't even come to your house in first place. You can't help but burst into tears, getting out of bed just to hold the dinosaur stuffie Ellie gave you like two months or so ago that was resting in your desk. It had been hers before she gave it to you and it smelled like her, so everytime you missed her it rapidly became a habit that you would hug it until you fell asleep.

You go back to bed and cover yourself with the sheets, with that cute stegosaurus's teddy wrapped in your arms like it's your baby and their tail between your legs. You cry because you're scared.

Your white pillow has blue stains from your eyeshadow and your tears add some wet grey to the picture but you couldn't care less. Not now.

You lay in the side of your small bed where Ellie had been before, no sign of her warmness now, feeling her heavenly perfume impregnated in the sheets, and you inhale deeply, filling your nostrils with Ellie. Just Ellie. Just pine, mint and chocolate. Just her.

Maybe Ellie never loved you in That way? People became flirty when they were drunk. Maybe that was her case. But no, she just said she loved you and called you baby. But she did that sometimes. But maybe it didn't mean anything for her.

What was next? Should you pretend that kiss and all the stuff from last night you didn't even try to recall never happened? No, you remembered there was a literal video of you making out like your life depended on it in your gallery and probably—no, definitely, in hers too. Maybe apologize? "Hey Ellie, sorry for kissing you!" Nah, you're not even sorry.

You wanted to ask her why did she leave like that but that would be so awkward for her and for you too. You kept overthinking until you accepted you wouldn't fall asleep again so you hold your phone which is on the night table. You had some messages from Dina and when you answer, she immediately texts back.

Dina😍

(10:10 a.m.) So?

(10:10 a.m.) Any news abt you and Ellie?

(11:27 a.m.) She left without saying anything

(11:27 a.m.) I pretended I was asleep.

(11:27 a.m.) I shouldn't tell you this but fuck off

(11:27 a.m.) She thinks you'll be mad at her

(11:28 a.m.) do you think she likes me back..?

(11:28 a.m.) It's not impossible

(11:28 a.m.) Does she likes me back*?

(11:29 a.m.) Confidential.

(11.29 a.m.) Just give me a hint?

(11.29 a.m.) Ask yourself

(11.30 a.m.) You were such a good friend.

(11:30 a.m.) Right?

(11:30 a.m.) WERE.

(11:30 a.m.) Ugh fine

(11:30 a.m.) MAYBE she feels something

(11:31 a.m.) WHAT?

(11:31 a.m.) I LOVE YOU

(11:31 a.m.) DINA I LOVE YOU.

(11:32 a.m.) I'M GONNA MARRY YOU.

(11:32 a.m.) What about Ellie ☹️

(11:32 a.m.) Both.

(11.32 a.m.) Well said

(11.32 a.m.) I love you

(11.32 a.m.) Yeah love you too

Els pretty

(11.35 a.m.) Ellieeee

(11.35 a.m.) Weren't you at my house?

(11.35 a.m.) I hallucinated if not.

(11:36 a.m.) I WAS TOO EMBARRASED

(11:36 a.m.) AND I RAN AWAY

(11:36 a.m.) Sorry for kissing you and stuff

(11:36 a.m.) Awwwww

(11.36 a.m.) Fuck

(11.36 a.m.) you.

(11:36 a.m.) Whatever

(11:36 a.m.) I'll watch the video

(11:37 a.m.) NO

(11:37 a.m.) ELLIE

(11:37 a.m.) Come on it's embarrassing

(11:37 a.m.) You aren't watching it

(11:37 a.m.) Right?

(11:38 a.m.) Ellie?

(11:40 a.m.) WOAH

(11:41 a.m.) WDYM WOAH

(11:41 a.m.) I took the first step🥺

(11:41 a.m.) You're being creepy.

(11:41 a.m.) 🥺

(11:41 a.m.) Watch it

(11:43 a.m.) 🤯

(11:43 a.m.) 😎

(11:44 a.m.) 😎?

(11:44 a.m.) I'm the good one kissing here

(11:44 a.m.) Wanna find out?

(11:44 a.m.) Again?

(11:44 a.m.) Ha. Ha.

(11:44 a.m.) Not funny.

So, Ellie wasn't escaping from you because she didn't like that kiss or because she wanted to be away from you, she was just scared, as Dina said. You unconsciously stopped crying but, as your hangover wouldn't let you do much, you tried to sleep again. This time it was easier: Ellie liked that kiss. She wasn't mad. She wasn't trying to make you feel bad.

The only thing on your mind now was, she didn't mention anything about a relationship or anything serious. How would you know if she wanted something with you? How many times had you thought about it in the last few days? Would you be friends? Would you turn into something more? Okay, stop thinking about it now. Something casual? You didn't want something casual. Because not even the word is really good. Casual. Casual sex. Sounds like the name of a lipstick shade. Doesn't sound well. You want something serious. With Ellie, your girlfriend Ellie. Not casual sex like the lipstick. You don't want something casual.

You were on top of Ellie, kiss stains all over her neck. It looked so pretty in that red tone of your lipstick. Her face looked so pretty full of your signature. Her pink and pretty nipples, and her small tits were marked by you too and god, you were strapping her. Fucking strapping her. You held her hips and pushed deep inside of her, making her let out a moan. You pushed again. And again. And again. And again and again and again. Her face was so red and pretty, her mouth opened, letting out your name again and again, each time messier and faster than before, her pretty cunt taking you so well, the sight of it swallowing you would be able to make you cum. You go much faster, and you should be tired but you aren't. "So... Fucking... Ah. Close." She cums, holding your arms and digging her nails into your arms as you fuck her through her orgasm, why can't you feel her nails in your skin?

"Honey, dinner is ready!" Your mom says as she opens the door.

Nice.

Sunday, 5pm.

You were more than excited to see Ellie, more than any other time before. Maybe because this was the first time you went to her house after kissing her, confessing to her and then pretending it was just a joke?

You did the same routine as always you were gonna spend the day at her house. Took a shower, put on baggy jeans, a braless tank top and a black thong you wished, deep down, she took you off. The Victoria's Secret ones, with laces and a small bow. Like, they were the first ones that you found when opening your closet, almost like they jumped to you. Not like you had been looking for them for the past half and hour.

You kind of bathed in your perfume and put on the lipgloss from Friday. As soon as it became a good time to get going, you put on some stuff on a bag and asked your mom to take you there, something she reluctantly gave in to.

"Why you always put on that much perfume when you to Ellie's place?" She laughed.

"Only when I go to Ellie's place?"

"Whenever you're going the same place as her."

"I have no clue what you're talking about." You tried to dissuade her from her suspects.

"I'm your mother." She said, argumenting with the fact she knew you.

"I always put on perfume."

The conversation was left like that, your meddlesome mother always trying to know about your love life. Not something you complained about much, though. You understood that that was her way to show just how much she cared about you.

When you arrived, you greeted your mom with a kiss and went towards the door. You didn't even give the third knock to the door and Ellie was already opening it for you, such a gentleman.

"You're that desperate for me?" You mocked her, wishing she just said yes and kissed you.

"Shut up, I heard the car. And I'm not the one arriving..." She checked the clock she had been gifted by Joel before continuing her sentence. "Twenty-one minutes before."

"I don't like being late." You argued. And no, you didn't if you were going to see Ellie.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure."

6.30 p.m.

"Fuck!" She gasped, clamming her hands into your arm, which was now like Ellie's comfort teddy, for the sixth time or so now.

You did this on purpose. You knew how easily Ellie got scared and everytime you watched a horror movie she got closer and closer with each jumpscare until she was practically clinging onto you. More than half of the movie had passed and Ellie was holding onto your arm and her head rested in your shoulder like you were her mother. Oh, nevermind.

"You're such a baby." You laughed at her, feeling hotter than seconds ago since the pressure in your arm just reminded you of how close you were to your best friend.

"It's a horror movie!" She said, her cheeks tinted pink.

"No, it's It. This is practically a rom-com."

"You're crazy, you're never choosing again." She whined. "You always put m-" You put your hand over her mouth, willing her to stop talking while the movie was still playing on the TV. After that, she could yap for hours.

