#which is still weird and obsessive but slightly less weird than doing it all night

[viralarcadian]

kind of says something about mr photographic that he knows who byron looper is but not richard kyanka

[riveroftales]

request:

can you write a letter by Genya to his lover (us)?

❀❀❀❀❀❀ 𝙰𝚍𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 ❀❀❀❀❀❀

ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴘʀᴇ-ᴇsᴛᴀʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ + ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛs

𝖢𝖢'𝗌 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾: I’m really sorry. I couldn’t resist🥹🙏

「𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓, 𝐍𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓」

Hello, Y/n!

How are you doing, My Love? I know you’re over at your family’s, but I can’t help but worry. I’m just really nervous for you and our little girl. The hashira training is going well. I do miss you though! It’s cold without you next to me.

Tanjiro made me spend more time with his other friends. There’s a weird kid who seems obsessed with Tanjiro’s little sister Nezuko, and a guy who wears a boar head. The two can NOT stop screaming, but it’s nice. It feels full in one way, almost like if I was lost, as long as I can hear their bicker, I know I’d be safe. Like, I’m not really alone. I still miss you a lot. I’m not alone, but I feel a bit lonely without you.

I went to Lady Kocho’s estate for my annual checkup. Did you know Aoi’s growing vegetables? She promised that she’ll let me take some back to you when I’m done with training! I’m at the last stage, so I promise I’ll be over as soon as I can! I’ll make all the food, as much as you want. You already do so much just by simply carrying our baby girl and I’m so proud of you. I can’t even believe it myself. Our little baby will be here with us in less than 2 months.

I really regret being unable to stay with you through this stage. I wish I could hold your hair back when you have morning sickness, and despite how much I complain about it myself, I miss massaging your feet. Make sure to stay in bed rest like you’re supposed to!

The demon attacks have significantly reduced, and although it leaves a lot of time for us to train and grow stronger, I can’t sleep properly. I’m scared, My Love. I wish I was there to protect you. Remember the thunders? I still think about it a lot. It was one of the first nights we spent together. You were so scared and clung to me. I think that triggered something in me to a point I feel discomfort when I’m not with you at all times. I wish I could be of arm’s length to you.

I’m going to finish this entire thing as soon as I can. I had to run a few errands recently during one of my breaks, and I came across a shop which sold the most adorable baby clothes. I want to go to it with you before all the good stuff is taken. Imagine our little baby running around in a red kimono as tiny as hers.

It’s late right now, and I’m really tired. I’m saving all the stories so I can tell them to you when I come back. I’m going to go to bed, My Love. Remember, I’m away physically, but I’m still with you. We’re under the same stars.

Goodnight, Y/n. I love you so much, forever and always. Please tell our baby that her papa also loves her beyond worlds and he’s really sorry he can’t be there to tell her himself. I really love you two. Sleep tight♥︎

Your One and Only Darling Husband

Genya Shinazugawa

How many times have you read that same letter? Too many times. You lost count. But it wasn’t enough, somehow.

You read it again so many times you memorised the whole thing. Hell, you even wrote it down so many times you perfected his handwriting on it.

You just missed him so much.

“Ma.”

A tiny hand touched your cheek where a fresh tear was rolling on.

You looked down and looked at your 1 year old daughter, Hana, gazing up at you with her father’s eyes. It was so funny how the way she looked at you was exactly the same as how Genya looked at you.

“Hey, baby.” You smiled, quickly wiping your tears before kissing her forehead. “Sorry.. mama just misses papa so much.”

Hana toyed with your kimono slightly. She took interest in the smooth silk.

You leaned back on the pillar of the porch on your backyard of the house you and Genya purchased when you two were newlyweds. The night sky was pretty, and luckily enough, the stars were all visible.

“Hana, baby.” You kissed your daughter’s cheek to get her attention before gently turning around and slowly guiding her head up, letting her look at the stars.

“Whenever your papa was away, he always said that he was never truly away because we were under the same stars. Smart, isn’t he?” You smiled. Hana was gazing at the stars with her mouth slightly ajar in awe, her gaze fixed on one particular star which shone brighter.

“You see that? That star?” You whispered quietly. “That’s papa. He’s up there, looking over us~ As long as he’s there, we’re safe.” Tears started to fill your eyes again, but you fought them back. “He loved us so much that he became a star so he could protect us. Heroic, isn’t it?”

You turned your daughter to face you again before cradling her against your chest.

“Your uncle, Sanemi..” you grunted slightly as you stood up and started walking inside. “He’s coming over tomorrow. He’s going to tell you all about your father~ So get some rest, okay?”

It barely took any effort to lull your baby to sleep. You simply bounced her a bit and she was out cold.

Hana had her own separate crib, but in the same room as yours. You kept her warm and all snuggled up in her blankets before getting in the futon yourself.

You read Genya’s letter from habit. It had become a tradition to do so every night, and let one singular tear fall on the paper.

You read the letter for the nth time as the nth tear fell on the paper.

“Damn right you’re my one and only…”

[1d1195]

Faking It (Part 2)

You can read the first part here: Faking It it wasn't a great first part in my opinion because I wrote it on my phone while falling asleep but a lot of you wanted more:

@gem1712 @sunshinextemptress94 @fairytale07 @cherry01 @daniizstyles @igave-so-manysigns

so here it is :)

~3.5k words

warnings: smut. a lot of it. good girl, praise kink, doggy, oral, 18+ only please.

“We don’t have t’do this right now,” he offered. Maybe the conversation should have happened first.

“Scared you can’t make me come?” She asked delight dancing in her eyes.

He glared at her. “Don’t.”

Harry was the only thing that was on her mind. She was lucky her autonomic nervous system oversaw things like breathing because if it required any thought, she was a goner. Harry was kissing her. Her best friend was nipping at her lips and asking for permission to let his tongue into her mouth without words. His hands were touching, caressing, and moving all over her sides. He pulled on her belt loops to get her hips closer to his, angling her so he fit snuggly between her thighs, and she could feel the hard bulge through both their clothing.

Fortunately, her autonomic nervous system also controlled her heart rate and prevented a full-blown cardiac episode. Although, she felt as if it was still close. Only Harry could mess up the automatic responses of her body with just a press of his hard length against her core. She moaned softly at the thought of it inside her.

“S’good,” he murmured breaking his mouth away from her lips to press a kiss to just below her earlobe. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Keep moaning. Gonna make y’cum so hard,” he promised.

The only brain cell that wasn’t obsessed with Harry managed to squeak out her worry. “Um... sometimes...it’s hard for me t’cum,” she whispered. It should have been awkward to say that out loud. But this was Harry. Her Harry. If it was another guy, she would have blushed and felt worse but...Harry was kissing her skin and making her think of all the things she wished he would do to her so many times. Whenever he wore those sparkly vests that showed off all his muscles while he danced on stage... It was unfair that he was so hot. Now he was there, kissing her whole body, promising he was going to make her see stars.

“Oh?” He mumbled into her throat as he kissed down over her collarbones, his fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt at the same time coaxing her out of the clothing. “So y’better not fake it,” he murmured reattaching his lips to her making her wonder why they never did this before. “If it takes all night, love,” his voice was sultry, but she could hear the kindness of her best friend whispering a promise to her. Hiding in his practically pornographic whispers. “No faking it,” he repeated. “Wanna feel y’cum on my fingers...on m’tongue...on m’cock,” he was nearly whimpering into her skin.

Of course, she was flushed. “Can... we go in the bedroom?” She whispered.

Harry didn’t give any vocal affirmation, but she was suddenly in the air, over his shoulder as if she weighed less than a bag of groceries. She giggled slightly and pinched his butt since it was right in front of her face. It sparked a low chuckle from him, and they were in his room. It smelled like the candle he got her for Christmas. The bed was made with the sheets he got her for her birthday. “Don’t know how long I wanted this, kitten,” he promised as he deposited her on the bed so gently. No longer a bag of groceries but a delicate vase that needed to be wrapped in paper for storage.

Harry’s muscles were going to break her mind. “Me too,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” He paused his movements, which were undoing the button and zipper of her jeans and he looked at her with that face she adored so much. It was her best friend. The person she didn’t feel embarrassed or weird around. He probably knew her every thought before she had it. Harry had a knack for knowing what she needed. “Didn’t know that.”

“How could I not?” She asked. “You’re...you,” if it were anyone else it would mean Harry Styles. Boy band. Singer. Small time actor. Celebrity.

But on her lips...it wasn’t. It was just Harry. The person she told everything and never hid from. The one that watched her throw up with the stomach bug and hold her while she sobbed over heartbreak so bad that she got snot all over his T-shirt and he didn’t even care.

Harry already wanted to be inside her so very badly. He imagined it so many times while on tour buses and in hotel rooms. His hand fisted around his cock pretending it was her warm body imagining what she would feel like when she sent him voice memos of her singing to plants. He fell so hard for her just watching her wash dishes on FaceTime with him while he struggled to fall asleep in a hotel room that didn’t feel like their cozy apartment—although the was sure it would if she were there with him. She told bad jokes like he did and always laughed at his. Even when she had already heard it. Her smile lit up the room.

