#mcr side eye gif

[startoro]

new reaction gifs just dropped

[smeagles]

now turn away

[frnkiebby]

SOMEONE TELL MY SISTER TO STOP SIDE EYEING ME WHENEVER I MAKE WEIRD NOISES AT RARS GIFS

HOLY SHIT I ACTUALLY HAVE ALL OF THESE THIS TIME.

keep it up buttercup~🎃

[tiredofpity]

From this gif, looks like you just walked in on them snogging, lmao.

Na Na Na from May Death Never Stop You

[defectivevillain]

give you all my poison

pairing: Peter Hale/Reader

reader's pronouns are he/him; race is ambiguous.

Derek shakes his head in disbelief. Then he falls silent and squints at you. “Peter’s right, you do smell a bit weird.” He frowns, his eyebrows furrowed. “Should I be concerned that everyone’s smelling me?” you ask. “We’re werewolves,” Derek says flatly. Yes, you suppose that is a suitable excuse.

You’re not quite sure what Peter Hale’s obsession with your scent is about. You just know that he doesn’t seem to care what you think, because he’s constantly breaking the distance between you and sniffing at your neck with a confused and irritated expression.

word count: 4.8k | ao3 version

Warnings: mentions of skin-peeling/shedding (molting); canon-typical blood, injury, violence, and supernatural stuff

author's notes: The reader is male/transmasculine. His race is ambiguous.

This is canon divergent, maybe even canon non-compliant. This fic’s pacing is pretty quick and it’s dialogue heavy. But I thought of the idea yesterday and just had to share it. I’m obsessed.

I'm bad at creating my own titles—this one is an edited lyric from Thank You for the Venom by MCR. Because duh.

“You smell very strange,” a familiar voice says in lieu of a greeting. You look up from the couch to find Peter standing in the opposite doorway, his nose scrunched and a pinched expression on his face. He looks effortlessly casual in his cardigan and jeans, and his gaze flits about your form before settling on your face. 

“Thanks,” you say wryly. You’ve long grown used to Peter’s somewhat blunt, borderline rude personality. He’s clever and has a sharp wit, making him rather entertaining to speak to. You thought you had grown used to his sardonic nature, but that remark hurts a bit. 

“You know what I mean,” Peter says, appearing moments away from rolling his eyes. 

“I really don’t,” you admit. You know werewolves have a particularly strong sense of smell, but you’re not sure why he’s pointing it out to you. 

“You smell—” Peter breaks off, annoyed. He takes a step into the room and freezes, falling quiet for a moment. “—strange. You don’t smell like a human.”

“What?” you ask, growing a bit worried. What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?! Are you not human? “Wait, what do I smell like, then?”

Peter takes that statement as permission to break the distance between you and start sniffing your neck, to which you try to push him away. He chases you for a moment before leaning back with a focused expression on his face. “You smell acidic,” he concludes. 

“Maybe my pH levels are off,” you mutter dryly, ignoring how your heart had jumped at his sudden proximity. 

Peter hears the remark (damn his werewolf hearing). And damn it, that means he can probably hear your heart racing. Ugh. “No,” Peter responds, breaking you away from your thoughts. “You don’t smell like any human I’ve met.” 

“Do you go around smelling humans a lot?” you ask, attempting to alleviate some of the tension in the air. 

“You could take this seriously, for once in your life,” Peter says, entirely unimpressed by your jab. 

“That’s ironic, coming from you.” You smile. “And take what seriously? You just said I smell weird. And then you proceeded to smell me without warning.” 

Peter looks at you for a moment and growls, walking off into the nearby hall. You stare after him in confusion, before making peace with the fact that he’s not going to explain himself. 

Several minutes pass before another presence enters the room. You’re about to ask Peter what the whole smelling debacle was about when you realize the new arrival isn’t Peter, but instead his nephew, Derek. He gives you a stiff nod from his spot in the doorway. You raise your brow expectantly, sensing he wants to speak with you. 

“You seem to be…” Derek then says, trailing off for a moment as he evidently struggles to find the words. “...Particularly good at annoying my uncle.” He then notes, taking a step to the side and leaning against the wall. 

“I try my best,” you say.

Derek shakes his head in disbelief. Then he falls silent and squints at you. “He’s right, you do smell a bit weird.” He frowns, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Should I be concerned that everyone’s smelling me?” you ask. 

“We’re werewolves,” Derek says flatly. Yes, you suppose that is a suitable excuse. 

“Okay then,” you relent. That still doesn’t give you an explanation, though. “Why is it such a big deal?”

“Werewolves use their sense of smell to distinguish between friends—or pack members—and enemies,” Derek explains. 

“Well, can’t you just look at me to do that?” you ask. Derek scoffs, as if it’s an incredibly dumb question. “What?” you say defensively. 

“It’s not that simple,” Derek says, vague as always. 

“So… what’s the problem with me smelling weird?” you eventually prompt him. 

“It’s not a problem, necessarily,” he remarks. “But all humans have a somewhat similar smell: blood and sweat. Either you have strange genetics, or…” You stare at him expectantly. Derek just exhales. “Or you’re not human,” he finishes. 

“Oh,” you remark, not quite sure what else to say. “Fun.” The prospect of you being supernatural is definitely overwhelming. But maybe it’ll just be a fluke. Maybe you just have some undiagnosed health issues. Surely there’s a logical explanation for this. 

“Yes,” Derek says, a hint of a smile on his face at your sarcasm. It quickly fades as he considers the statement. “So you could be some sort of supernatural creature.”

“Wouldn’t I have known that by now, though?” You frown. 

“It depends,” Derek murmurs. “Not all creatures have to undergo a bite or formative event to trigger their powers. Some are born that way, others are created through science.”

“Huh,” you remark. “You know a lot about this stuff.”

“Thanks to me,” Stiles chimes in, popping up in the opposite hallway. Derek’s eyes immediately shoot over to Stiles and you resist the urge to laugh, instead following his eyes and looking at your friend. 

“Hey, Stiles,” You greet him. 

“Hey!” he says brightly. He’s tapping his fingers against the wall. “So, I heard you’re joining the supernatural gang?” You know him well enough to know that the smile on his face is a devious one. You may be in trouble.  

“Not yet,” Derek interjects, before he can get too excited. 

“Well, you can be an honorary member,” Stiles says with a nod. You feel yourself start to relax at the remark. “And don’t let Peter get to you. He’s kind of a dick.”

“Stiles,” Derek warns him. “Okay, so he’s definitely a huge dick,” Stiles corrects himself. Derek groans in annoyance and walks off, leaving Stiles and you in the living room. “Mind if I sit?”

“Go for it; I could use some human company. Or semi-human, I guess.” You move over to give him more room. 

“I fit the bill,” Stiles hums in agreement, stretching his legs to let his feet rest on the coffee table. Derek always hates when he does that, you note with amusement. You get the feeling Stiles has started doing it on purpose now. “So, you think you’re supernatural?” he asks. 

“I don’t think so,” you frown. “I mean, if Peter hadn’t said anything about me smelling weird, then I wouldn’t have even considered it.”

“Peter said you smell weird?” Stiles blinks, before face-palming. “Idiot.” You get the weirdest feeling there’s something you’re missing. But you can’t focus on it for long before Stiles is continuing to speak. “Don’t worry. He’s probably trying to make something out of nothing.”

“I hope so,” you sigh. 

“Hey, don’t panic,” Stiles remarks. “Even if you are somehow supernatural, then we’ll be able to help. You’re definitely in the right place.” 

“Thanks, Stiles.” You smile, appreciating your friend’s support. 

“Don’t mention it,” he says casually, reaching for the TV remote. “Now, wanna watch shitty reality TV? How about 90 Day Fiance?”

“Hell yeah,” you respond affirmatively. 

As days pass and bleed into weeks, you slowly start to forget your unusual interaction with Peter. You continue studying and focusing on school, occasionally meeting up with the pack when they need another set of eyes on things. Ultimately, your spring semester is shaping up to be a normal one. 

But then some strange things start happening. Beacon Hills is a strange place—you’ve grown to accept that. It’s home to all sorts of supernatural creatures. Hell, you’re friends with werewolves: you can handle a bit of weirdness.  Usually, you’re not directly involved, though. You’re always a bystander, which you’re more than fine with. Things don’t necessarily happen to you, which is why it throws you when you wake up one morning to find your skin peeling—and not just a normal amount. It’s… Well, you don’t even want to think about it anymore. You just feel like a snake shedding its skin. The thought makes you shudder. 

And then there’s your strange tolerance for heat. You’ve never quite loved the summer months in Beacon Hills, since it can get very warm outside. You’re usually okay if you stay inside. But this summer, for whatever reason, you’re not only comfortable in the heat—you find yourself actively seeking it out, moving to sit in the sun instead of the shade and going outside more often. You also find yourself feeling less fatigued, as if you’re expending less energy. It’s all so weird. You would try speaking to Stiles about it, but the pack has been pretty busy lately with the appearance of a few hostile Darachs. Besides, you don’t even know how you’d begin to breach the topic. 

It all comes to a head on one particularly sweltering summer afternoon, when you find yourself seeking out the sun’s warmth instead of resting in the air conditioning like the rest of the pack. You had gotten some incredulous looks, but you couldn’t quite focus on that. You can’t rationalize this behavior of yours—you just know that it feels right, somehow. 

“What are you doing out here?” Peter scoffs, clearly trying to sound disinterested. You squint and look over to find Peter standing next to you in a tank top and sweatpants. There’s a note of something close to concern in his voice. You pretend not to notice, instead considering the question. 

“Relaxing.” You just shrug, crossing your legs and taking a slow breath. 

“It’s practically a desert out here,” Peter points out. “You’re crazy.”

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, noticing the worry hidden behind the insult. “It feels nice.”