"Shut up, this is the best part." You said with your fingertips on her lips. Was she using a chapstick? You gave her a quick glance, unable to identify if there was any change in her lips colour since the lights were turned off. The dim light from the TV didn't allow you to see it, but you definitely could see Ellie's face was crimson red as her eyes shifted quickly between your eyes and your hand.

"You're kind of... red." You teased her, moving your hand to her forehead, which presented a normal temperature. She huffed sarcastically in response.

"Watch your movie." She frowned like a mad child and looked away.

"You like me, don't you?" You knew this probably wouldn't end well. Ellie couldn't promise anything to you if you didn't show her you like her and it was the same to you.

"Can you give me a drink? Like, juice?" She ignored you.

"Fine." You got up trying to push away the embarrassment you felt for yourself, your tone coming out of your mouth much colder than you pretended it to.

You went to the kitchen and looked into the fridge for the juice she asked for. She asked for apple juice because it was her favourite one but your favourite one was orange so, of course, she had some of it in the fridge, something that ocassioned a small smile to form on your lips. You picked the small apple juice box and returned to the couch.

"Here." You sat beside her and handed her the small box, and you didn't even get to lean on the back of the sofa because Ellie was already wrapping her arms around your waist, squeezing you like a dog biting a bone. Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched the movie.

"Thanks." She said as she unwrapped the straw and pushed it through the small perforated hole of the box. She took a sip before looking at you.

"Of course." You smiled, not giving it much importance. Ellie put the box in the coffee table and rested her head in your chest again. She probably could hear the earthquackes going on in your heart. You put your arms around Ellie too; your grip was lazy and relaxed, unlike hers.

A scene that would freak the hell out of Ellie appeared on the screen and it caused no reaction on her. You turned your head to Ellie just to see what's going on and caught her staring at your lips; she immediately averted her gaze to your eyes.

"What?"

"I still think about it."

"About what?" You felt your cheeks boiling and melting in your face.

"Friday."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to kiss you again."

You sighed.

"Where is this going, Ellie?"

"Where?"

"Yeah, where. In case you don't remember, you got drunk, kissed me, flirted with me all night, in the morning you ran away and acted normally as always and now you say you want to kiss me?" There you were, throwing all the truth you had been hiding to the trash.

"I'm just confused." She muttered, looking away from your eyes.

"That's the problem. I'm not and you keep playing with me." The words slipped from your mouth and you held Ellie's arms trying to get rid of her embrace but she was stronger, her gaze piercing you.

"No, no, I mean, I'm not confused, I'm just... scared of losing you. But I can't keep doing this. I like you and you keep acting like that... You're the one playing with me. Straddling me just 'so do my eyeliner better', telling me you love me, hugging me all the time and then all the jealous thing with Lucy. Do you think I didn't notice what you were doing?" All those words came out from her mouth so fast that her lungs didn't have enough air and her face turned completely red, and if she had kept talking, she would have been blue.

Did she just say she liked you..?

"Her name was La-" She liked you.

"I don't care. What the fuck are we? What do you even wanna be?" She liked you. Her worried eyes were like lasers penetrating yours, demanding an answer from you. Yours darted to her plumped lips. What would her chapstick taste like?

She. Liked. You.

Your hand went to her soft cheek and you asked her with your gaze for her permission, your breathing turning heavy. You interpreted the response in her tough gaze as a 'yes, please.'

You cupped her face and pulled her in softly, scared of breaking the delicate situation between you, of destroying what you had in one move even if you had just told all the truth to her and nothing happened.

Her lips tasted like cherry. Delicious, sweet, wet. Just as in the other night, your mouths fitted perfectly in eachother's, there was no room for something else than being closer and closer with each second that passed by. The movie was forgotten long ago as you kept her close until your lungs started asking for some air and you pulled back, gasping.

Ellie smiled, her face had a shade of pink and she looked cuter than any other thing you have ever saw.

"So, we're..." Her green eyes shined with a mix of hope and anxiety as never before as she waited for your response.

"Girlfriends?" Ellie giggled at that, scratching her left ear.

"Yeah. it's official now."

Taglist; @warmdragonfly @sleepy-sheep-things @mamixdanni @marrycv @seraphicsentences @boobdrug @lyssaspengler

[mountainsandmayhem]

Wonderful Tonight

Marcus Pike x Pregnant Female Reader - 18+

Summary: Marcus Pike takes care of his very pregnant wife, shaving her legs (and more) and then treats her like the delicious meal she is. CW: pregnancy, shaving, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected p in v (you can't get pregnant while pregnant, but all of you better be wrappin it up!), praise, pet names (baby, honey, etc.), multiple orgasms. This is fluffy romantic smut. AN: I write one piece with feelings and suddenly I'm Mrs Romance over here! I gotta say that I'm falling deeper and deeper for Mr Marcus Pike, JUST LOOK AT THAT FACE!!! I feel like their wedding song would have been Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton, hence the title. Thank you @syd-djarin for reading this over for me. @survivingandenduring, I'll be waiting for my edits lol. Dividers by @saradika-graphics Word Count: 3.9k

A faint groan stirs Marcus awake, he takes a few seconds to fully come to, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Trying to listen for that sound again, unsure if it was a dream or not. He reaches across the plush white bedding of the king sized bed looking for you, his beautiful and very pregnant wife, only to find the bed empty. 

Usually, worry and panic would rush through him if you weren’t in bed, but you appear to be in your nesting phase and it hasn’t been unusual in these last few weeks for him to find you rearranging the nursery or ordering more things off Amazon at strange hours. You also seemed to have the strangest midnight cravings, like mayonnaise on ice cream, or there was that night he walked on you about to take a bite out of a kitchen sponge. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and stretches, looking over at his alarm clock. 2:56 am. 

The sound of you huffing and grunting floats from under the door of your ensuite bathroom. You sound like you’re struggling or in pain and adrenaline courses through Marcus as he hops up and rushes to the door. His mind racing to calculate the number of weeks pregnant you are and if it’s too soon for you to be in labour or not. 

He tries the door handle to find it locked. “Babe?” He calls, rapping his knuckle in the door gently. 

“Sorry. I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” you call back, your voice seems off like it’s laced with discomfort. It immediately sets his teeth on edge, you’re not fine, and according to his quick math you’re also at a point where you could go into labour and even though the baby would be a little early, they’d be past the danger zone and the baby would most likely be ok. 

“Please open the door. You don’t sound fine.” He says softly, pushing the panic down like the trained FBI agent he is. 

You’re quiet for a second before responding in a more stable voice, “Everything is fine. I’m sorry I woke you up.” 

“Are you sure everything is ok?” He asks one more time, he knows your stubborn tendencies and how it usually takes him to ask three or four times before you give in. 

It’s silent again behind the door. Just the sound of you huffing like you ran a marathon before a sad little ‘no’ leaves your lips. It simultaneously sends him into fix mode and breaks his heart. He hears your bare feet pad across the tile floor followed by the click of the lock. 

He cracks the door slowly to come face to face with you in just your sports bra, naked from the ribs down. Your legs are slathered in raspberry and tangerine scented shaving cream and you have a purple razor in your hand. Your cheeks are pink with frustration and the exertion of trying to bend down. Your hair’s piled on top of your head, a few loose strands falling and sticking along the nape of your neck. 

He leans his toned bicep against the doorframe, only wearing his tight black boxers, then crosses his arms and looks at you tenderly. His voice is soft and full of love as he says, “Oh, sweetie. What are you doing?” 

The tears of frustration start to pool along your lash line. “I’m gonna give birth and I can’t be a Sasquatch, but I can’t bend over without feeling like my lungs are being crushed by my giant belly.” 

Marcus cups your face, wiping away the stray tear and bringing your eyes to his. “Honey, you’re not a Sasquatch. And even if you were, they’re doctors. Come here,” his hand trails to the nape of your neck and he pulls you gently into him, wrapping both arms around you and tucking your head into his neck, “They’re not looking at your leg hair. They’re focused on you and the baby.” 

You relax into his arms, belly pressing against his abdomen comfortably. “I can’t go into labour like this,” you say, anxiety wavering in your voice. 