The moment he saw her he didn’t get butterflies. There was no symphony of classical music. Instead, his heart rate slowed. There was this glow around her. Like an aura of sunlight backlighting her figure. It was his best friend. The person he never felt like a celebrity around. It was just her and Harry when they were together. It should have been so obvious. This should have happened ages ago. But right now, he wanted to ask her all the thoughts he didn’t know; she wanted this. Had wanted this for a while.

Maybe he should have stopped and asked her more. They would have all the time in the world. But he wanted to prove that he could make her cum and that no one—especially her—would fake it with him. There would be time for questions later. Harry was certain that he could do it all with her. Everything.

Harry’s lips were back on hers, his kiss languid now and she felt it vibrate through every cell in her body. Her toes tingled and she had her hands fisted into his hair and pulled him closer to her. His hands pulled her jeans down her thighs and off her legs. His fingers trailed slowly up her shin, and he hooked it over his hip as he dipped down to grind against her and just the pair of underwear separating her from his clothing.

“You’ve never seen me naked,” she reminded him as he tugged his shirt over his head.

“Uh...” he chuckled sheepishly. “Might have caught y’leaving the shower a few times.”

She gaped at him. “Harry!”

“Oh please, kitten,” he rolled his eyes. “Know y’saw me when m’drunk.” Her cheeks turned this beautiful shade of red and imagined the times Harry came stumbling in the apartment and almost immediately stripping in front of her. “Mmm...” He unbuttoned his own jeans. “S’what I thought.”

“I like what I saw,” she admitted.

“Should have told me,” he murmured and dipped back down to kiss the length of her neck. “I loved what I saw,” he promised. “Take your shirt off.”

She had no choice but to obey him. She tugged her bra with her shirt leaving her nearly totally bare in front of him. She watched his eyes roam over her. Again, she expected it to be uncomfortable, but it was as if it was the only thing that made any sense at all.

Harry was looking at her as if she was a sculpture in a museum. His gaze was heavy and warm. “I don’t want t’stop looking at you,” he murmured. “You’re gorgeous, kitten.”

It felt like someone had set her on fire. His skin was warm against her body, and she tried to remind herself that this was her actual life. It wasn’t one of her really good dreams. His boxers were thin—so were her panties—keeping very little between them. The last bits of fabric separating each other from where she wanted him most.

“No faking it.”

“Somehow, I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” she tilted her head back to give him more access to her collarbones. She wasn’t one to have a display of love bites, but she wanted him to suck her skin purple and bruised with a reminder that he was really going to make her cum.

“Kitten,” he pulled away from her. He pinned her hands beside her head, pushed himself to hover above her. His cross dangled from his chest. It felt like it was hypnotizing her.

But Harry looked at her... like... like he loved her. “Any time y’want to stop, you say it,” he warned her. “Promise me.”

The air in her lungs felt like it was choking her. “Promise,” she whispered.

“Don’t y’dare fake it,” he reminded her again and pushed to the side of her body to tug his boxers off. She tried not to stare but he was so long and firm. It was impossible not to look.

“I can’t,” she spoke before she thought about what she was saying.

He smirked and looked down at her panties separating him from where he wanted to be most. “D’you have an attachment t’these?” He asked his finger dipping into the elastic of the half-lace, half-spandex fabric. She shook her head. “Good,” he murmured and ripped the hole he spotted in the lace when he pulled her pants down her legs earlier.

Oh, there was no way she would need to fake it.

“Gonna make y’cum so hard, kitten,” he promised bringing his mouth to the inside of her thigh and pressing wet, warm kisses on her soft skin. He was losing his mind being so close to where he wanted to be most. “Where’s y’cactus?” He asked teasingly.

She was gone. Harry’s breath was so close to the apex of her thighs. She was aching. He ripped her underwear off. His question didn’t even register in her clouded mind. She arched toward him wanting his mouth between her legs more than she ever wanted anything.

“Kitten,” he hummed his nose brushing against her sensitive thighs. She wanted to close her legs around his head. “Asked y’something.”

“What?” She asked.

He chuckled, his breath torturing her body in ways she never imagined. “Cactus.”

“No...” she shook her head. “Please no,” she whimpered. She didn’t want that. She wanted Harry. Wanted his lips on her and his cock inside her. She wanted him and only him.

“Just in case, love,” he promised. “Gonna take care of you, promise,” he kissed the inside of her legs. “Mmm...” he sighed. “Please, kitten,” he begged.

“Fucking hell,” she whispered and reached blindly behind her pillows and pulled the vibrator from the pillowcase and tossed it beside them on the empty space of her bed.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he moaned and pressed his lips to her dripping hole.

She gasped and arched immediately into his face, and he gripped the outside of her hips so hard they would certainly bruise. He was sinfully good at it. It felt like he knew exactly what he was doing. How on earth could he write a song about someone faking it? She was going to cum in seconds. His tongue dipped perfectly between her folds and pressed into spaces she didn’t know could feel so good. He slipped further up and flicked his tongue against her clit so expertly it felt like his mouth belonged between her legs.

“Feel like y’part of m’body,” he murmured into her thigh while he took a moment to breathe. The cool air made her spin as well as the words that came from his lips. She grabbed fistfuls of his curls and tugged him back to her center. “Y’like that, kitten?” He asked against her sensitive skin.

“Yes,” she whimpered. She couldn’t even give into the teasing in his voice. She couldn’t manage any sort of flirting. All she wanted was his mouth to lick her until she couldn’t move.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he sucked her clit between his lips so he could focus his tongue’s attention on the little bundle that would drive her mad. She keened and whimpered tugging on his hair. Her heels dug into his back as she tried to get him closer to her even though it was impossible. He couldn’t get closer. “Y’taste like heaven, kitten,” he murmured. He felt drunk on her. He would stay there forever. Even with the feeling of how hard he was had him rutting against her comforter. It was worth it. Just to smell her, taste her, kiss her most sensitive skin and lick every part of her that deserved the utmost attention. “S’good, baby,” he cooed. “Good girl,” he repeated as she pulled his hair harder. “Keep doing that,” he murmured. “Good girl.”

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“S’good, good,” he praised.

Holy shit. She could feel the heat spreading all through her body. She was going to explode, and she felt like she wouldn’t be able to stop if she didn’t do something right now. “Stop, stop, stop,” she begged, her voice breathy as she released his curls and removed her legs from their vice around his body.

Harry ripped from her immediately, alarm and worry painting his features. “What, s’wrong, kitten?” He asked. Her best friend was back. The person that worried about her when she fell asleep with a candle burning. The only one who seemed to care that she made it home safely when it was raining, and he wasn’t even in the same country as her.

Her breath came in pants, and she felt so utterly fucked out already she was so screwed when he was finally inside her. “Want you inside me,” she whispered her cheeks blushing with the request.

Relief replaced the terrified expression on his face. He even smiled so beautifully, like she was the most amazing thing he had ever had the pleasure of gazing at for any period of time. He thought she was regretting it. Hated it. Wanted nothing to do with him. The idea of losing his best friend was unbearable. This was manageable.

“Whatever y’want, kitten,” he promised. “Condom?” He asked. She tilted her head toward the nightstand.

“Uh...” she took a deep breath. “I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“How long is a while?” He asked.

“Uh...” she swallowed. “Like... a year?”

He paused his blindly felt search into her nightstand drawer looking for a foil square. “A year?” He asked in surprise.

She nodded. “I was kind of swearing off guys...till you came to your senses,” she was joking but Harry could see the worry the hurt in her eyes because this was his best friend.

He knew her last relationship fucked with her head a lot. He didn’t know it meant she had spent the last year fucking her fingers and toys because of it. “Me?” He mumbled.

“S’always been you,” she shrugged looking away from him. He knew that look. It was the feeling of inadequacy she got whenever she struggled with wanting to be the best in her class, her job, as a daughter, and a friend...a girlfriend. “You’re just...never here.”

This was suddenly not just about making her come so hard she would make her voice hoarse from moaning his name. This was to assure her that he adored her. Every single part of her. This was safe. This was okay because it was them. “Kitten,” he whispered. “You’re m’favorite person in the world.”

She nodded, feeling stupid to bring this up now. After he nearly had her in shambles from just his tongue. She didn’t look at him and Harry brought his hand to her face and turned her to look at him. His beautiful eyes. His perfect pink lips. The way he smelled like home.

“Kitten,” he leaned down to press his lips on her forehead. “Y’should have said something. Only an idiot would give y’up.”

“But you’re...” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I know you’re my Harry... but you are someone... someone important,” she whispered. “I’m just...”

“No,” he interrupted. “No, love. You are the most important person I know.”