Peter leans forward and brings a hand to your forehead, frowning. “You don’t feel warm,” he notes. 

“I told you,” you say quietly, without venom. Peter just mutters something under his breath about stubbornness before walking away. You glance around and find him retreating into the cool, air-conditioned house. You hum and turn your attention back to soaking up the sun’s warmth. It feels quite nice—almost rejuvenating. 

Then a sudden sharp pain bleeds through your ribs. You gasp and bring a hand to your abdomen, feeling as if it’s tearing itself apart. Your back is aching persistently too, adding insult to injury. You’re leaning down to the ground now, a hand on the grass as you try to breathe past the stabbing sensation in your chest. What is happening? One moment you’re fine; the next, you feel as if your entire body is stretching and ripping at the seams. 

You blink and submerge yourself in darkness. When you open your eyes, you realize you’re on your feet again. Except… you’re taller than normal. And your lower half comprises eight inky black legs. There’s something weighing your back down; you manage to turn around enough to see a giant stinger. Are you… a scorpion? You stare down at your form in disbelief. Everything from your waist up is human; from the waist down, you look like a scorpion. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Peter’s voice breaks through the silence and you look over to find him staring at you in complete disbelief. He’s standing just past the stairs to the house, regarding you with an unreadable expression. 

“...Hey,” you manage to say awkwardly, your heart racing in your chest. 

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?” he exclaims incredulously. "Hey?” 

“I didn’t know this would happen!” you quickly defend yourself.

Between the likely indicators of your distress—your accelerated heart rate and pained breathing—and the commotion from your argument with Peter, you’ve successfully drawn Stiles and Derek out of the house. Derek doesn’t look super surprised, only a bit wary; and Stiles looks excited. His eyes are practically glittering. “I knew it, dude!” he exclaims, sending you a thumbs-up. You feel some of your nerves fade at the friendly gesture. “Supernatural gang! Hell yeah. You look so fucking cool!” You fight off a smile. 

“Stiles,” Derek admonishes him. But he’s hiding a smile. 

“I knew you smelled too weird to be a human,” Peter says triumphantly, a victorious grin on his face. He seems to have gotten over the whole scorpion transformation thing pretty quickly. 

You just huff in annoyance. You have more important things to worry about at the moment, like returning to your human form. “Any advice on how to…?”

“Go back to normal?” Peter supplies. He’s studying your tail with particular interest, hunger flickering across his face. You hope he doesn’t want to eat you. “No idea.” He shrugs. 

You look at Derek helplessly. He sighs. “I’m not sure either,” he admits, before glancing at Stiles. “Any ideas?”

“Finally someone asked,” Stiles huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thought I’d be standing here twiddling my thumbs the whole time.”

“Stiles,” Derek says exasperatedly. 

“Right, right, not the time,” Stiles sighs, before taking a step closer to you and looking up at you. “Okay, so I’ve done some reading. Because, well, emissary stuff. I guess. Anyways! I remember the process being similar to werewolves—having something anchor you to your humanity.” 

“How am I supposed to do that?” you ask helplessly, starting to feel a bit scared. 

“It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” Stiles says, evidently sensing your distress. “We’ll get you out of this soon, don’t worry.” He placates you. Damn it, Stiles always knows just what to say. You want to be embarrassed, but hell, you just turned into a half-scorpion! This is far from normal. 

“Your anchor can be a person, a relationship, an object,” Derek adds. “Anything that reminds you of your human form.”

You take a slow breath, attempting to calm yourself down. You can do this. You don’t need to rush it, either. You’re not in danger right now—Peter, Derek, and Stiles are here. They’re not scared by you, and they didn’t shun you. You’re going to be fine. You’re safe. You repeat that notion like a mantra in your head. You’re safe. You’re okay. You’ll be just fine. And slowly but surely, you start to believe it. The stiffness and discomfort slowly bleed out of you and you feel a sudden pressure in your knees before you crumple to the ground. 

“Not bad,” Peter says, the words sounding garbled through your ringing ears. He’s standing far closer than you thought he was—if you were to stand up, you’d probably crash into him. 

“Ugh,” you just groan, attempting to peel yourself off the ground. Your limbs are aching and there’s some sort of liquid dripping from your fingers. But otherwise, you’re back to your human form! Small mercies. 

Peter doesn’t even offer you a hand, instead just bending down and hauling you to your feet like a stray kitten. You blink and wobble a bit, set right by his rather tight grip on your upper arm. “Thanks,” you say to him, before looking down at your dripping hands. “This is probably venom.” 

“Probably, yes,” Peter says with a smile. 

Stiles and Derek approach you, vastly different expressions on their faces (intrigue and skepticism, respectively). Stiles leans in to scrutinize the liquid for a moment. “It won’t hurt you, because you have resistance, I’m sure,” he reassures you. “But it’ll be poisonous to us. Maybe even corrosive,” Stiles analyzes. 

“Corrosive?” you echo. 

“Look.” Stiles inclines his head down to your feet. You follow his gaze to where you had first fallen after your transformation. There’s a sizable chunk of ground caving in on itself, evidently from where the venom had fallen to the ground and eroded it. “Hey, you should try shooting it.” He proceeds to shoot his wrist out like Spider-Man shoots his webs.

“I’m not Spider-Man,” you huff. Peter lets out an amused noise; you decide to follow Stiles’s instruction, if only out of curiosity. Unsurprisingly, the venom just drips off of your hands. You smile knowingly. 

“Hey, it was worth a try,” Stiles defends himself. He seems eager to change the subject. “Anyways, now we have a shit ton of werewolves, a Kitsune, a spark, a Kanima—Jackson’s lucky he’s even being included—and you. Nice. Sounds like the start to a really bad joke.”

Derek just rolls his eyes. He probably doesn’t realize it, but his eyes are gleaming with fondness as he looks at your friend. You catch Stiles’s eye and smile, which he returns with a smile of his own. Maybe one day he’ll notice Derek’s pining. Maybe one day. 

“Let’s head back,” Derek suggests. “You should probably be in our company for a few days, to ensure you don’t transform accidentally.” 

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good…” you hesitantly agree, thinking about transforming into a half-scorpion in the middle of your lecture hall. That’s one easy way to fail your classes. You stare down at your hands, relieved to find that the venom has been absorbed into your skin once more. Where exactly that venom goes is a mystery you don’t particularly care to solve. 

“I can do some research,” Stiles offers, practically bouncing on his heels at the thought. “Some light reading.”

“You call those thick ass books ‘light reading’?” Derek mutters disbelievingly as he heads back towards the house. 

“Yes.” Stiles frowns, walking behind Derek. “And that’s not how you say ‘you’re welcome,’ sourwolf.” 

You don’t really have the wherewithal to comprehend what they’re talking about, so you instead just focus on not tripping over your own feet as you head back to the house. Peter still has a hand on your arm, which you’re secretly grateful for. You sort of feel like you’re walking through a thick sludge. Evidently, the transformation will take some getting used to. 

You can’t be more than a minute’s walk from the house, but you’re still tired by the time you get up the steps. You pause in the entryway, bracing yourself with a hand against the wall. You can feel Peter’s inquisitive gaze burning into the side of your face. “You’re about to pass out,” he reminds you. 

“Thanks, I hadn’t noticed,” you say dryly. The remark lacks your usual bite, instead sounding a bit pathetic. 

“You’re welcome.” Peter smiles sweetly. You roll your eyes. Despite his acerbic remark, his grip on you tightens as he leads you to the living room. You pretty much collapse on the sofa, feeling all of your adrenaline promptly seep out of your bones. 

“Get some rest,” Derek practically orders. Stiles lets out a pointed cough and he lets out a strangled breath. “You’ll need it,” he says a bit more kindly. 

You don’t have the time or energy to contemplate the weird expression on Peter’s face as he stares at you; or notice the meaningful look Stiles gives you, his eyes flitting between Peter and you pointedly. Within moments, you’re succumbing to exhaustion and falling asleep to the ever-familiar sound of Stiles and Derek’s bickering. 

You would think, in the time since you learned you’re a Girtablilu—which is the official word for a creature like you, according to Stiles—that Peter would abandon the whole scenting issue. You’re pretty surprised, then, when he walks into the room and freezes again, a frown rising on his face. 

“You smell different,” Peter says. 

“Not this again,” you protest. But it’s too late—Peter’s already getting up in your space and sniffing you. You remain still this time, if only because you know resistance is futile. 

“You smell like the banshee,” he concludes after his impromptu inspection. 

“Lydia?” you ask. Peter knows her name—he shouldn’t be calling her ‘the banshee.’ You sigh, knowing that’s an argument you’re not going to win. “Yeah, we’re roommates. I’m surprised you’re just now noticing.” Indeed, you’ve been rooming with Lydia for the entire year. 

“Co-ed dorms?” Peter questions. 

“Yeah, our residence hall is all-gender,” you reply, confused by this particular line of questioning. 

“Interesting,” Peter says. The irritated expression on his face suggests that it’s nothing of the sort. “And she’s your girlfriend?” he clarifies. 

You stare at him in complete disbelief. He stares back unflinchingly. “What—? No,” you choke out. Where in the hell did he get that idea?

“You’re sure?” Peter asks, a smile on his face as if he’s amused at your expense. It looks a little strained. “You smell like her.” Okay, now he definitely sounds annoyed. 

“Positive,” you respond firmly. “Lydia likes women; she’s dating Allison.” And the two of you live together—it’s only natural that her scent will carry over to you, if that’s how the whole scent thing works. You’re still very confused by it. Thankfully, that’s not really your problem—since you don’t have an enhanced sense of smell like the werewolves. 

“Oh,” Peter remarks.  

“Yes, oh,” you say, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “And I’m gay too. So we’re just friends.” Peter doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “We get that question a lot.” You then explain, needing a reprieve from the awkward silence. 