Marcus drops his arms from your body and slides past you, slipping his boxers down before stepping into the large, glass walled shower. He turns the nob that controls the rainfall shower head and crooks his fingers at you as a silent call to walk to him. 

When you reach him, he starts to unzip the front of your sports bra. “What are you doin’, Mr Pike?” You say softly over the soothing sounds of the shower, watching his thick fingers pull the zipper down. 

“I’m shaving Mrs Pike’s legs,” he says as you look back up at him. His chocolate brown eyes soaked you in and made you weak in the knees. 

“Marcus, you -“ he cuts you off as your sports bra hits the floor. 

“I promise to love, cherish and treasure you,” he starts, lightly pulling you into the shower. He always recites his marriage vows when he can sense you’re about to fight off his help. His way of reminding you that he wants to be there, wants to care for you. He continues his speech as he leads you to the wooden bench, “In all circumstances; good or bad. Forever. Without hesitation or keeping score. From this breath, until my last breath, you are my wife, my love, my partner, and my equal.” 

He steadies you as you sit before taking a knee in front of you and smiling up at you sweetly. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. It’s the middle of the night and this incredibly sweet man doesn’t even question or fight you. Just supports and loves you with his whole being. “I don’t deserve you.” 

“Baby, you’re growing a person for us. You deserve so much more,” he holds his palm out and you place the razor in his hand. His other hand wraps around your swollen ankle lifting it to rest your foot on his knee. Before you can say much he starts making slow, gentle strokes of the razor up your leg. 

You’re both silent for a moment, him lost in the sight of your soft skin as he shaves your leg, you lost in him and the way he’s looking at you as he drags the sharp razor so tenderly across your skin. The steam from the shower wraps around the two of you, encasing you in your own little cloud. The rest of the world and all your worries are temporarily blocked out until all your thoughts are just Marcus. Sweet, loving, emotionally available, Marcus Pike. 

He reaches for the detachable shower head and drizzles warm water down your shin and calf, using his free hand to rinse away the excess shaving cream. You go to move your leg away but he grabs your ankle to keep you there. After switching off the water he puts it back and looks up at you, placing a light and lingering kiss on the inside of your knee before placing your foot back on the warm tile floor and grabbing the other ankle. 

The shaving cream has washed away from the steam and backsplash from the rainfall behind Marcus, so he grabs the bar of soap and lathers up your leg. You watch again as he focuses all his attention on carefully shaving your other leg. Using the same little strokes, rinsing the razor more often than you would if you were doing it yourself. 

After rinsing off the excess soap he glances up at you. “Better?” He asks soothingly. 

“Ya,” you say, trying to convince him that your legs were your only worry, but he knows you better than that. He knows that when you flick your eyes away from his and your spine just slightly stiffens you want to ask something but are afraid or nervous to. 

“Honey, what else do you need?” His hand kneads the swollen and sore muscles of the calf that’s still propped on his knee. 

“Well…” you trail off as you start to blush. 

“Mrs Pike. Are you going to ask me to shave your pussy?” He says with a devious little grin. Eyes lighting up like a horny teenager, placing your foot on the floor. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say quickly. “I’m just worried that -“

He lightly covers your lips with his palm and Reminds himself to stay calm. he’s thought about how sensual it would be to shave your most delicious areas, but he knows you have some insecurities about body hair, and he didn’t want you to think you had to be clean shaven for him to find you sexy. Because truthfully, you could be a Sasquatch and he’d still want you. “Oh no, baby. I want to. I really REALLY want to.” 

You lightly kiss the inside of his palm as he smiles hungrily at you. Just as your insecurities start to cloud your thoughts Marcus places his hands on your belly and rubs gently. “For the record, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, clean shaven or not. I love the taste of your pussy when it’s like this, it’s sweeter and feels soft against my skin. Plus, I love the way you cry out when I tug on it. So don’t think for a second that my excitement over getting to shave her means I prefer it that way. I don’t. Ok?” 

You crash your lips into his, tangling your fingers through the slightly outgrown hair at the nape of his neck. He tastes like toothpaste still from before he went to bed as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, his soft wet tongue swiping against yours. The two of you stay like that for a while. Lazily making out in the middle of the night in the shower. His hands trail from your belly to your back, gently massaging the muscles of your lower back and then your hips. 

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you catch your breath. “I’m going to get a new razor and your special shaving cream. Ok?” 

You nod against him. “Are you ok on the bench, honey? Do you need a towel to sit on?” 

“No, I’m ok. We can move if the ground is uncomfortable, Marcus.” He’s always beating you to ensure the other is comfortable. 

“Be right back,” he winks. You watch him walk out of the shower to the vanity. The water droplets on his back run down the toned and slender muscles that line his back, they catch in the curve of his ass before running down his tight cheeks. You find yourself squeezing your knees together at the sight of your naked husband. He truly is so beautiful, inside and out. 

He slips back into the shower and kneels before you, sitting back on his heels. “Slide to the edge, baby.” His hands come to your hips, guiding you forward. He licks his lips and looks up at you through his thick lashes, big brown eyes dancing softly around your face. “Spread your legs for me.” 

Normally, saying something like that would sound dirty, or like a command, but it floats gently over the splash of the shower. Soft, caring, and so sweet that you melt back onto your hands, parting your knees wide for your husband. His eyes glaze over slightly as his lips part, your glistening soft folds on display for him. He blinks a few times and takes a slow breath, reaching for the shower head again, cupping the water in his hand and drizzling it along your pussy. The breath catches in your throat, something about this feels incredibly sensual, and it doesn’t help that Marcus is looking down at your pussy like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Is the water ok? Not too hot?” He asks. 

How did you get so lucky, but more so, how did anyone divorce this man in the past? 

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” your voice waves, it’s breathy and full of arousal. He blinks up at you and smirks. He knows this is turning you on, and he plans to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as possible. 

He applies the cream and grabs the razor, popping off the flimsy plastic guard before getting to work. His hand rests above your mound, pulling back gently to make the skin taut. He uses little strokes, rinsing the blade between each swipe of the razor. You close your eyes and let your head fall back as he continues. Once he’s removed all the hair from the top, he rests his hand on the now smooth skin just above your clit and gently pulls back. A soft whimper passes your lips, he’s so close to your most sensitive spots. But he said he’d help you shave, so he continues, swiping the razor in the same short strokes down one lip, and then the other. By the time he’s done, your breathing is rapid and shallow. 

“You doing okay up there, baby?” He asks, placing the razor on the bench beside you. 

You moan a soft ‘mmmmm-hmm’ as he reaches for the detachable shower head. You open your eyes, watching as he tests the water on his hand and wrist before holding the stream over your pussy. You gasp at the feeling of the warm water pressure flowing over your now swollen clit. Marcus smiles up at you, the dimple on his cheek forming and setting you on fire. He clicks the button on the side of the shower head, increasing the water pressure and holding it closer to your core. 

“Marcus,” you whimper, leaning back further. Gravity lolling your head backwards. 

“That’s it. Just relax, honey.” He says in a hushed voice, his free hand gripping and massaging the soft skin of your inner thigh higher and higher until he’s at the top. His thick middle and ring fingers coming to tease around your entrance. 

“Oh god. Please, Marcus.” You say through bated breath. Your swollen breasts and belly rise and fall with your pleas. 

He dips the tips of his fingers inside you, feeling your walls pulse and flutter. Taking his time to slowly fuck his fingers into you, inch by inch. Slowly. Lovingly. All while watching how you react. Watching the way your mouth falls open, eyebrows raising slightly, lips going soft as you moan his name. 

Once his fingers are all the way, he curls them forward just as he clicks the button on the shower head, increasing the water pressure to its highest setting. You let out a long, husky wanton moan that echoes off the black tiled walls. “Cum for me, baby.” 

Your legs start to shake, as your body almost launches you towards your release. Every muscle seems to go slack and it waves through you, pleasure reverberating from your aching clit, spreading to every cell in your body. 

“Marcus. Oh fuck. Don’t stop, Pike. Please.”