Looking up at him through her lashes had his heart skipping a beat. He smiled kindly at her. “We don’t have t’do this right now,” he offered. Maybe the conversation should have happened first.

“Scared you can’t make me come?” She asked delight dancing in her eyes.

He glared at her. “Don’t.”

“No...m’good. Also, if you don’t make me come...after all that, I might cry.”

“Well...” he ripped the wrapper open with his teeth and slid the rubber over his shaft. “Definitely don’t want that,” he smirked. “What’s your favorite position, kitten?” He asked pumping his hand gently over his length along with the condom. At the same time he brought his hand down to her center lightly rubbing his index finger over her clit.

She felt embarrassment flood her body. “Um...”

“No faking, I’ll know,” he promised dipping his finger lower between her folds. As if this was normal. A conversation that two best friends had all the time while they looked at each other naked. She closed her eyes and pushed herself over until she was on all fours. Harry moaned. “Beautiful,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her fleshy backside before he lined himself up behind her. “Say if it hurts, angel,” he mumbled. She felt the tip of him enter her, but it didn’t seem to matter that she was dripping with desire for him. He felt enormous as he slowly slid in. He was patient and slow and paused periodically until his torso pressed snuggly against her pretty bum. She moaned low and arched so her hands gripped the top of the mattress below the pillows, her face smushed against the comforter. He tilted his head back and moaned in response, the condom doing very little to prevent him from feeling like exploding inside her just from entering her. “Oh, s’good, angel. Good girl. Taking me so well,” he crooned. She felt like his voice was going to send her into a spiral. It never felt like this. It felt like she was meant to have Harry inside her. “S’that good, baby?” He asked hands gripping the outside of her hips. “Y’feel like heaven, love,” he moaned. “Think m’gonna last two seconds when I start moving.”

She managed a light laughter, but it felt so good to be wrapped around him. His fingers digging into her skin made her feel so...good. “You can move,” she told him.

“Yeah?” He croaked feeling so heavenly already. She dropped her chest to the mattress and Harry thought the curve of her spine dipping was so fucking gorgeous he practically wanted to cry. “Y’sure?”

“Please.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Slowly he pulled himself out till just the tip of his cock was in her warm, wet pussy and then slid back in a little faster. She moaned and Harry felt her clench around him at the same time. “Oh,” he groaned his hand sliding down the length of her spine and gripping a handful of her bum. “Careful, kitten,” he whispered.

She was backing herself up to him as he pressed forward creating this heavenly feel that made every part of her shake with desire for him. “No faking,” he murmured.

“No faking,” she repeated breathlessly.

“Good girl,” he cooed rubbing her sides as he snapped his hips toward her and enjoying the view of her naked skin before him. He smacked the side of her bum not quite hard, but not quite gentle. She whimpered and clenched again making Harry gasp out. “Oh good girl,” he grunted his voice hoarse with desire. “S’good. Do that again,” he spanked her with the same force again. “S’a good girl.”

“Harry,” she could feel the knot in her stomach unraveling. She moaned into the mattress, her heart rate skyrocketing. “I’m—”

“Good, good girl,” he praised. “Cum. Cum all over me, good girl,” he whispered. Leaning forward to reach around her hip and pressed on the bundle of nerves to set her over the edge.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered breathlessly her body slumping forward as Harry felt the waves of pleasure cause her to flutter around him making his mind spin while he tried to focus on riding out her orgasm so she felt it for as long as she could. She was twitching and whimpering as the waves subsided and Harry kept pumping into her.

“Good girl. Right there, kitten,” he whispered. “M’right there,” he promised croaking out the words thickly as he finally spilled into the condom with three final deep pumps. He pulled himself out causing a hiss to escape his lips. Her hips slumped down to the mattress and Harry twisted off and tossed the condom into the trash by her bedside.

He turned her over to her back so he could gaze at her lovingly. It made her stomach twist. “No faking?” He asked cupping her face as she took deep breaths. The smile on his lips made her crazy with adoration for him.

“Yeah,” she smirked. “Faked the whole thing.”

He chuckled. “Want your cactus?” He smirked.

She shook her head and pressed her face against his chest as she brought her hand to his face and kissed him softly on the lips. “M’good,” she promised.

“Good.”

“You didn’t fake it, did you?” She asked.

“Oh kitten. S’no way,” he kissed the top of her head. “S’all you. Always been you.”

-

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[eliotquillon]

How does josie react to the proposal and does she throw a bachelorette party?

(context for those who’ve missed my previous asks: josie is the OC-ified embodiment of cameron’s one annoying friend who chase mentions hating + actively avoiding in s4, because i am obsessed with her as a concept)

HMMM okay. basically her engagement reaction can be summed up as: 😬.

josie was an incredibly reluctant enabler of cameron during her ‘ghosting chase after finding the ring’ era, and i say reluctant not because josie started liking chase at this point (she still hates him) or because josie thinks cameron is in the wrong for thinking chase is rushing and getting cold feet as a result (she doesn’t), but more so because she thinks that cameron should give chase a piece of her mind and get into a confrontation with him about it. which like. has she ever met cameron, lol. but this is what josie probably would’ve done if she were in this situation (not that she ever dates) and therefore it’s what she thinks cameron should do. so when cameron tells her that she talked things out with chase and they’re engaged (incredibly sanitised retelling) josie is sort of relieved that cameron said her piece, but is NOT relieved that it ended in an engagement. but also josie’s the kind of freak who thinks marriage is both completely meaningless and yet has way too much value to ever be entered into with a guy you’ve been dating for less than 10 years, so honestly her dislike of chase isn’t the only factor to her lukewarm response here. she’s happy when cameron’s happy, so she keeps the big eye roll to herself, but she’s not thrilled. definitely reminds cameron to get a prenup. when cameron asks her to be her maid of honour she ultimately accepts but spends weeks dreading the interactions with chase’s best man (who, as much as i would love it to be foreman, is likely just some random friend from his weekend soccer team) because for all his flaws AT LEAST CHASE IS A DOCTOR and this guy isn’t.

cameron doesn’t have a bachelorette party for a couple of reasons - she didn’t have one for her first wedding (most of her college friends weren’t old enough to legally drink yet, for starters), and although she feels weird about ‘copying’ things from that first wedding she also doesn’t want to make this wedding seem like the ‘real’ one compared to the first, and is worried that having a bachelorette might make it look like that. she is also still slightly scarred from methgate and isn’t a big drinker. plus it makes it easier for her to ask chase not to have his own crazy bachelor party - not that cameron would ever ‘approve’ of chase having a wild bachelor party, but at least this way she can pat herself on the back a bit for being fair about it. she does have a nice girls dinner with her bridesmaids the week before the wedding and josie is on ‘do NOT say the b word (bachelorette)’ enforcement duty; nobody asked her to do this but cameron appreciates it anyway. also let’s be real here. josie is not the type of woman you want throwing a bachelorette party anyway. she thinks the term bachelorette is misogynistic and would tell everyone that hiring strippers is problematic. as ever, she is the most irritating parts of cameron dialled up to eleven. it is for the best that cameron doesn’t want one LMAO

(also bit of a tangent here: if cameron did have a bachelorette party, it would be so fucking funny if thirteen organised it. not because they’re friends - they’re not - but because i think it would ultimately devolve into thirteen trying to outdo house for wildest party and cameron trying to prove to thirteen that she IS fun and cool by overdoing it. only one of them succeed in this endeavour. it would be the worst night of cameron’s life, and undoubtedly the best of thirteen’s. josie would probably die.)

[thenerdyindividual]

hey! im obsessed with arthurs welsh christmas, that fic altered my brain chemistry. im searching currently, but i was wondering if you could rec any more of your merthur fics that are similar? (I think i specifically enjoyed arthurs pov and the whole low stakes of it all, just them falling for eachother.) it was so lovely. thank you for your help and also for writing such an incredible story, should be a real hallmark movie tbh.

Omg this was such a nice ask to see! If you’re looking for similar things, right off the bat would be

A B&B Romance in Modern Wales

Arthur Pendragon works sixty hour weeks and is devoted to his family name, until one night Uther goes just a bit too far. Restless and confused, Arthur gets into his car and drives until he can't. It is the middle of the night in a small village in Wales, and a helpful officer directs him to a B&B for the night.

There he finds a kindly innkeeper, his very weird historian gremlin nephew, odd people, odd situations, and even odder - himself.

A slightly absurd and very gentle story about coming back to yourself, finding a true family, and realizing that historian gremlins are actually really hot and rather amazing, and perfect to fall in love with.

That’s the most similar to Welsh Christmas. Features small quirky town, low stakes, and falling in love.

There’s also

Then and Now

Merlin skips a year of school when he is seven and ends up in Year Four instead of Year Three. The older kids all pick on him and the worst is by far Arthur. A stolen book brings Arthur and Merlin together, and they become best friends. Sadly, nothing they do can stop Arthur from being sent away.