Peter just hums. “I didn’t realize you like men.” 

A pause. “Well, I do,” you say somewhat helplessly. You have an idea of why he’s so interested in that particular tidbit, but you don’t want to get your hopes up or read into it too much. 

“I do, too,” Peter says. 

Your eyes snap to him so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. For a moment, you’re struck silent as you just stare at him incredulously. Fortunately, you’re saved from stammering out a response when Derek storms through the door, looking furious. “I’m going to kill Stiles,” he hisses, surging through the room and heading to one of the adjacent hallways. The tension that had been settling between Peter and you is promptly broken, leaving you both standing in the living room somewhat awkwardly. 

Unfortunately, it seems Peter hasn’t lost his creepy fixation with your scent. The first and second time, you weren’t expecting it. This time, you manage to see it coming. 

“You smell like Stiles,” Peter says as he enters the room, studying you intently. 

“Okay, no need to test it,” you say quickly with a shake of your head, leaning away from him before he can start sniffing you again. You’ve since learned from your mistakes. “What’s with you and this scent thing?” you demand. 

Peter just smiles, entirely unashamed of the stunt he just tried to pull. “Why were you with Stiles?” he asks instead, proceeding to entirely ignore your question. 

“You know him,” you answer exasperatedly. “He’s a ‘slut for research,’ in his own words. He wanted to see what kind of scorpion I am.”

“And?” Peter prompts you.

“Well, we’re not quite sure,” you begin. The research process was pretty entertaining. Stiles was fanboying half of the time, which was a bit flattering, honestly. “We couldn’t test if my tail grows back without cutting it off, which we didn’t want to do, obviously. But I am fluorescent, supposedly. So that’s fun. And then my venom’s toxic too.”

“I guess I was molting last week,” you recall. Peter’s entirely silent, which convinces you to keep talking. “Scorpions can live up to a year without food, but we can’t test that either. They also have low metabolic rates. That’s about it, I think.” Some of that information is from Wikipedia, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“I’d never met a Girtablilu before,” Peter admits. That statement feels more impactful than you can comprehend, for some reason. There’s a certain weight to it. 

“Me neither,” you then huff. Peter’s expression cracks into a slight smile. 

“You’re something of a rare breed,” he teases. 

“Don’t say it like that,” you argue insistently. “I’m not a pet.”

“You’d be a cute one,” Peter continues, uncaring of your objections. “Just put you in a tank, throw you crickets every few days.” 

“Perish the thought,” you say with a shake of your head.  

“Take you out for walks,” Peter continues, if only to irritate you more. 

“I’ll sting you,” you threaten him. 

“You won’t,” Peter says. 

You both know it’s an empty threat. “I won’t,” you agree. 

“I have diplomatic immunity, it seems,” Peter notes. He looks smug now. 

“For now,” you emphasize, wanting to wipe that damn smirk off his face. “Don’t get comfortable.”

“Oh, I won’t,” he says. The sharpened teeth in his grin send a bolt of something down your spine. “I’ll be watching you very closely, sweetheart.” And, in typical dramatic fashion, Peter’s gone before you can respond. That’s probably good for you, because otherwise, he would’ve noticed the flustered expression you’re sure is written all over your face. 

You’re starting to think something’s wrong with Peter. Maybe he’s sick or something. He’s just been acting a little… strange. For one, he keeps on touching you—casual gestures like a hand on your shoulder, the nape of your neck, or your back. He doesn’t behave like that with anyone else. Next, he’s being weirdly evasive. Every time you try to speak with him, Peter almost seems distracted. 

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve expected this behavior to manifest in other ways. Because surely that’s the only explanation for why he thought that pursuing multiple Chimeras on his own would be a good idea. Peter’s strong, sure, but not that foolish. At least, that’s what you thought. 

Safe to say, once you all learn of Peter’s absence, you’re the first to volunteer yourself to go after him. Stiles had tracked down the location of the Chimeras the previous day, so it won’t be hard to find. Furthermore, your venom will prove useful—since the creatures have very few weaknesses otherwise. Derek doesn’t seem happy about it, necessarily, but Stiles manages to distract him long enough for you to make your daring escape and go after Peter. 

You find him in the same clearing Stiles had labeled as the Chimeras’ hideout. He’s fending them off, but you can tell his balance is slightly lopsided and he’s slowly losing ground. You sigh, resigning yourself to a messy evening before transforming into your Girtablilu form and fighting off the creatures at Peter’s back. 

After what feels like far too long, you’ve successfully defeated all of the Chimeras. You take a slow breath and calm down, embracing your human form once more. As you return, you stumble and shoot an arm out, bracing yourself with a hand on the tree Peter’s leaning against. The transformation still isn’t as smooth as you want it to be, but you know it’ll improve with time. 

“Maybe don’t go off on your own again,” you say breathlessly, looking down at him with a tired smirk on your face. “Also, you’re welcome.” 

Peter’s staring at you with wide eyes, his gaze roaming your face as if drinking in the sight of you. You stare back at him, a bit curious about his sudden intense scrutiny. He doesn’t explain himself, instead keeping quiet and just looking at you eerily. 

Eventually, you extend a hand to him; he takes it and allows you to tug him to his feet. You move to release your grip, but Peter’s grasp is steadfast and unrelenting. The two of you stand there for several moments, far closer than what is socially appropriate. 

“You’re difficult to impress,” Peter eventually murmurs. 

You blink. “You were trying to impress me? Why?” The thought is almost ludicrous. 

“Because I… care about you,” Peter says, his voice almost dripping with condescension and revulsion. You recognize the bravado in the gesture—knowing he’s masking his uncertainty and nerves. Then you process the statement and everything finally makes sense: the scenting; the physical contact; the look on his face when you first transformed, and the look he gave you just now; the concern disguised with sarcasm. 

“Oh,” you breathe. 

“Yes, oh,” he repeats, clearly taking delight in calling back to the last time you said those same words. Suddenly that conversation about sexuality makes a lot more sense. 

“Well,” you drawl, sounding a lot more confident than you feel, “are you going to do anything about it?”

“Does that mean what I think it means?” Peter’s eyes are glittering. 

“Yes,” you confirm, your voice wavering ever so slightly. Peter’s expectant gaze is only making you more nervous. “I care about you too.” 

“Good,” Peter states, before surging forward and kissing you. You’re quick to embrace him in return, your arms looping around his shoulders. It’s far from a sweet or harmless gesture—Peter doesn’t do sweet, and you think his claws are digging into your waist somewhere. But… you wouldn’t want him any other way. 

“Well,” a familiar voice says far too soon. Peter and you break apart, both of you turning to investigate. “I guess you guys had it handled after all.” 

“...Hey, Stiles,” you sigh, recognizing your friend at the edge of the woods. Stiles sends you a wave. 

“Derek thought I should check on you,” he explains, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “He’s gonna kill me, though: I bet him that you guys would get your shit together by the end of the week.” 

“So, thanks,” Stiles says with a smirk. “I can’t wait to rub it in Derek’s face.” 

Peter and you exchange a look before sighing in exasperated defeat.

©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

I had to look up werewolf scenting for this. and then I immediately got embarrassed and stopped and deleted my search history. And now I'm talking about it here and leaving a permanent digital footprint. sigh.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you @moss4ev3r

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[crowandmousewritingco]

Give Me a Shot to Remember Pt1

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

Words: 2.9k

Rating: M (18 + very smutty)

Warnings: hate sex (sorta noncon but evolves to concentual [this one on the darker side folks]), misunderstandings, QZ Joel, drinking, swearing, choking, fingering (reader receiving), degradation, face slapping, face fucking, gagging, riding, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys!), fucking your emotions out, creampie, and cock warming,

Summary: You hated Joel Miller, and you never wanted to see him again. But it seemed like fate had other ideas.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: This is my entry for @sp00kymulderr's MCR challenge, and got the song The Sharpest Lives. I'm honestly excited for this one! It went in directions I wasn't expecting. That being said, this is a darker 18+ fic so MDNI. If you click the "Keep Reading," You know what you're getting yourself into. Also this is my first time writing for Joel so I hope I did him justice.

You hated Joel Miller. That fucker had messed up your life in unforeseen ways. So when you saw him in the bar in the QZ that night after years of loathing and silence sent you in a spiral. So ya you went on a bender. Anything that had alcohol and was in your vicinity went down your throat with the familiar sting of forgetfulness. That was until the bartender cut you off and you threatened his mother and his entire line. Luckily you were good friends with him and only sent you away with a slap on the wrist telling you to try again tomorrow. 

So you stumbled down the road back to your shitty apartment in this shitty town. To add even more insult to injury the heavens decided to dump the entirety of its rain contents right on you. “Son of a bitch!” you yelled up at the clouds, but of course they didn’t care. No one gave any shits about you. You were sopping wet by the time you threw open the door of the complex. 

You groaned and stumbled up the stairs, your shoes squishing with every step. Ugh and you just got these too. Another week of rations down the drain. All you wanted now was a bath and a good night's sleep. The reward of cleanliness was the pull you needed to make it up the stairs. The hallway felt way longer than what it actually was as you trudged across the worn wood. Finally you reached your door though it took a couple of tries to actually open the damn thing and you slipped inside giving no mind that it was weird your door was unlocked. You religiously checked it every time you left your apartment. 

To your alcohol ridden mind it didn’t matter. What mattered was dry clothes and sleep. You stumbled into the space and kicked your shoes off with a thud and shed what close you could before you fell face first into the couch. It didn’t take you long before you were passed out unaware of what the world would throw at you next. 

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

Joel Miller had witnessed a plethora of events in his life. Some good, but most of them left some sort of imprint in his aged mind. After burning bodies all day, he just wanted to rot on his couch with a beer in his hand. With some extra ration cards he got from his trading, he got himself a six pack which he carried back up to his apartment. 