You feel lighter, even as your heavy belly bounces as you grind shamelessly into Marcus’s palm and the spray of the shower head. He feels the grip of your slick walled pussy start to relax as you crest over the edge of your orgasm and start to come down. He pulls the stream of water away from your clit, the warmth of his large hand cupping you, his two thick fingers still working you slowly to the bottom of your high. 

“You’re such a goddess, baby.” He says proudly. The praise wraps around you like a warm blanket as he slides his fingers from you carefully. “I wanna take you to bed and watch you do that again.”

You find the strength to arch your neck forward and look at him. You smile sleepily and nod, allowing your beautiful husband to take your hand, shut off the water, and lead you to bed. Before helping you climb in, he moves his hands to cup your face, placing his lips against yours. His chest rumbles with a content sigh as your tongue swipes hungrily along his soft bottom lip. One of your hands scoops under your belly, lifting it to relieve the pressure on your lower back, the other reaches for his hard cock. You grip around the base gently and stroke him slowly, matching the energy of the kiss. 

“Mmmm, I like that baby,” he says between kisses, “But I’m not done with you yet. Let’s get you into bed.” 

You climb in as gracefully as possible, praying silently that you don’t look like those sea lions that you watched on your honeymoon in Alaska a few years ago. You lay down on your back as Marcus climbs on top of you best he can, stretching to keep kissing you, doing his best not to put any of his weight on your bump. This position immediately puts pressure on your body, making you feel short of breath. 

Your hands push at Marcus and you sit up slightly, seemingly fighting for breath. “Ugh,” you groan frustratedly, “I can’t breathe like that. I’m sorry. This is so unsexy.” 

“Unsexy? I’m rock hard for you,” he says, looking down and then back at you with a smile. “You lay how it’s comfortable, how about that?” 

“Pike, I’m only comfortable on my side with that crazy pillow under my leg.” You say, defeated and anxious. “I need you though.”

He thinks for a second, chewing his cheek as he surveys the pillows available. “Ok, what if you lay on your side, bottom leg straight, top leg hooked up and resting on the pillow?” 

You smile at him lovingly, “Is that really gonna be sexy?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more turned on by anyone in my entire life. You’re glowing. I’m amazed by you every day.” He fluffs the pillows around you as you turn away from him, bending your leg up as high as your belly allows. “Is that comfy, baby?” 

His fingers trace up and down your spine slowly as your body starts to sink and relax into the soft mattress. “Yes,” you whisper. 

His lips come to your neck, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, down your neck and then along the top of your shoulder, fingertips swirling along your back and ass cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning at his sweet caresses. His lips continue to kiss your skin and down your back, as he spins his body so his feet are at the head of the bed. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says into your skin between kisses. “So strong. So selfless. I love you so much, Mrs Pike.” 

Your whole body seems to tingle with anticipation of where he’s going to kiss next, you feel his hair tickle the inside of your top leg as he maneuvers his head between your thighs. You lift your leg higher, desperate to feel his mouth on your already sensitive pussy.

“Please, baby,” you gasp, arching your back slightly. “I need you to…” 

His warm soft tongue licks a slow and teasing stripe from your asshole to your clit. A tortured moan leaves your lips, hips bucking into his face. Marcus lets out a silent laugh at your reaction. He’s always loved how your body responds to him. The very first time he made you cum, both of you still fully dressed as you made out, hips grinding into his as you shook, he knew that he wanted to see that for the rest of his life. 

“Good girl, let me taste it.” He laps at you again, still just as slowly but with more pressure. Asshole, to entrance, to clit. Once. Twice. The third time his thumb comes to press into your now dripping pussy, tongue flicking around your nub slowly and with perfect pressure. 

“You taste so good,” he moans between licks. “Such a good girl for me. You’re gonna cum soon aren’t you?” 

“Yes. Yesss. Don’t stop, Pike.” He doesn’t stop, he never stops. Not until you’re either begging him to or you’re pushing him away. 

“Never, honey,” he mumbles into your wet folds, and that’s when the tight elastic behind your mound snaps, and you cum hard and loud. Your inner walls grip his thumb tightly, pulling it deeper. 

“M-Marcus…hnnggg…oh my god. Yes.” You’re lost in the euphoria. Every ache and pain from your pregnancy is temporarily erased and replaced with nothing but pleasure. Sparkling, warm pleasure.

It slowly starts to become too much, slipping into overstimulation. “Marcus. Stop, baby.” He’s always in tune with your body, his thumb already starting to slide out, tongue replaced with light kisses. 

You whine as he pulls away, already missing him and the intimacy. “Please fuck me,” you say over your shoulder, his blown out coffee coloured eyes almost black. He slips his body alongside yours, the arm closest to the mattress slipping under your head. He grips his dick with his other hand, pumping it while running it up and down your slit, collecting your arousal. 

“Ready, baby?” Marcus asks, kissing the top of your shoulder. 

“Just fuck me already!” 

If you weren’t pregnant he’d flip you onto your belly and drive into you, probably pull your hair and tell you to cut the attitude. But he knows he has to be gentler right now, so he slowly pushes the thick head of his cock into you. Inching in slowly, almost punishingly. “Don’t be a brat, baby. You know we have to be softer right now.” 

You wiggle your ass back, trying to get more. You need all of him. When he’s finally seated all the way inside of you he holds still, sucking on your neck. “Be good, or I’ll just stay like this all night.” 

“No, please, baby. Please move.” Your belly makes forward movement impossible so you’re just pinned between your bump and Marcus. “Pike, please.” 

He quickly pulls back to the tip and then slides back in. You cry out into his bicep. “Again. Please. Again.” 

“Fuck, I love it when you beg,” he whispers, fucking in and out of you a few more times. It’s deep and slow, always with a little extra punch of his hips at the very end. “Sound so pretty when you moan for me.” 

You reach down to rub your clit, him encouraging you with his words. “That’s a good girl. Touch yourself for me.” 

It doesn’t take long before you’re both on the edge, ready to tumble over together. To get lost in each other's pleasure. He moans deeply in your ear, whispering praises as you cum on his cock, holding off as long as he can before you feel his warm spend fill you. You’ve completely melted for him, unable to move or keep your eyes open. You both lay quiet, his softening cock still buried inside you, breathing heavily together. You both drift off, spent and happy and so unbelievably in love that it’s hard to believe something like this can exist. 

Marcus wakes up a few hours later still inside you. He slowly slips himself out, peels his body away from yours and tucks the blankets around you. He leaves you a little handwritten note that he’s going to get French toast and bacon from your favourite place. 

Ya, it’s definitely hard to believe that a love like this is yours. 

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag

@pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes

@jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey @iluvurfather

@ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[satorisoup]

ᰔ A KISS FOR A KISS ft. kenma kozume

ʚ CW : first kisses. sfw.

ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ

it’s valentine’s day, a holiday for the celebration of love, and today your boyfriend only had one thing in mind.

he was going to kiss you.

it has been almost 8 months since you and kenma kozume had become official, and you still have yet to get to first base. kenma curses himself for the awkward timid personality he was given since birth, as it really would not come in handy when it came to the physical part of a relationship.

kenma never would have thought he would be the one wanting to initiate a kiss with you, but at this point, he really couldn’t help it. every time your hands would come to stroke his hair with that sweet, small smile on your face, or the hugs you would envelope him in whenever you had him in your sight, even the nervous blush on your cheeks when you would lace your fingers with his, all of it had him in a battle with his own desires, to just lean in and leave a little peck on the soft lips that adorned your lovely face. but no, it never seemed like the right time, or the right place, it just didn’t feel in character for him to do that out of the blue.

today, this changes. february 14th, kenma was going to kiss you before the sun set to bring another day. and he swore, he would die before he allowed himself to wimp out again. there’s no room for shyness.

the first half of school had rolled around, and kenma had surprisingly held your hand in the halls, which was more-so unlike him given how usually uncomfortable he is with pda. you shook it off though, given it was an important holiday for you two, and perhaps he just wanted to make it all the more special, to which you were extremely grateful.

no, this wouldn’t be the time to kiss you. it was too early in the day. he should wait until it’s less crowded and he’s more prepared.

kenma waved at you when you had walked into your class, a soft mumble of “see you at lunch.” you smile and hold a thumbs up before you make your way to your seat, kenma walking off to his own classroom.

eventually lunchtime had come, and you both sat in a nice corner of the courtyard, pretty pink lunchbox with yummy foods sprawled out in front of you. you gingerly chewed on the small heart shaped sandwiches you had packed, and kenma ate along with you, hardly audible hums in appreciation while munched on one himself.