Morgana pressures Arthur to hit on a guy in the pub. He does it to shut her up, but it turns out Emrys is actually a lot of fun to be around. One date turns into many. Arthur has never been happier.

Seems like fate had something else in store for Arthur and Merlin after all.

It’s a shorter fic, but you get childhood cuteness and then grown up flirtation and dating.

The Ethics of Sleeping with a Hot Stranger

In which Merlin meets Arthur at a club and goes home with him, only to find out that Arthur's occupation is less than undesirable. Good thing he has supportive friends who won't at all roast him for his poor life choices.

Merlin finds out Arthur is a cop and has a small crisis about it. But it ends in fluff and explanation of Arthur’s poor choice in career.

The Boy I Love, He Got Wavy Black Hair

Merlin heads out early one morning to help Lancelot in his classroom. When he meets Arthur at his office for lunch, his hair is different. Arthur is not a fan.

This one is a bit different since it’s established relationship, but Merlin catches lice. Much Arthur dramatics and teasing ensue.

Lastly, if you’re willing to go outside of straight up modern au, there is

You Hear Him Howling Outside Your Kitchen Door

Merlin thought a type-a student trying to break into his office to replace a section of an essay would be the strangest thing to happen to him, but then a man shows up on his doorstep naked and seemingly drunk. Giving that man a helping hand opens up the door to a strange hidden part of society in London. There is a group of lads who all live together and take way too much enjoyment in playing football together, but there is something more to them than meets the eye. Merlin just hopes it won't affect his growing relationship with their unofficial ringleader Arthur Pendragon.

It’s an urban fantasy au where all the knights are werewolves. It’s still got that fluffy falling for each other low stakes romcom vibe, but there also happens to be werewolves.

I hope these give you something to start with @isuckatbeinghappyallthetime! Thank you so much for reading my fics and for asking for more! That means so much to me!

[lettucebee17]

Hi! This is my first ask i've ever done, so I hope this isn't weird or anything but anyways

did you have anything else on your summer camp au? (I was just scrolling when I found it and became slightly obsessed) For instance do any of the boys find out about the mers/fae/magic in general? What do the staff like Vargas or Sam do at the camp?

anyways you've successfully given me brainrot about this little camp and I'd love for just any facts or ideas you may have!

Hello! Don't worry about your ask, you're doing fantastic!

I have so many random thoughts about this AU, it's just so hard for me to organize them cohesively for other people to understand (I really ought to get on actually writing it sometime....) Including but not limited to, this gem from my personal notes about the AU:

But to touch on your specific questions:

At the point when the AU would start (the beginning of the summer when all of them would be there and the freshman would be first years at the camp), no one has discovered any sort of concrete proof about any magic or the identities of the fae or the merfolk. Floyd has probably had a few close calls with specifically Malleus because Malleus likes to take walks at night by the lake and Floyd likes to swim at night, but Floyd is perceptive enough that he's heard him coming every time and has been able to hide under the water (touching on that though, there is a chance that Floyd has seen malleus without the glamour and knows about his horns, whether or not he would've said anything about that is up in the air).

There have also been a few weird happenings with magic that the campers haven't really been able to explain and Malleus and Lilia know are magic-induced, but Crowley is quick to brush things like that under the rug.

Things don't really start getting weird until Yuu shows up, since they have a weird thing going where magic doesn't affect them but is also kind of more attracted to them. So naturally, as whatever plot I will eventually fully establish unfolds, more and more of the boys will find out about the existence of magic (probably starting with the first years since they're friends with Yuu). Yuu also can see through the fae glamours and therefore can still see Malleus's horns and Lilia's ears and they definitely still call Malleus Hornton, much to everyone's confusion. I think they can also probably see little fish-like features in the Octatrio, like the tweels pointy teeth and perhaps square pupils on Azul, hints of merfolk markings, stuff like that.

I think people finding out about that stuff would probably unfold alongside the plot, plus certain people who are closer to the mers and the fae would find out over time.

In terms of the staff, they run activities and whatnot around the camp, Sam less so than the others since he's more in charge of supplies and goods (of which he always has far more than one would think possibly, especially since he doesn't ever leave to restock). But I think he still occasionally runs certain activities like movie nights or campfire stories, things like that. He also runs a s'more station at the campfire every night.

Vargas is in charge of most of the more physical activities (kayaking, horseback riding, archery, hyper specific summer camp sport, etc.)

Trein is in charge of mostly indoor, educational activites (teambuilding stuff, learning survival skills, crafts, etc.)

Crewel is in charge of the more nature oriented activities (hiking, ropes courses, identifying edible plants, etc.)

I toyed with the idea of having a counselor in charge of each cabin but there are only four of them so three cabins would be left with probably nameless ocs for counselors, but it's still a possibility (if I went with this idea, Sam would be in charge of Octavinelle, Trein would be in charge of Heartslabyul, Vargas, Savanaclaw, and Crewel, Pomefiore). But that's TBD.

Sorry if I rambled for a little while, I don't know if any of this information is really that comprehensive or helpful... But I hoped you enjoy it anyway, I apologize for the brainrot but also, welcome to the club!

[bagelrites]

Hello dear Amie bagelrites I have a question. Would you say the skephalo dynamic changed after they met in person? did the gay pining get better or worse or did it stay the same? Also do you think they will ever get their shit together or are they doomed to simply be boy best friends forever. I would love your opinion if u want to give it ^_^ 📋🖊

oh boy oh boy!!! it did for sure change, but it's part of a larger pattern of change. Prior to meet-up they went through a period where there was clear and uncomfortable tension, and a bit of emotional distance between them, which culminated in Skeppy posting the "Best Friend" music video. They must have had some kind of talk which including agreeing in much more solid terms that they were going to meet up after that, and things seemed to smooth over. Skeppy acts jealous when Bad meets up with q first, but it's clearly playful and very um... it feels like how dream said he doesn't mind George meeting other people first because when he meets George it's gonna be forever? A bit like that? Except the forever part is perhaps delusional on Skeppy's end... See, because when they first meet up, Skeppy is happier than we've ever seen him. That night, he joins q on a twitter space and says, giggling the most love-sick giggles I have ever heard, that he thinks Bad is going to move in, and he's just "giving him a vibe."

Anyways. Their online closeness seems to translate very, very well to in-person closeness. If you want to see the extent of that, watch some clips from Hannah's valentine cookie stream and the stream Bad did where Skeppy was sleeping in the background (and where they open a fan package that has a skephalo flag in it. and hold it up to the camera and seem very happy about it.) Something shifts after this in that their on-camera bickering seems far less like actual annoyance and much more like a practiced bit they love to do (which, to be fair, it always was, but man... it just hit different right after meet-up). The second meet up is much the same, they seem really obsessed with each other and sweet to each other (Skeppy eating the hot chip on the munchy crew hot wings stream because he "needs to suffer with bad" for example). They even seem to have gone on a date (???) at this time.

But now they haven't met up in a while, and the last time they did, things were slightly weird? Like mostly still acting cute and obsessed as per usual (Bad singing Skeppy's name as he walked around the hotel and getting that plushie from the claw machine that reminded him of Skeppy, for example) but Skeppy seemed a little... off? In Bad's stream from the vidcon hotel room? Like, he does not seem happy at all about Bad continually suggesting that they log onto q smp and talk to his egg. And now... idk. They've had some pretty typical skephalo crazy-isms on twitter, but Skeppy isn't posting that many videos, and it's hard to tell what's going on behind the scenes right now because we just can't see it.

Honestly? They could be fine. They could be talking a lot off camera because they realize their off-camera relationship is important, too, or they could be getting weird and distant again. We just don't know. I am firmly in the camp of delusional skephalo believers, though, and I do think it's completely possible that they'll get together and actually have a stable, functioning relationship someday. I just think it's gonna take a while, as do all things with them. But, hey! They met up after like 3 years and most of us had given up on that! Maybe they just need 3 more years to move in together, you know?

[moreaugriffins]

Imagine Peter getting a call in the middle of the night

him thinking it's probably Ray getting excited about a definitely haunted hairbrush, and letting it ring

eventually picking it up as it continues to ring for a few minutes, only to find out it's Egon's wife

She's stressed, and worried, and Peter isn't sure why she's ringing him

But Winston isn't picking up the phone, and she knows that Egon and Ray have been arguing a lot recently so...