What he wasn’t expecting was his apartment door to be half open. Quietly he set the pack of beer on the ground and pulled the gun from the back of his pants. Carefully he held it in front of him as he pushed the door fully open with a creak. It was soon apparent that nothing was messed up so nothing was stolen. 

After another quick glance around the room his eyes landed on your half naked body and he swiveled his gun to aim it at your sleeping form. Tiptoeing closer to the couch not letting his gun move away from you. When he was close enough he nudged you with the barrel of his gun though all it did was make your arm fall. 

He tried again adding a bit more force behind the shove and that caused a snort to escape from you. Joel scooted back as you waved your hand besides you mumbling what he could only assume was a swear word at his expense. Again he shoved you with the barrel not caring about the amount of force he was using against you. Finally that seemed to get the stranger awake. 

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

You weren’t very happy at the sudden interruption of your peaceful sleep. “Hey get up,” You heard the stranger bark at you and you sat up quickly though wincing as everything was way too bright and way too loud. 

“Jesus fuck man chill out. I was sleeping.” It took you a moment to realize the situation. “Wait what the fuck are you doing in my apartment,” You grumpled as you grabbed you head. 

“Your apartment? Try again.” The voice repeated with an edge of annoyance. 

This made you look up and through your blurry vision you took in the man before you. It took you a minute through your hungover idled brain to realize who you were looking at. But when it hit you, growled and quickly stood up despite all the warnings from your body. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Joel?” You practically yelled and pulled out the pocket knife from your pocket. 

“Like I said yer in my apartment.” He replied, setting the gun on the coffee table. 

“I’m not–” You paused and turned to take in your surroundings. Most of the QZ apartments looked identical, but the burns on the carpet and this sofa were not yours. It was missing everything that made your space what it was. The objects that reminded you of your best friends were missing from the shelves replaced with an old radio. When you realized that you were in the wrong apartment you cursed yourself and rubbed your eyes. 

“Fucking hell,” You growled. You did not want to have this conversation right now. “I’ll leave.” You tried to plow through Joel, but the man stood his ground not letting you move an inch. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” You punctuated through clenched teeth. 

“I think we need to have a talk,” The older man added. 

You scoffed and ran your tongue over your teeth in annoyance. “Oh we have to have a conversation now. Well you weren’t feeling chatty when you decided to leave me some blonde bimbo bitch.” You panted as your anger surged through your veins. “Four years Joel we dated. Four!” 

Joel scowled as he stared at you baring down at you with war worn eyes, but he didn’t say a word. You clenched your jaw so hard you thought your teeth might chip. 

“So you really won’t say anything after all this time? Then let me through but for fuck sake explain yourself.” 

“The fuck do you mean? You knew I had to.” He growled through his clenched teeth. 

You scoffed. “Had to? The fuck does that mean? You didn’t have to cheat on me.” 

“Cheat? Where did you hear that?” Joel scoffed. 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “Oh you know everyone who saw you making out with Chelssey underneath the bleachers. Jesus, I'm just back in highschool.” 

“Chelssey fucking hell I never did that.” He threw up his hands in annoyance. 

“Oh good we’re lying now. I don’t have time for this.” You try again to push your way past him, but once again he was as stubborn as an ox and you push past him again, sending you back to your corner.  

“Joel now fucking what? Do you have pictures of her sucking you off? Fuck do you want with me?” 

“I want to explain what happened.” 

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “I don’t see you talking.” 

Joel was quiet for a long time and you weren’t sure you would get answers again, but finally after a deep breath he explained. “She was pregnant.” 

“Okay,” You said with no emotions. “Forget the condom during a risky quicky in the locker room?” 

“Jesus just listen. No it wasn’t me.” He sighed again. “It was my brother.” 

You quirked your eyebrow. “Tommy? The fuck happened?” 

“He was the captain of the football team and she was the head cheerleader. What do you think happened?” He rubbed his eyes. He looked older than he ever had been at that moment.

“Okay so what, you decided to leave us behind to help her?” You rolled your eyes. 

“I didn’t leave us behind. You weren’t waiting at that bus stop.” Joel was silent for a long moment. “I thought you gave up on us.” 

You rubbed your eyes, this stressful reunion making your hangover ten times worse. You would give anything to be anywhere but this room. “How could I not? Everyone was telling me you were cheating. I didn’t think you cared anymore. Ugh fucking hell I can’t with you.” Your temples started to throb in time with your heartbeat. 

“What do ya want me to do then? Since it’s clear you ain’t believing me,” Joel growled. 

You scoffed. “Why don’t you blow me then huh? Put that lying mouth to use then.” 

  With a low growl Joel stroad forward covering the small apartment in only a step. His well worn hand grasped your neck and squeezed. The sudden movement scared you, but also was a rush you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“So that’s what ya want? Even after all the time and hate you still want me to fill that hole with my cock.” Joel crooned as he squeezed tighter. Stars danced in your eyes and the lack of blood flow sent a sense of euphoria over your body. 

“Fuck…You” You punctuated but you felt yourself growing more and more needy by the second. 

Taking his hand off of your throat and slid down your body gripping your bare waist. The rush of blood back to your head was sudden but enjoyable nonetheless. Joel deftly shoved his hand down your underwear running his finger up and down your slit. “Yer body is telling me other things, baby.” With those words his thick fingers found your dripping hole and without warning, shoved two inside of you. 

The moan that escaped your throat was unholy and loud enough for the whole QZ to hear your pleasure. Joel couldn’t help but smile as he finger fucked you with reckless abandon. “Just like that you slut. Despite everything you still missed how I made you feel.” 

“Fuck!” You moaned as he punished the spots you loved the best as if he never forgot what made you scream the most. It wasn’t long before an orgasm ripped through you causing your legs to lose their steadiness. Joel’s grip on your waist was the only thing keeping you upright. Though Joel didn’t stop there. He kept his punishing pace as soft pleads of stop escaped your blubbering lips. 

“You used to love when I did this shit to you. I can see nothin’s changed.” Joel chuckled darkly. Finally he pulled his fingers out of you and gave your hole a quick slap causing you to jump. You pout looking up at him. 

Joel lightly slapped your cheeks a few times. “Don’t give me that shit.” Swiftly he undid his belt and pulled his underwear down just enough for his cock to pop out. Your attention quickly snapped to the dick that you had spent nights riding and sucking. Joel gave his cock a few strokes with his large hand. 

“Even after all this time you still miss my cock there darlin’?” Joel teased and you quickly snapped your gaze away. “Even after you accused me of cheatin’?” 

“Absolutely not!” You argued. 

Joel stared at you as he stroked his cock. He lumbered forward slowly, a dichotomy from his aggressive behavior earlier. The stomping of boots made you turn your attention back to him. Joel didn’t stop marching forward and you had to back up to keep him from running into you. Quickly your knees hit the mattress causing you to fall back against the bed. 

That still didn’t stop Joel. Just as slow as his movements he climbed on the bed making sure he was straddling your shoulders. With one of his big hands he grabbed the back of your head, knotting his fingers in your locks before guiding his cock to your lips. Precum smeared on your lips and the salty taste hit your tongue with past familiarity. 

“Maybe this will get you to shut yer mouth,” He growled and pushed his cock into your mouth. The stretch burned your jaw as Joel slid further into your mouth hitting the back of your throat. Tears burned your eyes as you tried to keep yourself from gagging. Joel moaned as he took in your tear stained cheeks. Without a second chance for you to recover he thrusted into your mouth using you like his own personal toy. 

The slap of skin and the grunts emanating from Joel filled the apartment. Your senses were full of Joel. His musk, his touch, his sounds. Everything was Joel and you couldn’t escape it. And you found yourself not wanting anything else. Something shook loose in your brain as you watched the man above you take what he wanted. Your anger still seethed inside of your soul. 

All of the years spent hating this man all for it to sizzle when you thought about it harder. Rumors had a tendency to run rampant across a high school. Maybe there was a modicum of truth in his statement. But if he was telling you the truth then what? Would you pick up where you left off and live happily in this fucked up world. Or would this finally be the end, a catharsis of sorts. 

Your mind still reeled as you felt Joel pull out of your mouth leaving a trail of drool connecting you to his cock. He scooted back on the bed giving you a chance to breathe. “You know I wanna cum in that pretty hole of yours.” 

“Then do it but first.” You sat up and kneeled on the mattress so you could look him in the eyes. Joel stayed quiet as he took your form in. He gave a small nod. 

“Kiss me and I’ll surrender,” You whispered, not taking your gaze off of his world damaged eyes. Your resolution was broken by the man you loved and hated for a decade. The memory of your anger shadowed by the care that still lingered in your soul. 

Joel searched your look for meaning, breaking down any movement trying to understand you. You were so angry not long ago, but he saw the change of attitude in your eyes and understood the look of peace. With no words exchanged he kissed you letting the both of you let go of what anger and frustration led you to this moment. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck burying your fingers in these salt and pepper curls, and pressed your heated body into his flannel. The familiar nights spent with tv shows abandoned and heated kisses exchanged on the couch late at night came rushing back to your memory spurring on your need. 

“Please Joel,” You whimpered into the kiss. 

Joel moaned and rolled over to sit down on the mattress. He slid out of his jeans and boxers putting his muscular thighs on display. You licked your lips at the scene and carefully maneuvered yourself onto his lap. Bracing your arms on his broad shoulders you let yourself rock your hips against his cock, moaning with each shock of pleasure as his length hit all the sensitive bits. 

Using his large hands Joel grabbed your ass and lifted you enough for you to pull your underwear aside. With your other hand you guided his large cock against your hole and slid down with a loud moan. Your body remembering what it felt like to be filled by him, to not know anything besides the cock that made you tremble. 