“do you like it, kenma? the heart cutters made them so much cuter!”

he nodded his head while he shortly answered, “yeah, they’re good.”.

well, he couldn’t kiss you now. you were both eating lunch, and that would be kind of gross for you to get the taste of mayonnaise after a kiss.

kenma’s procrastination eventually led to the school day ending, and he wants to punch himself in the gut for not taking the opportunities he had, wussing out for who knows how many times. you meet up with kenma by the school gates, voice cheery as you tell him how excited you were to spend time with him. you’re smiling, and kenma has the slightest hint of pink on the tips of his ears as he listens to you talk. though, he isn’t particularly paying attention to what your saying, but rather staring at your lips as if they’re holding the universe themselves.

there’s a brisk, cold breeze but the sun is shining like no other today. the walk along the path to kenma’s home is lit with golden yellow hues that beat down from the sky as the sun begins to slowly decend from the horizon. beams of light frame your face, voice blurred from his pure focus and kenma thinks that he might be living in a movie while he watches you, then your lips, you, and your lips again.

would now be a good time? there’s no one around. would you say yes? maybe you would run away. what if you got freaked out? how should he say it? should he just go all in and skip the romantics? no, it needs to be special. maybe he should wait-

no. he’s put this off for far too long. 8 months too long. and as his teammates would say, no matter how much he despised the word in its entirety, he needed to use some guts.

kenma starts to gather every ounce of backbone he possibly could have in his body, he had to do it now and there was no wimping out this time. he had a mission, and he was determined to actually accomplish it. he’s prepared enough, he thinks, when he turns to you to speak up for once in his quiet life.

“can i-“

“kenma, would you like some candy?”

he was hushed before he could get a full syllable out, putting a pause on his impulses to bob his head yes.

kenma observes you while you’re rummaging through your schoolbag, reaching in to a small pocket before pulling out a piece of hershey’s cherry kiss chocolate. your hand stretches out towards his opened one, and before you drop it into his awaiting palm, you pull back.

“well, you can have this candy, but on one condition… im offering you a trade!” you announce.

“uh… what is it?” kenma asks you, voice low and tone a hint of confusion.

your hand unravels once again to reveal the small chocolate kiss in the crevices of your hand, making a show of the small treat.

“a kiss…” you pause, and kenma can feel the anticipation build up within him while he waits for you to finish your offer.

“for a kiss.” you point at your lips with your index finger.

kenma can feel his insides combust into a million pieces, his calm, collected demeanor is slightly faltered with the way his eyes widen, dumbfounded while his heart beat quickens to a rapid pace.

he looks at you in silence, admiring the red blush on your face that’s so obvious, you could camouflage with a garden of tomatoes. you’re nervous, and even so, you’re smiling at him with that same precious grin, and the same pretty, pink lips that have practically screaming “kiss me!” in his ears all day.

“okay.”

before you’re able to register kenma’s compliance to your trade, he’s unable to keep himself back anymore. his hand awkwardly grabs hold of your wrist, candy dropped to the floor when he collides his lips with yours. they’re soft and cherried in flavor, he deems, reveling in the feeling he’s been waiting to experience for what seems like forever. he holds the small kiss for a few seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away. gone were the previous cowardly attempts and failed opportunities, because kenma finally finds the guts this time to ask,

“can i have another?”

and kenma knows, kuroo was never going to let him live this down.

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

Hi there!

I saw that your requests are open :D

May I ask for hcs or a little scenario, if you wish, of how Swiss and Mountain would react to seeing reader (he/they pronouns, if possible) up really really late because of nightmares and insomnia? I’m thinking about fluff and platonic relationships! (Cuddles? Little kisses? Yes please)

Thank you so much for your time and for your writing! writing! 🖤

❝kiss the nightmares away❞

➵ “i’ll be your little sunshine.” —❤︎

pairing: swiss and mountain x male!reader (he/they)

theme: fluff ✿

a/n: first of all, i hope you’re doing well hon, i hope this fic can soothe some potential nerves you have there <3 i hope this fic met your standards. and tbh it can be read as platonic or romantic so i didn’t use the platonic tag

cw: insomnia sucks, that’s really it. swiss and mountain are very caring for the reader here

┅✦┅

his head hurt so much.

normally, the insomnia never got this bad— but tonight was a particularly shitty night. not only was his day at the ministry rather rough, but y/n had just experienced a chilling nightmare that still sent shivers down his spine— which only worsened the effects of their sleep condition.

it was anything but pleasant, but he hates to say that this wasn’t the first time this has happened.

insomnia was a bitch, but they have grown accustomed to dealing with it on their own— even if it sucked.

sighing heavily, y/n’s feet carried him through the ministry halls and into the kitchen, in hopes to find a snack that’ll soothe his mind and hopefully calm his nerves down.

the fridge door swung open and y/n grabbed the nearest thing on the shelf, not even bothering to look at what he had just grabbed— or the label for that matter.

just as y/n was about to open whatever container he snagged— the sound of someone clearing their throat made y/n whip his head around to find the source of the sound.

“you know you’re holding a jar of mayonnaise, right, sweetie?”

confused, y/n turned his head to the entrance of the kitchen, and was met with a familiar multi ghoul leaning against the door frame. swiss, with his arms crossed, looked at them in an almost amused manner.

y/n looked down at his hands to see that he was indeed, holding a jar of mayonnaise. he didn’t even notice, he was probably way too tired to even function. sighing heavily, he opened the fridge and put it back inside.

“sorry, i didn’t notice.” y/n responded, looking downcast to avoid swiss’ gaze

“i can tell.” swiss replied back with a cheeky tone, before he made his way over to y/n. he could already tell something was up.

“so what are you doing up so late?” swiss asked, his tone of voice shifting into a more caring one. y/n didn’t respond, his silence was already a good enough answer for swiss, and the multi ghoul sighed.

“that bad, huh?”

“it’s always bad, swiss. but tonight has just really fucked me over.”

swiss let out another heavy breath of concern, and brought his large, clawed hand to gently rub y/n’s back— who was currently hunched over the kitchen island, head bent down. it was the most he could do to comfort the poor boy.

at that moment, heavy, but gentle footsteps, made their way into the kitchen, causing both y/n and swiss to look over at the kitchen.

it was mountain. he must’ve heard one of them come down to the kitchen. tilting his head in confusion, he turned to swiss.

“what’s going on?” the earth ghoul asked, almost innocently.

“insomnia is kicking y/n’s ass again.” swiss replied back, his tail flicking a bit as he spoke. he then went back to rubbing y/n’s back.

“damn right it is.” y/n groaned out, his forehead resting against the table as he just let swiss rub his back.

mountain just let out an ‘ah’ at Swiss’ answer. he felt bad for the poor boy, he knew how bad insomnia could get at times. all he knew now was that y/n needed some comfort.

the drummer turned to look at the vocalist, and the two exchanged a knowing look before nodding at each other. at that moment, the earth ghoul scooped up y/n in his strong arms, cradling him like a baby— which made them yelp from the sudden change.

“what the—!? hey what are you guys doing??” y/n asked almost suspiciously, wondering what in hell these two ghouls had in mind.

“what do you think, honey?” swiss said from behind mountain, peeking over the earth ghoul’s shoulder to look at y/n. “we’re going to help you.”

it wasn’t long until the trio reached mountain’s room. y/n breathed in the fresh aroma of healing herbs and fresh water, must’ve been from the decorative plants in mountain’s room.

being the gentle giant he was, mountain carefully placed y/n on the center of his queen sized bed, and it wasn’t long until the two ghouls were all over y/n.

swiss was cuddled up on the right side of y/n’s body, his head buried under the curve of their neck, while his arms proceeded to wrap around y/n’s waist and his legs tangled in the other’s. mountain then moved to y/n’s left side, his chest pressing against the smaller boy’s back softly while he draped his long arms over y/n’s and swiss’ bodies to move them closer to him. the earth ghoul’s tail was also wrapped around y/N’s leg affectionately.

the position was… oddly comfortable, and it was quite serene too. it put y/n’s mind at ease, and his muscles visible relaxed after being stiff for so long. both swiss and mountain took notice of this, and started to purr lovingly— the vibrations of their purrs only serving to further heal y/n.