But she's worried

Because Egon's not doing well. He hasn't been sleeping much, or taking care of himself much (which Peter had noticed every time they went on call together), he's been muttering weird stuff, and obsessed with his notes and books, and usually she can help stop him spiralling but he's been pulling away recently, and spending less time and home and-

"He hasn't come home yet"

Egon always comes home, they made an agreement years ago. He's never broken the agreement before

So she's worried

And Peter is too

He knew Egon wasn't doing well, but they were men in their 40s, Egon wasn't a child, he could look after himself, and it was not Peter's job to monitor him. If Egon was struggling, he could speak up. He knew he could come to his friends for help

Then his mind casts back to the time in uni when Egon tried to drill a hole in his own head, how it all started just like this: the sleepless nights and obsessive studies, and pulling away from everyone, even skipping his lectures.. Peter and Ray just about got there on time.. Though Peter joked about the incident now, he's still rattled by it

He's still pretty rattled by many of Egon's vaguely suicidal experiments

He says he'll go look for Egon (after all, she's got a toddler to keep an eye on)

Reassures her that he's fine, that it'll all be fine, he probably just hyperfocused on the proton packs or something, you know how he is

It doesn't reassure her much - he doesn't even believe his own words either, but what else can he say

After the call, he heads to the Firehouse, knowing that if Egon was anywhere, it would likely be in the lab. It was practically the scientist's second home

He storms up to the lab (the place felt eerily quiet. Janine doesn't work at night anymore, Winston has his own home, and Ray has his flat above his shop)

the light is on

that's something

He opens the door, expecting to see Egon in a chaotic state (or god forbid...), and to be fair, the room is an utter mess, with books open, numbers and scripture written on the whiteboard, a pile of empty Twinkies packets around the bin stuffed full of crumpled papers

and in the middle of this mess, is Egon, head in hands, book open in front of him. It's subtle, but he can see the rise and fall of his shoulders

at least he isn't dead (he ignores how worrying that thought is)

He goes over to Egon and whacks him over the top of his head - usually an affectionate gesture from Peter (the affection is slightly lost)

"Come on Spengs, you really leaving your wife at home?"

Egon looks up at him, brows furrowed, and a practised guarded expression, though his eyes gave away the deep exhaustion and paranoia the scientist must be feeling

If it were Winston, he'd know the exact thing to say to Egon, a talk on how his actions are making his (Egon's) wife feel, and to get his act together, with the reminder that everyone was here for him

If it were Ray, despite all the arguments the two had recently, Ray would comfort him, know the exact words to calm the man and ground him back in some sense of reality - those two understood each other on a level like no other

But it was Peter here, right now

And he's not good at emotional conversations or situations. A serious conversation makes him feel like he's going to break out in hives. It's easier to joke than deal with emotions. (that's why he and Egon got on well. Neither liked talking about how they feel)

So when Egon replies with ramblings about Gozer, clearly lost and not in his right mind, Peter makes a couple jokes, he deflects from Egon's worries and brings the man down to the kitchen to make a hot chocolate to calm Egon's mind (that's what they used to do, right?)

There's more talk, mostly from Peter, about some studies he's working on (that are mostly accurate), and how Dana and Oscar are doing, and the show because oh boy does he have a story about that one man who believed he could communicate with fish-

Egon is barely engaging, Peter could see, his mind is elsewhere, running at a million miles an hour, doing complex calculations and making connections. Peter didn't envy the man really - it must be difficult having a mind so clever and loud.

So when he can tell the talking isn't working, he asks "We defeated Gozer, remember? when my girlfriend was turned into a dog, and Stay Puft got the biggest commercial for free, and we crossed the streams. He's gone forever, right?"

Egon seems to come back to reality for a moment, and they stare at each other, before Egon nods slightly and finally takes a sip of his hot chocolate.

Peter eventually drives Egon home, selfishly because he wants to keep an eye on his friend for a little longer, but Egon doesn't utter a word. That's fine. The silence makes Peter's skin itch but it seems to be doing Egon some good.

They arrive at the house (the living room lights are still on), and Egon goes to leave the car, but Peter reaches over last minute, his mouth moving faster than his brain, "All you gotta do is ask, if you need help. We're still your mates, yeah? I don't know what goes on in that brain of yours but you aren't alone."

Egon seems to be mulling something over in his head, then pulls away from Peter's grip - "Goodnight Peter." - and heads inside.

Over the next few weeks, Peter keeps an eye on Egon

He seems to slowly get better

There are no more phone calls from Egon's wife (except one to talk about what happened that night), his eyebags seem to fade away, he talks less about Gozer, the notes disappear and the books are put neatly away or are packed up, and most importantly he seems to be arguing less with the group and making an effort to spend time with them

Then he's gone

and all the equipment and Echo 1 are gone too.

[dearaliya]

Five Nights at Freddy's: My longest love affair

Dear Aliya,

I know we have spoken at length about this, but what can I say? I always come back.

I cannot remember a time I have not be utterly obsessed with FNAF and I know there's probably not a time you could remember either. From day one I was enthralled, perhaps it was Markiplier's doing, but that is an entirely different train of thought.

Through the convoluted timelines, the constant piecing together of snippets and tidbits and everything refusing to make even a hint of sense, I've only wavered once in my love of the franchise. A dark time indeed, but I quickly realised the emptiness in my heart and fully immersed myself in my own weirdness continuing on to today.

How lucky am I that the movie has finally come out! After years of waiting, mostly thinking it was a rumour, I am fed so well by Blumhouse, Scott Cawthon and everyone else that made the movie possible. My rose-coloured glasses may be blocking deeper criticism, but we are all allowed one faultless glance back at our childhood and this has been my choice.

Shall we dot point? And stop me if I might spoil this for you!

Characters All of the favourites were here, as well as some I don't think I expected.

The gang, all beautifully done as costumes and a single animatronic by way of Foxy, stole my heart in an instant. Visual effects can be a tricky thing to handle so having the main characters be practical with only a few helping hands along the way was a choice I couldn't grin wider at. Jim Henson's Creature Shop, I salute you.

Seeing Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) as Mike Schmidt was a crossover I hadn't anticipated and what a time for him. He must be seeing a surge in attention now, considering there's that new Hunger Games movie coming out that I absolutely haven't mentioned. A renaissance for him indeed.

Matthew Lillard?? In my Springtrap?? They wrote this movie for me xx What a gem of a performance, even if the twist was ruined because of casting sheets. I think this was the character they needed to nail because William Afton is the reason anything exists and it's safe to say they nailed him.

My brain sure did itch when I saw Elizabeth Lail, though I didn’t remember her immediately. Lo and behold I do know her and enjoy her previous works, just as much as I enjoyed seeing her play Vanessa! Welcome to the party, you’re earlier than we thought you’d be but no less welcome! I’m excited to see how any sequels plays out, her being here now means a whole new continuity.

Plot For the critics who called it paint-by-numbers, predictable and decidedly unscary I have just one question.

What movie did you think you were coming to see?

FNAF is a franchise that thrives on jumpscares and the anticipation surrounding that, which wears off the longer you're exposed to it. More importantly, it's an adaptation of a game that's been around for a good long while and whose target audience is kids and of course long-standing fans. It's a gateway for anyone new and slightly interested to check out the games, where there is a lot more to interact with given that games are an interactive experience.

That being said, and with a heavy heart I admit, I get where some of the complaints stem from.

Bits and pieces of the story were admittedly disconnected. A few plot points seemed to pop their head in the door, wave and then leave again. My personal sticking point was the aunt who I’m pretty sure died. I'll have to noncommital shrug about it because she doesn't get mentioned again, despite her prominence in the rest of the movie.

Lore Deeply engrossed as I am, I know that nothing is static in the FNAF continuity. A few things remained the same, which is great! William still gets springlocked, Golden Freddy is the most vengeful of the bunch, so on and so forth.

Some things changed.

William is now the father of just Vanessa it seems, no longer Michael, Elizabeth and a third child named ????? which I don't know how to pronounce. If more movies do happen, we're following a new-ish continuity which may further the headaches of the theorists (MatPat you've suffered greatly) but it gives me more content to consume so at least I'll be fed, fat and happy a-la-garfield style.

The books don't follow the games don't follow the movie don't follow the other games and nothing ever sticks or makes sense. It's a very standard affair.

EASTER EGGS

Oh boy was this movie full of fun little treats for the longtime fans! I felt like a zoo animal laden with enrichment activities, there was not a single moment I didn’t spot something in the background and wiggle with glee. I was a very respectful movie guest, no noise from me but I did swat my poor companion several times.

Here are my favourites!

Dream Theory Book

ITS ME, written on the foggy mirror

MatPat, oh how delighted I was to see you.

The crossing road game on one of the thugs shirts.

LivingTombstones Song!

And of course, all the other little treats we were given.

Nothing more comes to mind, so I appreciate you listening to my thoughts. I’ll see you next time, stay well!

Hannah xx

[white--moon]

Ichigo being salty about him not being naked and readily available as often is funny and flattering. "I'm at home naked plenty. Enough that you came across it even before you were tryin'. You're not gonna miss out on anything." It's good to know he's not the only obsessive one in this relationship- Which is a thought that immediately makes his stomach do something weird and uncomfortable. They talked about it, they agreed, it's a relationship now, but he still doesn't quite believe it. Like if he mentions it, he'll get a funny look and he'll have to question his understanding of the entire conversation they had. If Ichigo told him he must have had a fever dream and he was making shit up, Shiro might believe it.