“Fuck,” You threw back your head as you started to ride him slowly, using your legs to bounce you up and down on his cock. You kept your pace steady as you enjoyed every moment Joel was inside of you. He hit your spots like he never forgot what made you sing. Every thrust sent jolts of pleasure throughout your body, and you could keep going like this for as long as the world would allow you.  

But the pace wasn’t enough for Joel. He grasped your hips and started to bounce you faster. He pressed his mouth to your ear and growled. “I’ve waited way too long to have you again. Yer gonna come on my cock like a good whore.” 

His words made you shiver as you let him pound your hole like a hungry beast. You gripped onto him and let him take you. But this time it was different. The love you shared with him once bubbled back to the surface versus the anger filled lust that started this whole affair. You pressed your face into his shoulder as you felt the building fire in your stomach. 

“Fuck I’m gonna~” You moaned as he cock pounded into that spot you could never reach. All you needed was an affirmative moan from Joel to send you over the edge. You moaned loudly as you shook from your high. Legs shaking you felt Joel twitch inside of you and with a grunt you felt his seed fill you up. Spurt after spurt coated your walls and you felt a steady trail drip down the inside of your thigh. 

Both of you stayed connected for a long, breaths syncing up with each second you stayed together. Joel gently laid the two of you down in his bed, bringing the comforter over you heated bodies. Neither of you said a word. You didn’t have to. You knew what the other was thinking and you let yourself stay in the comfortable silence. Sleep soon found you as you fell asleep with Joel still inside of you.

```````

Pedro Character Taglist

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges @carusolikey @thebeldroramscal @morallyinept

@lady-bess

@pedrostories

[razornrosary]

MCR Songs & their vibes

MCR songs and whether I think they’re day, night, sunrise, or sunset songs.  Also adding seasons.  If you get it, you get it. If you don’t then idk what to tell  you homie. I do get carried away & include scenarios I personally picture with the songs. It took me a couple hours to write this so please read. This might make more sense for my fellow autistics though:  

First album: Bullets

As an overall album I don’t have a set season for it BUT if I had to pick it would be a transition from Summer to Fall. It’s also more of a Day album for me but not ever sunny. With exception of sunsets. 

Romance - Sunset but when the sun is almost down, Summer but transitioning into Fall 

HTMIBHFTBOU - Night but just after Sunset, still that Summer to Fall transition  

Vampires - Night, but sometimes fits a cloudy rainy day, Fall

Drowning Lessons - Night, probably around 9pm, then again I get rain vibes, Fall but  exceptionally chilly this day

Our Lady of  Sorrows -  Night, Fall, i imagine being aggressively drunk to this song in  some small shitty venue 

Headfirst for Halos - Day but slowly transitions into sunset, nice fall day

Skylines and Turnstiles - Day but super rainy/cloudy to where it looks night,  Fall

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville  - Day and night because it starts  off nice then progressively gets darker, winter

TITBDE - Sunset/night but  like right after the sunset, i imagine being at the fairground & setting the firewheel ablaze, Summer transition into Fall

Cubicles - Day but cloudy, Fall but getting close to winter, being miserable at a shitty  corporate office job, coffee & cigarettes 

Demolition Lovers - Day into night, Winter, blood in the snow

Second Album: Revenge  

Easily a Fall album with SOME Winter exceptions. From the story we know I get lots of vibes of murder and suicide. I get lots of screaming and yelling between a couple vibes too. Definitely a Night time album overall.  

Helena - Day but rainy & cloudy, funeral vibes but that’s so obvious, peak Fall

Give ‘em Hell Kid - Day but very cloudy it’s almost night, Fall,  definitely ‘just got out of school 4 the day’ vibes

To The End - Night,  a very eerie night somewhere in the woods bc you & your friends found a vampires mansion and the lore to the house is that a husband & wife lived there but they killed each other, Fall

YKWTDTGLUIP - Night but you're in prison so you don’t care what time of the day it is, Fall but it’s a bit chillier because it’s ALMOST winter 

I’m Not Okay (I promise) - Day, cloudy school day with light drizzle, Fall but a bit warmer but it feels like summer because the gym teacher made you run laps outside & you threw up on the side

The Ghost of You - Day/night but cloudy (Kinda going  off MV), Winter probably 

TJLIGKY -  Late Night, downtown somewhere sketchy in a hotel, missing person vibes tbh, rain, Fall transition into Winter 

Venom -  Night but early on, I imagine fighting for something you want/to keep living/fighting for love even if it’s not necessarily romantic love

Hang ‘Em High -  Day, Sunny fall day, emo cowboy vibes idc!, Sunset later on in the song though, very sinister & hungry eyes, possession comes to mind here

Fashion Statement - Night but just turned, graveyard, crawling out of coffin in ground, Fall but foggy

Cemetery Drive -  Day but cloudy and rainy, when you were found on the bathroom floor though it was night, staring out the window like a movie, Fall

INTYWIDFAL - Dead of the Night, lots of mania & killing, Staring at the mirror with blood on your hands, Fall

Third Album: Black Parade

This album is Winter through and through! Definitely a transition into Day from  Night. Themes of death obvi  and incompletion and self hatred. Lots of fire and potentially setting stuff ablaze, so arson! Memories on memories. 

The End - Day but you’re in an auditorium watching a play/musical until Night, lots of screaming & agony, Fall but just about Winter

Dead! - Day but it’s cloudy, lots of dreaming & being taunted by death, Winter

TIHID - Night, being in the woods late at night, walking in snow barefoot & blood trailing behind, seeing ghost, Winter 

The Sharpest Lives - Night but it’s  2am, drunk, cigarettes, trying to comes to term w/ your career & how you won't achieve anything, Winter

WTTBP - Day into Night, cloudy, dead of Winter but lot’s of fire to keep warm, seeing death finally 

I Don’t  Love You - Day but cloudy & rainy, Fall transition into winter, painful breakup but we knew that

House of Wolves - Night but downtown vibes so the lights keep everything alive, running  from cops vibes, personal rebellion against church & religion, reminiscing on running the streets with friends when young, the memories are Summer but song is Winter

Cancer - Right after Sunrise, patient dies early in the cloudy morning, body stays in bed until Night though so family can visit, lots of flashback of memories, Winter

Mama - Night, arguing with family, lots of anger, war flashbacks, rainy Winter

Sleep - 4am Night,  nightmares, sleeping in shitty hotel, haunted hotel,  creaky floorboards, sleep paralysis, Winter

Teenagers - Day, Fall, zombie like & judgy teenagers, reminiscing on teenage years, violence  

Disenchanted  - Night, drinking yourself away, disappointment, feeling like you didn’t do enough, Winter, around Christmas

Famous Last Words - Night 12am, realizing your memory will forever live on, coming to terms w/ death, Winter but the fire is enough to keep you warm

Fourth Album: Danger Days

If you say anything else but Summer you're just wrong. Blazing summer heat & just sweaty musty & dusty mf’s.  Themes of fighting for what’s right, the power of friendship & love. Partying in the desert. Obviously a Day time album. 

Na Na Na - Day,  blazing hot in the desert, partying at some underground rave, hanging head out window to shoot the corporation ppl, robbery, Summer

Bulletproof Heart - Sunset, lots of smiling & laughing w/ crush, trying to runaway with crush to somewhere better, one of the lovers dies because of Korse, Summer but it’s very breezy 

SING - Night, “I’m gonna save the world” vibes, sneaking  around,  cool Summer night

Planetary (GO!) - Sunset but it’s just about to be night, partying, lots of colorful lazerbeams and strobe, very sweaty,  Summer 

TOHFMIY - Sunset, fighting for friends & showing them love, taking pictures with friends on a desert cliff, Summer

Party Poison - Day, pompous ass character, fighting for what’s right, protest, Summer

SYIHTB - Day into Night, fighting off the Exterminators, stealing cars & sneaking off, sneaky make out session, helping friends get away from Exterminators, Summer 

Scarecrow - Day almost Sunset, feeling safe, finding a place to rest & collect thoughts, maybe mourn the people you lost, being found &  have to keep moving, Summer but it’s not humid

Summertime - Day into Night, so much love, finally got with crush, telling story of them, sappy,  laying in the desert/on-top of car & staring at the stars, hot Summer day but chilly night

Destroya - Day, horny, so hot you had to get almost naked, fighting against corporation  by holding a concert of sorts to raise awareness, borderline dehydration, blazing Summer heat

The Kids From Yesterday - Sunset, reminiscing hard, missing childhood/younger self, living in the moment, hand holding w/ friends, realizing you’re not actually alone, Summer into Fall

Vampire Money - Day, causing chaos with friends, so many crimes, more crimes,  scary teenagers, selling soul for fame, Summer in Los Angeles 

[popculture-hag-shit]

I Don't Love You Binding/Banishing Spell

Had a relationship that turned sour? Worried about ill intent causing issues in your life? Boy howdy do I have the spell for you!

What all you're gonna need:

🫙a small jar or container, making sure it's transparent (plastic is discouraged as it could warp due to hot wax)

🏷️ a tag lock of your intended recipient

🖋️a marker (sharpie works pretty well on glass and metal)

🌵thorns/pins/needles/whatever small sharp things are on hand

🧂salt

🌶️ dried hot pepper of some sort

🎵 the song "I don't love you" by mcr

🪞 a mirror

🕯️a candle (I use a beeswax candle bc that's what I've got on hand, feel free to use whatever you like)

Practice fire safety, make sure you have access to water and aren't wearing any loose clothing that could catch fire. Make sure your space is clear of anything that could catch fire. Also make sure this is a space you're okay with potentially getting candle wax on.

Set yourself up in front of a mirror, you'll be using it to reflect their bad intentions away from you and into the binding spell.

Start playing the song, I put it on loop because this spell can take longer than the duration of the song and you'll be using the song as a focus for this spell.

Light your candle.

Take your hot pepper of choice and add a layer to the bottom of your jar.

Take your taglock and gently press the thorns/needles/etc into the taglock being sure not to pierce it all the way through: the goal here is to show you have a sharp offensive but not to cause harm unless necessary.