“this is nice…” y/n muttered out softly, to which swiss chuckled slightly.

“told ya we’d help, pretty boy.” swiss teased back slightly, making y/n only rolled his eyes at him.

“oh shut up.” they retorted, eliciting a chuckle from mountain, who rested his chin on top of y/n’s head.

“alright, simmer down you two. i think we all need to sleep. especially you, y/n.” mountain said with a more firm, but soft tone, making both swiss and y/n nod.

swiss couldn’t resist, but he pressed a soft kiss onto y/n’s cheek to help comfort him, which in turn made them giggle from the ticklish feeling. mountain let out another chuckle and placed a kiss on top of y/n’s head, purring softly right after.

y/n definitely wasn’t expecting his night to go like this. being pulled into a cuddle pile with the flirty multi ghoul, swiss— and the sweet and gentle earth ghoul, mountain.

his insomnia was definitely bad.

but these two ghoul’s provided enough comfort for him to make him feel safe.

and that feeling was enough to allow his mind drift off into a dreamless, but peaceful sleep, appreciating the warmth of another’s arms.

[corrroded-cofffin]

Euphoric Reputation - Three

Trans Eddie Munson || Steddie Series CW: Binding with bandages, blood, scrappy fighting, bullying

ao3 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

Nobody sat with Eddie at lunch. They looked at him, or they whispered, and he wasn’t sure anymore if it was because of the fight or if they knew—

Was it obvious?

Wayne had made Eddie a glorious turkey and mayonnaise sandwich, and Eddie shoved it into his mouth in too-big bites as the world spun and his ribs ached. 

Behind him, Eddie heard someone refer to him as that ’new freaky guy,’ and someone else confirm he was the ‘crazy, psycho dude from this morning.’

Eddie turned in his seat, his eyes lit up like the 4th of July, and chewed, open mouthed, through a Cheshire grin at the gossipers. New freaky guy? Crazy psycho dude? Eddie swallowed and then barked at them like an angry dog, before bursting out laughing at the way the whole table flinched. 

“Back off, freak!” “Who is that guy?” “It’s the new Munson boy.”

Eddie wet his lips, his eyes as wide as saucers as he took in the way the table looked at him. The way they talked about him. He’d gotten high plenty of times - but then, hadn’t everyone? But the high Eddie felt as he sat alone at his table listening to folks gossiping? 

Eddie closed his eyes and turned back to his turkey sandwich, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. 

I love my scrappy raccoon boy. Waited his whole life to be known as some psycho dude

[crying-fantasies]

Hold (on to my heart)

Masterlist

CW: blood, murder, curses, hate, power abuse.

Nights in the caves are, really, something else, specially since Martha's garden finally gave something edible.

It's nice, to eat something warm and fresh after so long, canned food and such can only get one so far without feeling sick in mind and body, and don't even get started with the face of absolute horror some bots did after reading what was inside or, worse, what kept the corn in a barely decent consumption state.

It's nice to eat without someone burning their eyes on your back, calling you names.

Martha's corn is little, not really sweet, and mayonnaise or butter could make it more delicious, but everyone eats it to the last grain, part of it has already been stored, the fire where everyone gathered around is, maybe, a beacon of hope, just what everyone needs since Optimus left, and you catch a glimpse of mister Sawyer drying a lonely tear when he looks at a stone at the side.

Ironhide's stone, one he used like a chair.

That was where Ironhide used to come and talk, hell, the bots used to come here with you all, Tommy said maybe it was like looking at a wildlife documentary, but you and the rest have a different approach to it, giving an almost absolute vote of it being because they feel lonely, they feel hunger, they feel cold.

There is so much that can be done in the dessert, or any part the autobots go and so you all do, if you search well enough it isn't that hard to find edible cactuses or other things, with the usual trial and error in between, of course.

Ironhide was the first to tell Optimus to get all the humans back to where they came from, but he was also the first one to take a boulder out of the way to make this campfire site and use the rock as a makeshift chair, at first it looked like he was trying to put you all in one place and Sideswipe almost punched him in the faceplate, but he was also the responsible to moving the hard soil with Hound and Beachcomber so that Martha could grow food, the only one that knew how to live from the earth and not by ready-to-food like the rest of you.

"It's easier for humans to do it, since it's their planet", he said, "at least then we won't bother findin' fuel for them", Sides was ready to let him know his opinion but he was stopped since what the old bot gave you, in reality, was something even better than canned food left to waste.

It's not simple, to follow the autobots, to evade the government, to try and get a hold of whatever that could be usable, you still remember Val and how she found something alien and bring it back, the few energon that thing had was enough to add another two days for everyone, Rosalinde, almost two, could only smile by her sister's enthusiastic face.

It was never easy, when Hoist, relieved for the finding, patted Val's head with utmost delicacy, "You did great", the little girl looked like she won the lottery, very much in contrast to her crying once a military man found your group while looking for rations, Val went far away in the former warzone to find another vial of energon, finding the man in her way and all his group, holding her and telling the little orphan with baseless promises of finding her family with the help of whoever was in power, that he saved her of the horrible aliens as all you could do was move again because they couldn't find the autobots, "humans know what a new human spark would need", that's what Optimus said, and it was what Ratchet repeated to Hoist once he found out to calm him down, Bumblebee was totally against to give Rosa to the people on the near town to care for her, and you all promised to tend to her every need to prevent her from going to fall in their hands, Optimus meant well, you all knew, as all you could give Rosa and Val was the least spoiled food.

"Do he sees us as pets or what?"

"Quiet, kid! Do I need to remind you who saved your ass in the warzone?"

"Well then, I can return to the god-damned civilization because I'm not in debt with the ones that got the war here!"

Most people just go, at the beginning, just like Jimmy, Verity and Hunter, sometimes they stay, just like you, but staying also means to have your face among the most wanted due to "fraternizing with the alien enemy".

But returning would end in indefinite imprisonment, or a very bad interrogation that could turn south very easily, because no one knew of Javier once he got to the nearest town, but you all found him in the wastelands while searching for more supplies, his body, at least, full of bruises and in a terrible state, like he was tortured.

Mr. Duncan called it "a stupid robot hunt to keep the people happy in their madness to vote for them again", Susana said:" Just people showing off, they need some war in order to fill their pockets".

You can only hope Val has something to eat, someone to care, things were hard, as you see your chemically burned fingertips, no more gloves meant direct contact in occasions, Ratchet and Hoist sometimes can't with all the injured, so far the only helping hands they have are you and Mr. Duncan who was a mechanic before the war and before being totally wiped after seeing Optimus Prime himself help him to get out of some debris, transforming in front of him while saving him, they are great, they really are, but alien medicine can only get you so far before you touch real energon, the one running in their lines like blood does in your veins, and getting burned isn't that hard with your hands stopping the leaking in Track's side as Hoist tries to make him see that his wound matters more than his finish.

Sideswipe, ever the gentlemech, came to your rescue when your tearful eyes weren't that easy to hide from him, biting back the sobs and just silently taking it all, maybe that being the reason why his already volatile temper just got to a new level, "I'm going to show that slagger something to whine over", he was furious, not at you, but in what you were getting into, in how you were hiding it even from him.

"It's okay", you said, red eyes and patched fingers, bloody nose and sore throat, low on fluids due to the energon poisoning, "it's okay, I can keep going".

But you can't, not anymore, not because of Sides but because this new bot called Ultra Magnus was sure to keep their law to the T, and Ratchet couldn't do much about it, "it's unprecedented to let an organic know about our general physiology".

"Magnus, I don't have any more help here, and you're shortening it even more?"