He scoffs, "I have a vivid imagination. It's a good look, trust me." He is definitely biased, but in this case, he doesn't think that's relevant. He's thought Ichigo was hot as hell right from the start and he's pretty confident he's not the only one that thinks that.

It takes him a short second to parse what Ichigo's saying through the nothing but combat boots and a big knife image, but he laughs. "We would'a made a mess of that jello." The hospital gown has a tie for a back. He's absolutely into it. "Should'a stayed at the hospital for another night. Told your sisters to sit in the hallway and cover their ears."

What is that smirk he's getting for? His brows furrow ever so slightly while he's looking at Ichigo. "Sleep," It's not even a competition. Ichigo looks sore and ready to drop. Shiro feels ready to drop, but more mentally than physically. If there were gods, or a god, or karma, or whatever, he would have thought he'd had enough stress and hassle to last a lifetime by now and shouldn't be forced to deal with this Yhwach bullshit. If he thinks about it too hard, he still gets a little pissy that Ichigo went and ruined a good thing for him, all because Shiro got mouthy and Yhwach got handsy and Ichigo has higher standards of acceptability than Shiro, or whatever. But it's fine. It's done, it can't be changed. He just refuses to dwell on it so he doesn't get pissed again.

The way Ichigo kisses always steals the air from his lungs. He really doesn't get it. He's never been much into making out and he's never particularly liked someone enough for real kissing, but Ichigo's different. The kind of different he doesn't want anyone to know about, so they can't try taking him away.

Ichigo starts moving around and it takes a moment to realize he's trying to pull his leg free from behind Shiro. Shiro lifts his weight a little, so he's not leaning back against said leg, but also drops his hand so he can run fingers along the entire length, thigh to calf, while Ichigo's moving. He settles back against the couch again when Ichigo slides across his lap, which is exactly where he wanted him from the start.

He groans under his breath, hands settling on Ichigo's hips, when Ichigo grinds down against him. He grips, strains upward in a lazy push of his hips, and fully realizes they're putting on a show in the middle of the warehouse, but really could not care less. He's done dumber shit in front of more people.

“It was ruined from the start. Business’s gotta go good.” For both of them, but especially for Shiro. If business collapses, Ichigo seems like he’s done ok job hopping thus far. But for Shiro, if it fails, and assuming he survives whatever the cause of its failure is, he has no idea how he’d move forward.

He pauses and his head tips to the side a little while he thinks about that, but he can’t get passed the image it paints long enough to figure out what kind of shop would have the right boots. He huffs a little. “Why’s that gotta be such a good look for you? Don’t you know how to look bad in something?” Ichigo looks pretty deep in thought himself, maybe seriously trying to figure out a place to buy boots. He’s pretty sure they could just look it up online. Or Ichigo could give him his knife back and get a more appropriately sized one. Shiro kind of likes the boots look though. His brows go up a little. “Outta what things? What were my options?”

He catches that hint of teeth, but he’s also so distracted with the warmth of hands against skin that’s been bared to the air all day. It sends a chill up his spine. He finally pulls his head from his hand, wanting to be able to touch Ichigo properly, but he kind of freezes up when a hand grips hhis hair and pulls his head back instead. The brief thought of how fucking easy it would be for Ichigo to slit his throat with that big ass knife sitting beside him flits through his mind before it’s gone. He groans quietly, shifting when his jeans start to feel tight across the front.

[noxiwrites]

Watching

Summary; Peter isn’t a creep. He knows he isn’t a creep. But when it comes to you- he can’t help but forget about that.

Warnings; Watching- stalking almost, wrongful use of his spidey powers (tut tut spider man), oral- Fem!Masturbation, getting caught, overstimulation, Recieving (Mainly female).

It was awfully cold in New York. The sun had set a long time ago and the night had settled in, bringing a cold chill and light snow fall along with it. You’d say this was your favourite time of year had you not forgotten to bring your coat with you this morning; the polarity of how warm it was compared to now was shocking.

“-So we could like, totally go see that when it comes out in cinemas,” MJ turns to you, walking backwards as the two of you exit the lecture hall in the media building of NYU. You can already feel the chill of the air outside without even being down the steps to the main lobby yet- possibly because so many people are leaving around this time, desperate to go home to their warm beds or whatnot- and the doors have constantly been open.

You nod your head, adjusting your tote over your shoulder and descending the steps that open up into the main hall.

There’s a few people littered about, some in groups, some stood alone.

You notice him, stood over by the bottom of the stairs. He’s got his earphones in, slightly hunched over with his backpack barely hanging onto his left shoulder. He hasn’t seen you yet- as a matter of a fact, he hasn’t even looked up from his phone yet.

Peter Parker was a strange man. He didn’t have many friends, other than you and MJ and Ned- although Ned wasn’t around as often as you would have liked after high school. It had crossed your mind plenty of times that if Ned hadn’t moved to Europe to study- peter wouldn’t have clung onto you and MJ like he had.

“Oh hey, it’s Peter.” MJ nudges you, smirk on her face as she calls out to him. A few heads in the lobby turn but you’re specifically watching his, the way he pulls a bud out of his ear, looking up the stairs that you’re coming down. He smiles at MJ and waves before his attention is on you, watching every step you take.

“He’s so gormless.” MJ mutters to you and you have to resist the urge to hit her.

That was the other thing you knew about Peter Parker. He had this strange obsession with you- according to everyone else, anyway. You couldn’t see it- because in your eyes he clung to MJ as much as he did you- but every time she pointed it out you couldn’t help but find yourself looking, just to make sure she wasn’t right.

So far, she wasn’t. You felt that he held that same appreciation to MJ just as much as he did you- especially since you thought that he had a crush on her at one point.

The both of you reach the bottom of the stairs, at which MJ and Peter do some weird fist-bump handshake thing as you stare on.

"Okay, let's go, because I'm starving," He finally says and you hear MJ agree, as they both begin to walk in front of you, talking about some nerdy stuff you wouldn't understand.

You're happy they leave you out of the conversation anyway, because it gives you more time to stare at the beautifulness of New York when it snowed. You couldn't have given less of a shit that it was light snow- because any snow made you all happy and giddy.

It's falling heavier now, yet bustles of people still gather on the sidewalk as if it's one of the sunniest days on earth. A dog trots by you, shaking off the snow on its back which flicks onto your leg, and its owner shoots you an apologetic smile as they carry on.

You reach the corner where you separate from MJ and Peter quicker than usual, but you leave it down to the fact that you've spent so much time zoning out watching the snow.

"Hey, are you not coming with us?" Peter's the one to ask, he and MJ stood in the middle of the sidewalk you're veering away from them, down the street that takes you towards your apartment.

You shake your head and MJ groans, throwing her head back before looking at you. "You're so boring." She throws, lifting her hand to give you the finger.

"I'm tired," you say, which is, in all honesty, true- you just can't be bothered being away from your bed anymore- especially after a day of sitting in those uncomfortable lecture hall chairs and MJ talking off your ear all day.

"Boohoo, stop crying about it and come get food," MJ demands, beckoning with a glare for you to join them on their side of the path.

You shake your head again, and as if your body was helping, a large yawn comes forward and out of your mouth. "M' going home. Goodnight guys."

MJ boos at you but turns, accepting your answer- sort of, whereas Peter stops and smiles at you.

"Get home safe." His voice is sincere, warm.

He's not like that with me, MJ's voice sounds in your head. You smile at him before he waves a final goodbye, turning and jogging to catch up with MJ.

-

By the time you’ve settled into your bed with your largest shirt on- you’re quite tired. Despite your obvious yearning for sleep, you turn your tv on and go straight to Netflix- choosing a show that you’ve had saved for ages but haven’t actually gotten around to watching.

You find out it’s actually quite boring. Like every other night, you end up picking up your phone, scrolling endlessly through tik tok until you will yourself to sleep.

Tonight, however, is different. You’re on the brink of sleep, so close, when a video pops up on your for you page that doesn’t quite belong there. A girl lip-syncs along to teachers pet by Melanie Martinez, the lighting red and all she has on is a skimpy outfit. Towards the end of the video, a hand reaches out and grasps at her throat, pulling her out of frame before the video ends. You watch it the first time in shock, and then the second time again out of curiosity- then jealousy- and then something else.

A tingle. Small, but noticeable. You wish it was you, in that video. You groan, not having the effort to do anything to yourself tonight and shut your phone off, chucking it beside you and turning over into your pillow more.

As you close your eyes, you imagine Peter. His hand, around your neck. Because now you think about it- you’ve noticed his hands. Always so veiny. You bet they’d look really good-

Your eyes snap open. The hairs on your arms raise and you can feel your pulse beating that much faster. You frown.

Had you really just fantasies about Peter?

Peter Parker?

The small beat between your legs is hard to ignore in the passing moments, but you’re still mad at yourself for thinking of Peter how you just did.

But you can’t help it. Now you’ve opened the door- everything is just flowing out.