Set your taglock inside the container, nestling it part way in the hot pepper. This is to make them feel the heat-- you're not harming them, but the implication is you're prepared to.

Fill the jar with enough salt that there's only a small amount of room between the salt and the top of the container. The goal is to use salt to cleanse any ill will they may send your way, so make sure the taglock is covered completely.

Take your candle and carefully tip it so the melted wax fills the container the rest of the way. This is to create a solid barrier, trapping any malicious intent from escaping.

You may want to wait til the wax has cooled before securing the lid on your container as it will be hot.

Once the lid has been secured, draw the nazar (protection from the evil eye) on the lid, sides and bottom of your jar.

Optional step to elevate this to a banishing spell; throw the container out.

If for some reason you think you might want to undo the binding spell in the future, keep the container. You will need to remove its contents in order to undo the binding spell.

[conellu]

And Through It All (How Could You Cry For Me)

Hajime Hinata/GN!Reader

Izuru Kamukura/GN!Reader

Soulmate AU: First words your soulmate will say to you appear on your arm in the same color as their eyes

Posted on my AO3

Title from Sleep by MCR

You traced your fingers over the words on your wrist for what felt like the umpteenth time in a little over an hour.  The green they held was never your favorite color until you had actually heard the words spoken and looked into the eyes of your fated one, the one you were always going to be attached to, Hajime Hinata. --- Sitting on the bed next to Izuru was always an uncomfortable experience, your entire body wanted this, wanted to be near him, and you assumed his body called for yours as well but… It felt more like two strangers forced to sit in close proximity on a train.

Warnings: Izuru is a shitty soulmate, I am incapable of writing happy soulmates I guess (please don't read into that too much), reader is slightly obsessive, repetitive lines

“That’s me.”

You traced your fingers over the words on your wrist for what felt like the umpteenth time in a little over an hour.  The green they held was never your favorite color until you had actually heard the words spoken and looked into the eyes of your fated one, the one you were always going to be attached to, Hajime Hinata.  Even just thinking of his name, of his eyes, of him, made your stomach fill with an almost uncomfortable amount of butterflies in your stomach and a smile on your face that was so brilliant that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were genuinely glowing.  Despite having found your soulmate so long ago, the feelings never stopped and they might have even gotten more intense.  A lot of people told you that the feeling would eventually level out, that you would still have a burst of excitement when you see them, but you still felt like a lovesick child on a playground at the very thought of Hajime.

“That’s me.”

How many times have you traced your fingers over the gentle, though shaky, lettering since they first appeared?  How many times have you repeated the words to yourself, either audibly or just in your head?  How many times have you asked him to repeat those words to you, late at night through the phone when it’s late at night and your entire body aches for him- craves him being close to you and the best you can have is his voice?  Whenever you asked if he had done the same, the red that would burst on his cheeks would feel you with such an extreme amount of pride and overwhelming joy made you ask him again and again.  How he would never lose his patience with you was amazing, but also completely understandable- after all that was the point of soulmates, right?

“That’s me.”

His voice repeats in your head so often, you wouldn’t be surprised if you could imitate it with decent accuracy with his intonation.  Well, scratch that, you knew you could.  Some nights you’d repeat the words to yourself when Hajime was busy with other people or homework, over and over again until the words sounded fake coming from your mouth.  Was it obsessive?  Was it weird?  Or was it just how some people acted with their soulmates?  You never really thought about it too hard unless you were all alone and had no one else around to reassure you that what you felt was a completely regular side effect.

“That’s me.”

He said the words so confidently as he walked away from you, spoken to people you both believed would allow him to come back to you, to return to you as himself.  Your entire body cried for him, it aches before he had even left your sight.  The pain that rocketed through your body was so intense it felt like you were dying, your body knowing what was transpiring far before you did.  Looking down at your arm, wanting to trace your fingers over the words that meant so much to you, your eyes widen as new words blossom over your skin.  The green writing still remained but there was something new, the same words but in a different color, in a different writing entirely.

“That’s me.”

“That’s me.”

The yellow-green text just above the new red writing made your stomach churn uncomfortably, the usual comfort and enjoyment the words brought you was now replaced with complete unease.  The writing wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t shaky.  In comparison to the writing that Hajime’s had left on you, it looked as though you had a child’s writing and a parent’s writing etched on your skin, the red lettering flourished and was written in a way that made it evident that was nothing but complete confidence in how the person did everything.  What did it mean?  You had heard of soulmate markings disappearing after one’s death, but Hajime’s words were still on your skin- albeit a little more faded but still visible.  Your eyes darted around the room anxiously, what had happened?

“That’s me.”

“That’s me.”

Sitting on the bed next to Izuru was always an uncomfortable experience, your entire body wanted this, wanted to be near him, and you assumed his body called for yours as well but… It felt more like two strangers forced to sit in close proximity on a train.  Your legs anxiously kicked back and forth, feet not even close to hitting the ground.  You could feel his eyes hyper-focused on the movement and it just amplified all the anxiety and nerves that seemed to never leave your body in his presence.  He had once asked you to explain what Hajime was like, why you continued to stay near his new self even when your body was clearly and viscerally uncomfortable around him- despite his knowledge being far more than yours, far more than anyone’s, it was clear that this behavior was completely and fully perplexing to him.  He knew what soulmates were, no surprise at all, he knew the ins and outs of how they worked, he knew, he knew, he knew.  His hand rests on your leg for half a second before he pulls it away, as though his body reacted with no thought behind it.

“That’s me.”

“That’s me.”

Your body physically recoiled as his words hit you, his uncaring, cold words about how he was stuck with a completely boring soulmate and you were stuck with one who would never be able to return your feelings, never be able to love you as you once were, never be able to rid yourself of the complete and unyielding ache of emotions that conflicted with each other.  You didn’t realize that tears were pouring down your face until your hands involuntarily wiped them away.  Your eyes darted over your arms when you pulled your hands down, tears falling down your cheeks and trailing down your neck while some plopped softly onto the words that you hated seeing now.  He never moved towards you, though you know he has to want to, right?  His body wants to reach out and comfort you, wants to hold you close and whisper nothing but loving words, right?  You hear the bed squeak and you don’t even have to look to know he’s sitting on it, probably not even looking at your pathetic display anymore.

“That’s me.”

“That’s me.”

Both lines sent dread racing through your body, even after his (unfortunately true) words towards you, you still couldn’t leave.  Your head rests lazily against his shoulder, looking down at your arms as his eyes look at nothing in particular.  How many times have you cried, both away from him and in front of him?  Did it even matter?  The comfort you got was the same in either case, sometimes you got more comfort while you were alone sobbing than you did sitting next to your soulmate- sitting next to the one who fate decided would be the one to keep you safe, to keep you comforted, to let you know that you were loved.  The yellow-green of Hajime’s words sometimes looked more like a nearly healed bruised, a painful (though barely memorable anymore) reminder of what once happened.  The red of Izuru’s writing burnt your eyes, the flourishes remind you of blood spilt up and over your skin.  Your fingers still traced over the words, through Izuru’s words only, trying to feel any comfort from them.  No comfort ever came, your body ached for something that no longer existed.

“That’s me.”

[bennysubreddy]

INTRO POST !!

About Me:

I don't wanna give away my name or the nickname my friends call me so u can just call me bennysubreddy or benny for short

Born 05

They/them

I don't bother with labels in terms of my gender and sexuality, im just kinda here

I'm very socially awkward but i try my hardest to be nice, if I don't reply to u don't take it personally I just usually don't know what to say

I am THE frank iero twink death / dilf birth person

I have a side blog for my music collection @sound-jam

DNI / Interactions :

The regular tbh, if ur a biggot then gtfo

Idc what age u r, feel free to follow

I'm pretty much always down to be moots unless ur under 16 then I won't follow back

Bands / Artists I like:

* I'm a casual listener to most of these bands so don't expect to see all of these featured on my blog *

My Chemical Romance

Fall Out Boy

Circa Survive

L.S. Dunes

The Used

Anthony Green

Pencey Prep

Actually I cba to list every frank side project

Limp Bizkit

Misfits

Weezer

Smashing Pumpkins

Joy Division

My Upside Down

I won't list anymore bcuz its already a long list but here is my Spotify account, feel free to stalk it

Other Interests / Hobbies:

Video games

RESIDENT EVIL !!!!

Philosophy

Classic books

Slashers (especially Friday 13th)

Comics

Concerts

Drawing

MCR Misc:

I saw mcr 19/05/22 (MK Night 1)

I have no idea when i first started listening to them I think like 2018 ??? I was a casual fan for a while and only listened to a few songs until 2020 when I started listening to more of their stuff and started learning a bit about the band. I got fully involved in the fandom after I saw them live :3

My fave album is danger days and my fave song is save yourself, I'll hold them back

The light behind your eyes has a special place in my heart tho