"The law must be followed, Ratchet, and we shouldn't have so many injured if our soldiers were able to hold into the designated procedures for those cases".

Everyone have their own reasons to be here, some willing and others not, some do what they can while others just can't anymore, but all in unison rise their cheap plastic cups high and full of homemade alcohol that is sure to burn your liver alive, chanting a "for the ones we lost" before downing it at once, your corn is about to return from your stomach and Mr. Sawyer finally breaks down, crying in his daughter's arms inconsolably.

Men don't cry, you heard once, and it's stupid, maybe real men, the ones that matter, really do cry and bleed.

And maybe is not only about men crying, but showing grief and emotion as a whole, as you remember someone say: "just don't think about it and the pain will go away", or "just think you feel okay and you'll be", it was easier to say than to really do, and even if you did it didn't really change anything.

Maybe the most strong really show what is troubling them, and try to understand it.

Maybe that's why you find yourself walking again to the part of the base Sideswipe has taken for himself, he is just there, sitting, low on energon and spirits since Ironhide's frame was taken back by Ratchet, he looks just like when Sunstreaker-

"Do you hate it?"

At first, you don't know what he is referring to, is it the constant hunger? The scorching sunlight in the day and the cold moonless nights? Being hunted down by your own people? Your own race? There is so much to pick from, but he may only refer to one of them? With a lack of response he makes that sad face again, in the past he did it, as sad as ever or physically possible for him just to joke around, took you a while to notice his playful nature and how to respond to it, but you would give so much to see that kind of expression back to him only as a joke and not the real one in front of you.

"Hate is a strong word".

Since Bumblebee made the deal with the humans, with that guy called Spike, things have been better, but feeling the soldiers' hard gazes have made you all return to the caves from time to time, the last familiar place, the last place where you all saw so many before probably losing them forever.

Val is still missing, no one could track her or what they did with her after they took her away.

Ricardo decided to sell out the bots and play the victim in the news, whining and complaining about being a victim, trying to sell a book of his survival when he wouldn't even be alive if not for Beachcomber saving him from an explosive.

Lucas, Paula and Jocelyn died when those crazy fucks corraled the bots and they tried to stop them like a shield, believing they wouldn't shut them down.

Mr. Sawyer still can't keep a few bites of food down after Ironhide died, his depression hitting another level, or so Miranda, his daughter, said, when his friend returned like a carcass with a hole blasted right through his spark, his heart.

The cries of everyone when Bumblebee, one of the most kind and attentive autobots, one of the better living beings you have ever met, returned with smoke emanating from his body, closed and dead optics, energon spilling from the wound on his chest, as Mr. Sawyer's cries of "not again, please" made more echo in all the people crying, the few people that were still keeping it together before things just escalated more.

The feeling of being burned alive as your fingers put pressure to the many ruptures in the lines, hearing Mr. Duncan curse as his own hands weren't enough to stop the leaking and welding at the same time, being instructed by the supposed scientist and doctor that was in charge to keep Bumblebee alive by just pouring energon inside and letting you two do all the risky job.

Sideswipe's response to your "I hate it" isn't one of surprise, if anything, he is waiting for you to elaborate, "I hate them so much!".

His reaction to your answer brings up the necessity to shut your mouth, but the lock has been molested, and there is just so much you can do once bitting your tongue isn't enough, not even his sad smile, his relief at you finally letting go of what has been eating you from inside out, the low light of his optics on you, blue light that makes your tears shine like tiny sparks embers that fall ominously, like hatred and vengeance that are never to meet an end, the rage of a warrior encased in such tiny frame that does everything in it's power to heal even when there is a gaping black hole in the middle.

His reaction to your tears, to your hysteria, the ones you had to fight back, is nothing but understanding, and he doesn't even flinch when the poison and resentment follow and take control.

"I wish they end up dying there!", you remember their faces, their words full of hatred, you'll never forget them as you all shouted back in how the autobots weren't the ones to get the war to the planet, it was the decepticons who started it, it was the humans who kept at it.

They hated so much, without a base, without a reason, putting all of them in the same group, and were the first ones to shout indignantly once Jazz protected everyone.

"I wish everyone they are related to die too! Stupid genes should just disappear! Their parents! Their kids! It's all rotten!"

You will never forget their faces as they shut down Lucas, just because he was trying to speak with reason, "STOP! Stop! He is injured! Please stop!", Paula got to close for comfort too, apparently, as she was trying to call Spike for help, but someone, a sick fucko, believed her phone was a gun and killed her too with Jocelyn who was only promising the already on edge autobots that everything was going to be alright before her blood was flying in their direction.

"I want them to disappear"

Once your hatred is placating, finally being able to let yourself say all the bad things that have been bottled down for so long, your sadness takes over, and Sideswipe offers his servo to cradle you near as your tears and sobs aren't stopping, increasing to the point breathing is hard and you're almost choking back cries and shouts, holding for dear life to him, your screwed nails digging on the crevices of his faceplate and neck guard as he holds your body with both servos to that tiny and warm place in the junction of his helm and his neck guard.

A safe place, where his body overlaps yours, his engine and the power on it a silent promise that he is strong enough to fight for you both, increasing with your cries and the goosebumps, an answer to his EM field, telling you "I'm here, I'll protect you", your physical reaction, your way to show him "I feel you, I know" when his digits pass over your skin so delicately.

It was a trial and error these years, laughing hard when his anger made your hair stand up, give comfort when you didn't feel much, feeling overwhelmed and all little hair up when he was playful and happy.

Feeling out of your body when he was trying to comfort you.

"I want this to end"

"I miss them so much"

"If I ever know who made that gun!"

"Please don't leave me too"

"I want them in pieces!"

"Don't ever let me go"

Next thing you knew, Sideswipe was trying to wake you up, saying something about a "I'll see you later" that was barely registered as your eyes were too swollen to see him right, the coldness in the base is too strong and makes you hold the blanket he left above you, is it late? Why is he saying that? When did you fall sleep and when did he let go of you? You can barely think straight, the alcohol doing an inside mess, Sideswipe holding you near again, the best you both could do for a hug, you could only do so much with your head all foggy and painful as he left you to rest, that sensation of vibration as you're swallowed inside his EM field again, nuzzled by his faceplate, the light of his optics showering you, barely alert to give back the hug, holding to his olfactory ridge and making him chuckle, smiling back, hearing him happy after so long, if only for a minute, feeling him gone the next and holding the blanket close, preserve his digits' feeling above you, his warmth enclosed in that blanket for as long as it could be.

Hours later, and the next thing you know is that most autobots are gone, everyone is sitting in the dinner salon of the Skywatch's base, watching the news, your relief of Bumblebee once again on his feet is washed away once someone tell you that Sideswipe left with Optimus to Cybertron.

One hour later, and you're left to question yourself what comes next, holding the blanket to your body, and realizing that it's the vicuna one you bought, and that Sideswipe left the paper crane you gifted him years ago just next to your sleeping body, as you ask yourself what you could have said in your intoxicated pain that made that hot head take his few things and go to a barren and deadly planet once again, trying to comfort yourself that it wasn't caused by something you said.

But that monster in your head says otherwise, telling you that if you lost Sideswipe too was because you showed your pain and grief, everything is your fault.

It's all your fault, and Sideswipe will never come back, either by being shot where you can't help him or by finally realizing you aren't that different from other humans.

"Humans are all the same", Sunstreaker once said when he tried to brush you off, and maybe he was right about you.

Do you even recognize who you're now?

[missbalbaquoi]

m.list ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

a compilation of the little things i've written.

✎ out like a light - prohero!izuku x reader (fluff, soft angst)

✎ sex, money, feelings, die - pro hero!bakugo x medical worker!reader (cw: mentions of sex)

✎ let's get married - prohero!hawks x reader (fluff)

✎ like real people do - prohero!hawks x reader (fluff)

✎ mayonnaise - prohero!aizawa x reader (fluff)

you can check more of them on my a03 page :) [warning though: i am not a professional writer, i only write for fun]

[hotpinkmoon]

Heeeey Moonie! I hope you’re feeling better , hope you’re drinking lots of water and getting rest! Or I’m coming to your house and cat burrito wrapping you to sleep.