His hair- you’re ashamed to admit that you’d love to rub your hands through it- and god, his arms when he wears tight shorts or short sleeved ones are just-

The wetness in your panties doesn’t surprise you. Your hands reach for the hem of the cover, tossing it off you to expose the bottom half of your body, where your shirt has risen up and exposed your pink cotton panties.

You throw a worried look to the window for a second, worried someone might be watching you- but then you remember that the apartment building across has no windows facing yours and it would be awfully weird for someone to be up on the fire escape at this time.

Delicately, you push your panties to the side and slide your finger through your folds, gasping at the slick you collect. You’ve worked yourself up that much mentally that when you touch your clit, you jolt slightly.

Peter watches you from the opposite building. He’s certain you can’t see him, because he can see all of you and that includes when he saw you checking for anyone watching. He knows it’s wrong. He can feel himself growing as he watches you slip a finger inside yourself, back lifting slightly off the bed and he knows he should leave but he just can’t.

He only came to check you got home safe, because he cared about you. He would have gone home and dealt with himself later.

But here you were, touching yourself so intimately and so delicately that he just couldn’t look away. He had only been imagining that it was him doing those things to you for months- and with every tug of his cock, he imagined it was you, or that sweet cunt of yours.

That was only his imagination. He had it pretty spot on- but by god, had he never imagined you to look how you did when you were in pleasure. And your pussy too- it looked so much better than his dreams, clit all swollen, dripping with wetness from what he assumed was you being turned on for quite sometime.

Is this what you ditched dinner plans to do? He wished he could know what you were thinking about that would make you like this.

He knew it was wrong. MJ had told him so many times to just drop the ball and ask you out so she could stop seeing him drool over you- but he couldn’t quite muster the courage.

This seemed good enough for him at the moment.

You’re working yourself in a beautiful way, teetering closer to your high with every stroke of your finger inside your sopping cunt. Your mind is occupying you with the thought that this is Peter, Peter, Peter! who is pleasuring you so well yet you’re too orgasm drunk to give a shit that you shouldn’t suddenly be thinking of him in this way.

Peter needs to be closer. He’s scared that he’s gonna forget this moment, and he needs to nap every part of your sweet, sweet body because he knows he’ll never see you like this again. He’d be surprised if he’d be able to look at you full stop after today.

He hops down the scaffolding on the top of the building to the fire escape, not having to worry about other windows because there are none. He knows you wouldn’t be exposing yourself like this right now if someone else had their window anywhere near yours.

He goes down further than he would have liked but now he’s level with your window, slightly encased in the shadow but not enough for him to be hidden. He hopes you’re too preoccupied fucking yourself to notice him- but all thought is lost as he’s closer to your cunt than before.

Muffled cries spill out from your mouth and drift out to Peter- he can’t quite make them out, but he relishes in them, loving that you’re loud. His eyes can’t leave you, or the way that you push up your shirt to expose your small, barely-coving-your-tits- lacy bra that you pull down to roll one of your nipples between your fingers.

His eyes drift down to your pussy, silently groaning as you add two more fingers into you. You’re going incredibly fast, and Peter can hear the faint squelching coming from you as well as seeing the dripping of your wetness, falling onto your bed.

He’s not sure how much longer he can hold on.

And then you moan his name.

He thinks he’s hearing things at first, so close to his own orgasm just from watching you- when he hears it again. Loud and clear.

“Peter, Oh m’fuck,” you whine, so close to coming. A breeze stop you, halters you- but by the time you’ve craned your head up to look who it is, he’s already fallen to his knees at the end of your bed, arms wrapping around your legs and pulling you close to him.

You pull your fingers out of yourself, shocked, and try to scoot away from him, but Peter doesn’t budge, wild eyes staring up at you from in between your legs.

“I heard you. Heard you, okay. Gonna take good care of you.” You’re quite confused as to how Peter was just outside your room- ready, listening- but you’re also annoyed because you had been teetering on the brink of your orgasm when he interrupted.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you, spreading you open with his fingers. His touch alone has you keening, falling back into the bed. You’re still not sure why or how he’s here but you’re not about to complain.

At least not at the moment.

He collects some of your slick with his index finger, spreading it about and making a mess- not that you weren’t already a mess, having worn yourself out on your fingers so bad that you had left a spot on your bedsheets- but you loose all thought as he pushes his finger inside you, long and slender and just oh so much longer than your own.

He curbs it upwards, watching your reaction when he finds your sweet spot and keeps his finger toying at it. You gasp, chest heaving and coil winding quicker than before. The sensation of him, Peter, the man that you were just fantasising about, touching you has your head spinning and your mouth begging for more.

And who was Peter to deny you? This was one of his favourite dreams, one of his best fantasies.

He adds another thick finger in, the stretch bigger than your three and you cry out. But he isn’t done yet, when his mouth attaches to your clit, slurping loud and clear with intent. Your eyes flutter shut- so, so close already, when his mouth detached from you and his free hand reaches up to grasp your jaw.

“Look at me. Watch me eat your cunt or you’re not gonna cum.” Your eyes snap open and meet his, which are impossibly darker than before, and as soon as he’s sure you’re looking at him, he bends back down and reattaches his lips to your pussy, fingers setting an unrelenting pace inside you.

“Please, pl, m’gunna cum,” you whine, hands finding purchase in his hair and tugging. Peter feels his dick twitch in his pants at your action, which only spurs him on, pushing into you even further and lapping at you faster.

You whine, particularly loud and Peter feels a gushing run past his fingers and out your opening. He laps, removing his fingers to let his tongue swirl around your hole, lapping up everything that’s coming out.

In the midst of everything, Peter feels himself let go, fuelled but his grinding against the edge of your bed and the sheer hotness of the situation. He’s not even embarrassed- because he’s been fantasising about this and you for months and the real life thing is so much better than what he could have ever imagined.

He’ll allow himself the embarrassment this once.

Your chest is heaving, nipples peaked and breath erratic. That’s like nothing you’ve ever had before, even better than your ex boyfriend and even better than your fingers. You’re pretty sure Peter made you squirt, something you’ve only ever seen in porn.

The thought of Peter makes you snap out of your cum drunk state, eyes looking down at the boy who’s also heaving between your legs.

“How did you get into my apartment, Peter?”

He panics. This moment was so perfect- everything he ever wanted- and he panics. Still, he shoots you a lopsided grin.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m Spider-Man?”

-

Part 2?

[harrowharkboygf]

rating the locked tomb characters by how good their met gala outfits would be

gideon nav

we can surmise from the “rapier with skulls puking other skulls” quote that gideon’s personal style, if she wasn’t beholden to the ninth house dress code, would be Loud and Tacky and A Lot. therefore, i think she’ll go all out with the theme. her outfit might not look objectively good per se — it will probably be a little too excessive and not super classy — but she will absolutely fulfill the theme and she will have fun, and that’s the most important part! 9/10

harrowhark nonagesimus

oh harrow will go all in on this. she will definitely be of the opinion that all guests should have to submit an essay explaining exactly how their outfit fits the theme, and she absolutely will get annoyed at the people who just wore simple black tuxes and dresses. she‘ll start planning her outfit months in advance, and it’s going to be incredibly complicated and very symbolic. her outfit is probably be a lot creepier and more goth than the rest of the guests, but it’ll still go perfectly with the theme anyways. 10/10

ortus nigenad

how much effort ortus puts into his outfit will depend SOLELY on what the theme was. if he thinks it’s a stupid theme he’ll put in zero energy whatsoever, and if he thinks it’s a good theme he will put in the work and come out with an outfit that’s definitely creative, even if it doesn’t look super great and is a little bit of a stretch on the theme. 7/10

judith deuteros

judith definitely does not care. she does not care at all, and if you asked her what the theme was, she couldn’t even tell you. she wears a simple black tux or black dress every year, and yes she looks hot as fuck and very classy and all of the gay girls on twitter go wild over it, but it’s not particularly creative or befitting of the theme. 3/10

marta dyas

marta cares a lot more than judith does, but she still focuses more on the event itself than the outfit; she’s more excited to dance, talk with her friends and acquaintances, and see other people’s outfits. if the met gala didn’t have a theme, she’d still be happy, but since it does, she’ll try to fit the theme as best she can! she refuses to sacrifice her own comfort or ability to dance in favor of an outfit though, which is very fair of her. no matter what, though, she looks good! 6/10

coronabeth tridentarius

oh you KNOW corona is acing this. she starts planning for her outfit a year in advance, but unlike harrow, she’s way less pretentious about it and willing to do something that might make fun of herself a little or make others laugh. she makes sure to call everyone she knows who’s going to make sure that their outfits won’t be too similar. she also makes sure that ianthe and babs’ outfits go good with hers. it’s the bane of her existence that judith won’t go to the lengths that she does. she fits the theme perfectly, she’s creative about it, and she looks hot as fuck. 100/10