I have lyrics from wttbp tattooed on me -> it was my first tattoo and it says "DO OR DIE"

I also got a stitches tattoo bcuz I saw Frank's stitches tattoo and thought it looked sick

I have I think 3 more mcr themed tattoos planned

I'm a Frank (not)girly

[picklesthefemboy]

Hi

cave diving/spelunking hate page

i talk To myself on Hrr I AM A TRANNY AND A FAGGOT AND MAYBE A SECRET THIRD THING

this is a side blog my main is @robertlover64 go tell him to khs

ignore like any old posts i probably dont agree with them honestly

DEE EN EYE IF YOU A WEEZER OASIS MCR PATD OR ISMFOF MEATRIDER YOURE UGLY AND HAVE A STINKY DICK 🤢😡 ALSO APPLIES TO DANDYS WORLD FAGGOTS

DO NOT 😡 CALL ME PICKLES MY NAME IS ISAAK

#WIFE BEATER #I LOVE BEATING MY WIFE

MY WHOLE BLOG IS SATIRE DO NOT TAKE ME SERIOUSLY DO NOT CANCEL/“EXPOSE” ME 🤦‍♂️

i put tws for w**zer mentions

✌️COLLEGE HERE I CUM

okay bye ☺️ 🌹❤️‍🩹

tags…👀👇👇

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Oooo! I’m excited for an Outsiders ship!

-Ok so, my hair is side tails and my bangs are dyed bubblegum pink, the rest is brown.

-I’m 4’11 and all my friends call me “4 foot of fury” or “Baby Coon”

- My favorite color is pink

- My style of clothing goes between Bimbo, Pastel Goth, Goth Bimbo, and Trad Goth!

- I listen to metal and rock (Three Days Grace, Skillet, Slipknot, Marilyn Manson, Theory of a Deadman, Disturbed, System of a Down, Falling in Reverse, Evanescence, Metallica, MCR, Breaking Benjamin, Hollywood Undead, Saint Asonia, and TX2)

- I also enjoy Musicals (Hamilton, Six, Dear Evan Hansen, Be More Chill, Heathers, Mean Girls, Grease and Grease 2, Beetlejuice, Wicked, Epic, and I kinda count Hazbin Hotel as a musical)

- I also like club/sexual songs (Scotty Doesn’t Know, Sloppy Seconds, Such a Whore, Belly Dancer, Go Hard, Ashnikko Slumber Party and Stupid, Ayesha Erotica, etc)

-I also like drawing and cosplaying

-Have EXTREMELY bad mommy issues, daddy issues too but not as bad

Your Outsiders Ship: Johnny Cade!

Explanation: OK so starting off with appearances I think that Johnny Kay would be extremely attracted to you. I think he would stand out, especially with your Gothic bimbo style/traditional Goth. (Hey just like meee!) I personally think that he’s more into alternative people so I think he would absolutely love the way you look and just think about you all the time and always kind of have you on the back of his mind, but he would be scared as shit shit to come up with you, so Dallas would have to definitely push him (literally) to talk to you. I think that he really likes that you’re short and would definitely tease you about it. Based on your music taste, I think that you are kind of a bad ass and I think that Johnny would too. I think he really would like a lot of your music even if some of it is a little bit too intense for him he would let you know, and I hope that he would respect his boundary and you probably would. Speaking of which if you listen to sexual music around him, I think he would be so flustered he wouldn’t be able to even speak like he would just look at you with wide eyes like “what the shit is this man??” And I just honestly honestly don’t even even know if he would like it or not because he would be so flustered that he wouldn’t be able to even decide how he feels about the music itself. Anyway, you guys are kind of opposites, but not really vibes and I think you guys would be a really cute couple.

[toxic-spike-plumeria]

The Mural

Rated M for Mature for sexual themes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.

Note: Takes part in my Cigarettes and Hibiscus universe, art description is inspired by MCR's Revenge era, and punk propaganda art. If it helps, I wrote the ending while listening "Welcome to the Black Parade".

The first time Plumeria had seen The Mural, as it was so affectionately called, was the day she had arrived in Spikemuth.  She didn't understand the meaning or sentiment behind it at the time, all she saw was beauty and art- on pitch black background was a side profile view of Piers, cyan eyes glinting with a large, dark starburst, as he sported his signature colors of black and white and magenta, underneath the portrait was a decaying, waving paperesque-stlyed banner that read “Our Lord of Sorrows”.  Below him to the left was another side profile of a young woman, with side shaved pigtails, and blue eyes that almost matched the man she was depicted beside.  Her colors were still vibrant, but softer, a bright baby pink and light gray with a deep indigo shadow, her banner reading “Spiritus Tenax”.  The portraits were graffiti’d in a mix of noir/deco/grunge, true to the anarchist style of the city leaders it displayed so proudly.  Plumeria was blown away by it, completely mesmerized, her drive to reconnect with her boyfriend all the stronger.  Just like the music notes behind him on the bricking, she followed the sounds of heavy guitars and eerily angelic vocals to her other half, pouring his heart out on stage, their eyes meeting, and worlds connecting in less than a second. 

He stopped mid song to embrace her, something that shocked everyone around, before leading her to the front, and continuing on.  Without knowing why the two Yell grunts acting security kept the strange, new woman safe from prying eyes and glares and stares of the others.  Something shifted in Spikemuth that day, everyone could tell.

A few more months had passed before The Mural was passed by again from either of the couple.  This time it was Piers who had noticed it, the image that had been there for so many years, ever since he took over the gym, suddenly changed overnight, raising a brow and piquing his interest.  He could see from the main road bold shades of rosy pink and lemon yellow highlights had been aurad'd around another figure that sat to Piers’ right.  Upon further inspection he smirked, noting the figure of his lover there, one leg bent to her chest, arms wrapped around it, tender eyes looking out.  She had no banner, but around her like a halo was the phrase “Tenebris Lux”.  He immediately took a picture and sent it to Plumeria, providing no explanation.  Something within his heart fluttered with a newfound pride for his city, and a new spark for her.  He couldn't wipe the smile from his face the rest of the way home, or when he took Plumeria to bed upon arrival.  

Tenebris lux: the light in the darkness.  And in the dark of their shared room, naked bodies twisting and breathing heavy, hearts full of passion and love, Piers could see why the painter, whomever they may be, gave her that as her descriptor.  Underneath his form, covered in sweat, panting hard and moaning loud, Plumeria was the only light he'd ever need.   And he'd swear she glowed with every orgasm, lighting up the room, and his soul.

Then just like that his light was snuffed out, and he was left in the darkness once again.  Her part in the mural became a memoriam, golden flecks and peace crosses added to her halo. Her once warm eyes now closed forever, covered by a blackened shroud.  The word ‘Sorrow’ in Piers’ title had been bolded, the paint dripping like the tears he often shed.

In Alola she was a martyr, though only to Ula’ula and Akala, where her efforts and sacrifice made way to revelation and freedom, but not without war.  And every war has casualties.  

The siblings had seen the update before they had seen the arrival.  And a striking update it was- the whole of The Mural had changed, from poses to colors; only the titles and art style itself stayed the same.  The mural now centered on the theme of family, with Marnie now sporting the official gym leader clothing of Spikemuth, her stare one of determination, eyes bright and large.  She held a wide stance, a dusk ball popped open with a freshly released Morpeko, metallic bronzed thunder bolts painted over small splashes of magenta and baby pink , the rest of her portrait grayscale monochrome, except for the blue in her eyes.

Piers was stationed above her to the left, donning his performance uniform of plaid distressed pants and a printed tee with a spiked jacket, his trusty Obstagoon modeled to his left side, rocking out in its signature pose, both monochrome save for Piers’ cyan eyes and splatters of aquamarine and violet shadowing them.  His notorious medallion and jacket spikes had been accentuated with a metallic silver paint, adding definition and shine. His face, crying the last he saw, was dark and energized, his fist raised in rebellion.   

Lastly, to his right stood Plumeria, her left arm up, holding a metallic golden ball of light, while Alohi was cradled in her right arm.  She was dressed in her signature concert outfit- high rise pleather shorts paired with split top halter and fishnet shirt, completed by the studded leather jacket Piers had gotten made for her, and her signature fashion boots.  A halo of metallic golden paint adorned her head, and her eyes were flaked golden as well.  Harsh blotches of yellow and rosy acted as a backsplash against the monochrome, much like how Marnie's and Piers’ portraits were done. And all around her body were the scars Guzma had left when Piers had followed her to Alola.  Right before she was gone forever…but who here would know about those?

The banner waved anew, freshly painted and waved so that all three bore their titles: Our Lord of Sorrows, Spiritus Tenax, and Plumeria’s new title- Our Lady of Resilience.  Upon further inspection Marnie noticed that the banner wasn't the only thing ‘freshly’ painted. The whole mural had been redone recently, the fumes still wafting in the air, if barely, and further down the alleyway were the empty cans of colors, appropriately discarded into their respective receptacles. 

Piers had never run so fast in his life.  The only way anyone could know about the scars was to see them.  He damn near busted the door down to the apartment, Marnie hot on his trail.  And when they finally entered, they say a very confused Plumeria looking around, before being tackled in a crushing, loving embrace by her other half.  She was real, she was here, and she was alive.  Piers sobbed in her arms, joined soon by his sister, both having missed the Alolan in their own way. That night Piers made another vow to her, so that he would never be far from her again.  He couldn't bear it.

The mural only changed twice more after that.  When Plumeria joined Marnie as a co host  to the gym, her outfit and pose on the mural were changed to reflect her poison type colors of neon green and electric purple. Her hand now holding a poison barb, and Alohi's evolution into Veneon was updated.  