CW: VIOLENCE?

This question is for all the boys, after MC has been living with them for a while (like months…years?) do they start picking up more of their violent tendencies? Like would MC just not think of it as a second thought to murk someone if said person was being rude to MC or their s/o? Or if they saw a piece of human meat in the freezer MC would just blink and then ask their s/o where the fuck the mayonnaise was completely nonchalant about the bloody mess in front of them? I would think at some point this would be the norm fir MC. Would the boys care, be proud, devastated, horny?

( Don't worry I'm taking a little break from drawing. Put the blanket down, I don't want to be a cat burrito. Wait NO- )

I could see MC copying or doing something similar to the boys bloodthirsty tendencies. Since it's normal to them, I see why MC would adopt a way of thinking/seeing similar to them as normal.

As much as James thinks it's hot seeing you covered in fresh blood and huffing and puffy after beating a person to death because they say a rude comment about him. He's going to be more watchful on you because you leaving without saying a word makes him go on full panic mode. He's grabbing you roughly by the shoulders, checking your face and your body to making sure you're not injured. His face was full of concern and worry. Anything could happen to you. Not again.

ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵃᵍᵃᶦⁿ...

Max doesn't mind this behavior. It makes him feel like he's not the only one thinking this way and most likely continue to encourage this behavior. He spoon feeds you the raw meat/cake and compliments or teases your cheeks puffing up when you chew. Then Max starts daydreaming how attractive you look pinned down with blood and guts mixed with food on display. It's like food play but with blood fantasy galore.

Xavier really doesn't want you thinking that way. He blames himself for exposing such behavior on you and will hide the human meat somewhere else in his apartment. But if it's from a certain ending in the game that MC becomes "immortal" then he lets you eat the meat however you like and Xavier will start feeling less guilty for eating. He shouldn't feel ashamed for something that he has no choice to eat because of his "stomach".

Seth doesn't mind that MC likes to do their own flesh figures. It makes him feel happy that you are stitching or cutting skin and taking off eyes and fingers to make a figure. He wants to help you and maybe make a big one that both of you worked on and display it like a trophy. Maybe you'll help him with his job but no business meetings! A certain more than one person might take a liking to you and Seth doesn't want that.

[sarahlizziewrites]

OCkiss Day 1 - Dance

This is set before the events of Chrissie's of London. <3 my boys <3 Enjoy!

cw: mentions of war

#ockiss23 Day 1 - Dance - 1,213 words

Nobody warns you what it will feel like when a war ends. Not least of all when you expected to take your last breath in those trenches. 

Our unit is in Paris, many miles away from the front lines, but we still all feel the shiver of freedom when Armistice is declared. Freedom, and a little sorrow. What do we do now? Back to university? Back to our families who will hardly recognise us under the scars and grime of war?

The questions remain unanswered, because Lance Corporal Milton has found cases of champagne from…somewhere, and in a manner quite unlike that of the last few years, throws caution to the four winds and declares the barracks a party.

I’ve always said he needed to let his hair down a little. 

Let his hair down he does, as well as consume a share of champagne enough for four men. Someone produces a record player, and the barracks turns into a proper tea dance. There are no girls here to dance with, so we make our own fun. Boys who stood shoulder to shoulder together in the trenches for years now dance cheek to cheek, great grins on their faces.

Jacques is jubilant. He is dashing about, collar open, spoken English fumbling at best (French at worst). At the start of the war, the charming continental bastard convinced someone to let him serve in our unit, rather than with the Frogs. His accent may be thick, but the boy is for Blighty. Though he would have looked dashing in blue.

He is singing la Mayonnaise over the sound of the record, champagne bottle in one hand. His dark brown eyes brim over with the kind of unbridled joy that I only saw brief sparks of during the war, fewer and farther between as the years wrenched on. I watch in fond amusement as he chases his own tail around the room, grabbing each young man in our unit and kissing them theatrically on the cheek with a large smacking sound.

Jacques then begins dancing with Private Peters, a sloppy waltz where neither can decide who is leading, tripping over each others’ feet. He hasn’t come my way yet - we’ve been friends for donkey’s years, he’s shared secrets with me that few others know, and yet, he’s been avoiding me. I find myself a tad envious, perhaps, of the boys who have had his strong, tanned arms around them tonight; of those he’s granted one of his comedic kisses. 

Better not think of his lips. Better not think of when they were on mine, desperate in the pitch-darkness while shells howled above us. Can’t help but think that’s why he’s been a little distant with me these few months since. 

The party presses on, and some time after dark, he finally finds me, bottle of champagne in hand. He sidles up alongside me, swaying a little, giving me his old puppy dog eyes to appeal to me to take a swig from the bottle. I can’t say no to him.

“Why the long face, Silas?” He bumps a shoulder against mine, taking the bottle back. “You’ve barely danced all night. Aren’t you happy? The war is over, cher. We’re free.”

Free to do what, I wonder? Go back to London, inherit a hotel? Marry a nice girl, produce an heir? In a way, being at war had been a sort of freedom. Freedom to just be a soldier, and not Silas Chrissie, heir to that towering hotel and a legacy I’m not even sure I want, my surname gleaming in huge letters above the Thames. 

“Sorry, old chap.” I look up at his face, those puppy dog eyes full of concern, and I can’t hide a smile. “Forgive me; my heart’s just not in it.”

He abandons the bottle then, setting it aside to come stand before me. “A dance, then. That’ll cheer you up.” His russet hair is untidy, falling across his eyes, and his toothy smile is a little lopsided. 

I’m powerless not to take the hand that’s offered, and he pulls me to stand. Just as we begin to dance together - those warm arms wrapping around me, one palm in mine - the song changes. It’s a slow, crooning, end-of-the-night song for sweethearts to slow dance to. I hesitate, waiting to see what he will do, but neither of us let go. 

For all the distance he has put between us of late, he pulls me minutely closer now, slotting our bodies together, like we really are sweethearts. I can feel his breath on my ear and it makes my heart flutter like a hummingbird. I can see some of the other lads dancing in a similar way, no doubt thinking of the girls back home they’ll be returning to soon. I can’t think of anyone but Jacques.

We sway together, silently. We turn; his hand squeezes mine. I struggle to even breathe, not wanting to disrupt this rare, champagne-scented peace. I had hardly realised that it has taken months of its absence for me to ache for Jacques’ easy touch, his habit of greeting me with cheek kisses in that friendly, Francophone way. I feel like a fool. A fool for what happened that night, and a fool for letting that distance fall between us. I long desperately, most of all, for his friendship again.

“If I get a kiss from a Frog, will I turn into a prince?” I hardly think before I speak; it just comes out. He laughs at it though, a soft huff of a chuckle into my ear. More internal acrobatics. My eyes flutter closed, allowing the music and Jacques to guide my feet. 

“You’re already a prince, mon ami,” he says, under his breath, just for me. It’s a jab - he’s always called me a spoiled brat, and it’s an assessment I’ll happily take - but it’s a playful one. Another thing I didn’t know I’d be missing. “What do you get if you get a kiss from a dog?”

It’s my turn to laugh. Jacques accidentally revealed his shapeshifting abilities to me in our first year as roommates at Keble, and made me swear not to tell another soul. Though he’s so dog-like in so many of his mannerisms, it’s a wonder nobody else has figured it out yet. 

“Fleas, I expect,” I reply, and I feel the crease of his growing smile against my cheek. If this moment ends, I might just expire. “Seems a fair price.”

It’s a gamble, expecting him to interpret what I’m asking for. I’m not even sure what I’m asking for. Somehow, he guesses it exactly right.

His lips press against my cheek; tender, chapped, chaste. Exactly the opposite of the last time his lips touched me; in the dark, in that trench, desperate, pleading. It’ll keep me up sleepless at night figuring out which I prefer. 

But now, the feeling of his lips lingers, his arm is around me, holding me close, and his breath caresses my ear for as long as this song lasts. Once it is over, we remain in our embrace for a little longer than is proper, but when we split apart, I know, somehow, that he’ll never leave me for long again.