The final time it changed was the day Piers and Plumeria wed.  Their colors, for the most part, stayed the same- monochrome clothes with splashes of their personal pallets behind them, save for the color of their eyes, and the newly adorned metallic silver and gold coronets above their heads.  They were modeled in their wedding clothes, Piers in his distressed and spiked tuxedo and jacket, and Plumeria in her layered satin and mesh corseted gown.  They faced each other, Plumeria holding a bouquet of her name bearing flowers along with their sacred fire blooms from Alola. Piers held her chin in his hand, tilting her head slightly, ready to lean in for the matrimonial kiss.  The banner twisted around them this time, reading the phrase “Tenebris Tenetur, Lux Est”. Two smaller scrolls below their portraits revealed their new titles: Our King of Pains, Our Queen of Hearts.  Marnie had been removed from this mural, having her own now, located across on the other side of the alley.  She still wore her uniform, and was still posed with her Morpeko, the metallic bronzed bolts shimmering over a scattering of her colors, matching a metallic bronze tiara above her head.  On her banner was her new title as well: Our Lady of Tenacity.  And this was how Spikemuth's royalty stayed immortalized.

[the-strange-creature]

HELLO, WELCOME, WHY DON'T YOU TAKE A SEAT? RELAX, GET COMFORTABLE, TAKE A SECOND IF YOU NEED TO

Here's my little blog site thingy, I'd recommend using it while viewing my blog, so the posts aren't annoying white blocks

Y'all can call me Creature, Archivist, or scourge , I go by it/they pronouns, as well as any neopronouns

MORE INFO BELOW [warnings, interests, tags, blinkies, and is that a playlist of songs I like?]

One: GENERAL WARNING FOR INSECTS, ARACHNIDS, AND OTHER CRITTERS IN THIS BLOG

I SHOULD ALSO ADD THAT IM REALLY INTERESTED IN JUST ABOUT ANY OTHER ANIMAL THAT PEOPLE FIND SCARY, HERE THERE BE CRITTERS

Two: this is my only account, I don't have a side blog or art blog right now, if you specifically want to see my art you can use my art tag (tags listed below)

Three: I block freely so I'm not writing a big dni, don't interact if you fall under basic dni criteria (racists, pedos, nazis, etc. You know who you are), terfs don't interact (although I don't see why you decided to come here in the first place)

Four: WARNING FOR EYESTRAIN!!!! I LIKE BRIGHT COLORS!!!! Oh and eyes, A lot of eyes

I tend to avoid flashing lights, they don't cause me pain but they're really annoying

If I should start tagging stuff as warnings just ask <3 I might not be amazing at it but I'll try

SOME STUFF IM INTERESTED IN

Wings of fire*

Will wood*

Warrior cats*

Wander over yonder

Lemon demon*

Animaniacs

Ride the cyclone

Hamilton

The beetlejuice musical

The Jekyll and Hyde musical*

Jack stauber

Lackadaisy

Gravity falls

spider-verse

Birds (mainly birds of prey)

Sea Creatures

Bugs

animals that people find scary in general

Paleontology

history

Space

Rats

My chemical romance*

The owl house

The strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde*

The glass scientists*

The Magnus Archives*

King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard

Starset

powerman 5000

Jhariah

Oingo Boingo

My friends ocs*

Cosmic horror

Alterhumanity*

A bunch of other things

*starred interests are ones I mainly post/reblog about*

MUSIC

MY TAGS

MY ART POSTS

#creature draws : this one has my art!

#creatures neon dragons : this one has some simple brightly colored sketches of dragons on a black background (this tag hasn't been used in AGES)

#super cool art : other peoples art that I reblog

#creatures comic collection: comics that I reblog, I will still also put comics in the art tag

MY TEXT POSTS

#creatures ted-talks / #creatures ted talks : these have my text posts, stuff where I talk (I don't do so very often)

#creature answers : this one has my answers to asks and responses to tags

MY REBLOG STUFF

#creature rambles In someone else's post : self explanatory, I talk in someone else's post

#very important post (vip) : this one has posts I find important, nowadays I stick to things with helpful links

#creatures faves : the best of the best

#creatures faves² : the best of the best of the best of the best

#creatures saved files : this one has things I want to save for later

#creatures saved files art edition : art tips and color palettes I wanna save

INTERESTS

#wee woo : will wood related stuff

#silly music people doing silly things : other musician related stuff (where you'll find lemon demon and mcr posts grouped together, yaaayy!!)

#casualdejekyll and formaldehyde : Jekyll and Hyde related stuff

The normal archives : The Magnus Archives related stuff

#wof of fire : wings of fire related stuff

#warrior kitty cats : warrior cats related stuff

(edit 2/20/24 THEY TOOK THE YELLOW TEXT AWAY WHAT THE FUCK)

Any now for a collection of blinkies and banners

HERE'S MY PRONOUNS PAGE, THIS HAS MY NAMES, PRONOUNS, WHAT WORDS YOU SHOULD CALL ME, AND OTHER QUEER STUFF

[lonleywriters-blog]

I’m not sure if you still do matchups but if you do could I get one for Gotham, Harry Potter, and for Stranger things please?

I’m 19, and 5 foot 2 inch tall. I’m on the skinnier side at like a solid 110 lbs with a bit of a tummy. I also get told alot I have a baby face and look younger than I am. I’m also on the weaker side, but I’m quick and generally pretty agile.

I am Non-Binary (She/He/They) but present feminine and while all terms are fine gender wise I tend to use feminine terms like Girlfriend or Mother for example. I’m also Queer, I just am really attracted to anyone and don’t use labels but I tend to have a preference for men.

I have shoulder length black hair and bangs and my hair has a bit of wave too it and is pretty fluffy most of the time. I also have green eyes.

My style is kind of a combo of Punk and Emo depending on my mood for the day, I wear a lot of Black with Reds or Purples.

I’m into a lot of alternative rock music like MCR, Fall out boy, (old) Pan!c at the disco, Falling in reverse, ect. But I also like Midwestern Emo, Classic rock, Punk, Really most rock adjacent genres- and I actually really enjoy Classical music!

(I’m also a bit of a theatre kid!)

I’m quite the nerd and some of my favorite things are Marvel(I’m a big Spider-Man fan), Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Lord of the Rings, Dungeons & Dragons, Gotham, Stranger things, I love a lot of horror, Slasher, and thriller movies.

I also really love animals, I have a fear of the ocean and bugs so not like fish or insects. BUT Mammals I really love. From cats to bears to Opossums, you name it. Love all the furry little friends.

I have social anxiety and autism so alot of the time I struggle talking to people and making friends, I’m more on the shy side as I worry about embarrassing myself. I tend to open up more as I get closer to people and over time I become my loud and fun self. I’d say I’m a pretty funny person, I’m pretty giggly and it’s not at all hard to make me laugh.

My love language primarily is physical touch- I am very clingy to my partner, I’m a big cuddler. I like to always have some point of contact weather that be hugging or holding hands or even just our legs touching slightly. but I honestly really enjoy all the love languages, and especially love giving my partners gifts and words of affirmation.

I would do like anything for the person I love, even if I gotta fight someone to protect them I’ll do it! The people I’m close to mean alot to me and I’d be willing to put myself in danger if it means keeping them safe.

It also doesn’t help that I tend to get attached to people pretty quickly.

And it’s quite often I act impulsively and act without thinking too much into it. Like say, punching someone in the face because they insulted my partner. Probably should have taken a moment to think and NOT done that but hey- worth it.

And that’s all I could think of, hopefully it’s enough and also sorry if you don’t do matchups anymore I’m like new to finding your account but I love all the stuff I’ve read of yours!!

I think for Gotham

He fits your aesthetic. I also feel he would understand you being shy and help you. He also loves animals and would love a pet. I think you would share hobbies.

He is actually really sweet to you. He loves the way you dress and all the colors. He will help you when you feel shy or scared. He is always there for your ups and downs.

I think she would be so sweet and understanding. She loves your aesthetic and will let you give her makeovers sometimes. Compliments 24/7. Takes you to letting zoos and other animal places.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

Welcome on my blog !

I'm sharing my pfp with my IRL best friend @arsuns-ramblings :]

Other people I've corrupted so far I mean beloved IRL friends: @bi0u @the-lil-jester @navygdraws @yolasthing @nostelou @ly4k0s @ash--king @goartieldoodles @from-rzndom-import-me

DNI if you:

- Are transphobic, queerphobic, racist, sexist, ableist or fatphobic.

- Are a TERF or a pedo.

- Do not stand with Palestine.

- Use the R-slur???? (I can't believe I have to fucking say it??????)

- Are an "ED blog", or interact/reblog from such blogs.

My stance on any internet drama, ever, is that you're a petty teenager with too much screen time and you couldn't pay me to care.

Who am I ?

My name is Atlantis, and my pronouns are he/they! I'm 18, trans, gay as hell, and French™️. I write fanfics and headcanons, and hyperfixate on new blorbos all the time.

I'm a chaotic gremlin, with undiagnosed autism and maybe potentially OSDD. We're not sure about that yet. I'm also on my first year of a psychology degree!

Here I make headcanons, theory posts and original posts with your average levels of Tumblr bullshit. My blog is mostly random brain goop and ramblings.

Funny hahas to check

@lost-letters-from-atlantis is my side-blog for original writing!

My masterlist for headcanons and short stories!!

The infamous deer quiz (now with amazing art?!), I read all replies left on the last box, and if you left something in there I probably fell in love with you.

#whispers from atlantis : My orignial posts!

#howlings from the vortex : Queued posts!

#bestie's trinkets box : Posts I reblog for my best friend (obviously)!

#bird's wisdom : One of my amazing friends sends me cool poems that you can all check with this tag ! So she has a proper tag in recognition for the great literature she brings to us :]

Interactions status ?

Unless specified otherwise, my askbox is opened for headcanons/short stories requests! I do both SFW and NSFW but will decline any request that makes me too uncomfortable.

Otherwise, you can always put something nice or silly in there and I'll be happy!! If you want to send me a message but can't/are scared to, just send me an ask to tell me so and I'll answer you! :]

My DMs are opened for mutuals! My only problem is I always think all of my moots hate me and want to hunt me for sport, so please do send me a message or an ask otherwise I'll just look at you from afar with fear and admiration in my eyes.

Please keep in mind that it takes time and energy for me to answer!

You can find me in other places on the Internet :

Instagram

AO3 (for English works)

If you somehow saw me on any other platform, no you didn't.

Credits for dino-nuggets dividers

Credits for MCR divider