ianthe tridentarius

as mentioned above, ianthe’s outfit is always designed to fit with coronabeth’s. it’s always very similar — not quite the same, but very close. same idea, slightly different execution. it’s always fitting with the theme, and looks really good objectively, but there’s a lack of investment and heart that ruins it a bit, especially next to corona’s extravaganza. still, when she’s next to the other guests, she definitely wins. 8/10

naberius tern

babs cares WAY more about looking good than he does about fitting the theme. his outfit is always a lot less creative than and themed than ianthe’s and corona’s. he never sidesteps the theme entirely, but he often refuses to go all the way in favor of not looking too weird. this is kind of a moot point, since he always looks a little weird anyway. 5.5/10

isaac tettares & jeannemary chatur

the awful teens were coordinating outfits each year, and each year they desperately want to fit the theme and do something cool, but they’re a little TOO eager about it. there’s always either a little bit too much going on with their outfits for the message to be fully cohesive, OR they didn’t go all the way because they were too embarrassed to do so. however, they definitely try their best and that’s what matters! 7.5/10

abigail pent & magnus quinn

abigail and magnus treat the met gala like a halloween party. they’re committed to the theme, but not in the militant, obsessive way that harrow and coronabeth are — it’s more that they have fun planning their coordinating outfits because costumes are fun! often their take on the theme is very nerdy and sweet, but maybe not super well done. still, they compliment everyone on their outfits and are so genuine about it that they get points anyway. 7/10

palamedes sextus

pal could honestly care less about the met gala, but he attends anyway and spends the whole night deep in conversation with anyone who will talk science with him. as such, his outfit is. Very Lacking. cam usually designs it for him and it fits the theme pretty well and looks objectively good, but he gets points off for not coming up with it himself. 5/10

camilla hect

pal and cam don’t wear coordinated outfits, but they are still somewhat cohesive, as cam plans them both. camilla’s outfit is definitely much better than palamedes’ is — it fits the theme and is more creative and she just generally looks hotter. however, she’s not putting the same level of energy most of the people listed above. but it’s fun, it looks good, and she passes the test. 7/10

dulcinea septimus

dulcie’s attitude towards the met gala would be very similar to magnus and abigail’s in that she treats it like a fun opportunity rather than a life-or-death situation, but she definitely leans more “tasteful” over magnus and abigail’s typical style of “dorky”. she follows the theme closely and she looks good! 8/10

protesilaus ebdoma

pro always goes with dulcie, and he just dresses in an outfit that she’s planned to be coordinated with hers. he’s a little bemused at the intensity of some of the others, but he goes along with the whole thing because it makes dulcie happy. points off for not coming up with his own idea, points added for looking very dashing regardless. ortus is fuming at how well-put-together his outfit is. 5/10

silas octakiseron

silas shares the same all-or-nothing attitude that ortus has towards the theme, but when he approves of the theme, his execution comes very close to beating out harrow’s outfit in terms of Drama and Sophistication. his outfits are often a little impractical — they’re hard to walk in or require elaborate props to be transported alongside him — but they’re worth it. 9/10

colum asht

colum just wears a suit the same color as whatever silas’ outfit is that year. boring! 2/10

augustine the first

augustine tries his hardest, but he never quite nails the theme. somehow, it always goes straight over his head, so when he explains it to people, they’re always like “*confused head tilt* hmmm, okay now i think i get it! huh!” he looks,,, fine in it, and he tries. he tries! 4/10

mercymorn the first

mercy’s sense of style in general is very good, so she always comes in a dress that’s fashionable and well-designed. the problem is that she actively abhors the idea of a themed party; she actively campaigns to the organizers each year to not do a theme. she thinks that everyone who does the theme is ridiculous. as such, she ends up with a low 3/10

cytherea the first

cytherea has a good Idea for the met gala every year, but for some reason — she bites off more than she can chew or she fails to accurately articulate her vision or she procrastinates until the last minute — that idea never translates into an actual outfit, so she always falls back on a simple, soft clinging dress. fashionable, but unfortunately not very standout-ish. 3.5/10

gideon the first

gideon (original flavor) just wears a boring black suit every year. THE most boring black suit ever. 1/10

pyrrha dve

okay, admittedly we haven’t seen that much of pyrrha in canon, but from what we do know, she is smart and talented and funny and good at everything and has a dramatic streak and is incredibly hot. therefore, i think we can surmise that she’ll absolutely nail her met gala outfit. it’ll fit the theme, it’ll be very original and very well-done, and she’ll be sexy as fuck! good for her! 15/10

john gaius

he wears the exact same black tux every year. the same one. he pays no attention to the theme whatsoever. this is very confusing, since HE is the one who organizes the met gala and picks the theme! weirdo! even worse, john makes a point to give backhanded compliments to people he thinks don’t fit the theme or don’t look good. bitch! -10/10

[unbelievably-sane]

I relate to this so much. With me, there were signs, like when I didn't understand why people were/are not very fond of long distance relationships (I mean you still get to talk and see eo thanks to an invention called phones), when I came to the realisation that friends were wayy more important to me than crushes or romantic partners, when I wondered (multiple times) why people dated when you could be friends, when I realised sex was real, not something just in books. Even when I came across the term and had to do some research for work purposes, I never thought it could be me. It took months of thinking, worrying, frustrated late night sobbings and going down the internet rabbit hole (which also included Tumblr) for me to think that I might be ace. The realisation was something huge for me, because till then I was also associating my asexuality with my introversion and shyness and generally being a weirdo lol. But then knowing I am ace felt like something had unlocked within me, like everything was less foggier.

I often joke that on days my brain gives me shit, I'm acephobic enough that others' opinions don't matter. There are days when I'm confident and okay and even proud of it and then there are days where I wish I wasn't like this. I don't know what it's gonna be like in the future, I might have to come out to people I don't really want to tell and I'll most probably feel the guilt that comes with being ace and having a partner, but I am trying to be optimistic that things will turn out okay for me. That I wouldn't have to compromise this part of myself, that I wouldn't be ashamed or that doubtful and negative of myself.

Soon I started looking out for books with ace characters, so Loveless was basically the Bible to me lol. Even tho I'm allo romantic and Georgia isn't, reading her experience and finding common points made me cry ngl. And somewhere in the end where one of her friends says that one long paragraph, I'd be lying if I said I've never thought about that. The fantasy of living close to/with your friends, seeing each other everyday, being there for each other through everything big and small. A bit unrealistic but we all have our little fantasies in our head.

On a side note, my friends see my obsession with Heartstopper and Alice's books as slightly weird at the least but it's hard to explain to them how much the friendships in those works mean to me and how happy it makes me to see characters having healthy conversations, the ace rep I loved seeing and the fact that the creator herself is an aro-ace person who wrote a whole show which focuses on different forms of love apart from romantic love. At this point she is basically feeding me with all my favourite tropes lol.

Am I too old to be realizing that I may be in the ace spectrum?

I have just been thinking long and hard about it, and I’ve been exposed to much more representation (mainly Heartstopper) that made me look into it, do some research, and come to a realization.

And that realization is that no, there’s nothing wrong with me and my lack of desire to find a romantic/sexual partner. I don’t think I’m necessarily asexual, but I do think I’m demisexual or greysexual.

I’ve sort of identified as a demisexual for a few years now, after learning of the term through a youtuber that I follow, but I was honestly never sure, and I continued to question myself. Maybe it’s just because I’m an introvert and a weirdo, maybe I’m just not trying hard enough, maybe I’m just very insecure, maybe it’s some sort of internalized trauma, maybe I just haven’t found the right person…

But these past couple of years, and most recently about a month ago, I did some serious introspection, and yeah, I don’t need to look for excuses or explanations, it’s just the way I am. And that’s fine. And I’m glad that there is an identity for me, I feel validated and less alone.

I’m feeling considerably more comfortable in my skin and in my head since I’ve been having this introspection, and I feel like it’s even helped to begin to alleviate some anxieties and insecurities that I’ve carried with me for a long time.

I do think I’ll probably still second-guess myself on occasion, because that’s just what I do. But maybe I won’t, or not as often, or less and less with time. I want to learn to appreciate this part of me, and perhaps bring myself to talk about it with some people that I trust. I hope to learn to have the confidence to face any criticism or questioning or invalidation that might come my way. And I look forward to meeting other people in the spectrum with whom I can have conversations and find community.

Representation matters. I wish I had had access to the information and media that I do now (like Alice Oseman’s comics and books, and even Alice Oseman herself, who identifies as aroace, and many more), perhaps I would have been more confident in myself and my identity, perhaps I would have saved myself a lot of second-guessing. But late is better than never, or really it’s never too late to learn something new, especially about yourself.

I feel like a weight has been lifted. I feel lighter.

[harryhoney-bee]

Could you 12 from the fluff list? And please make Y/N a lil cheeky 😂❤️

Thankyou 🌞

Me and my husband, we're sticking together

Hii, I think you meant the smut list, hehe

Summary: Harry and Y/n have a quickie before going out.

Warning: unprotected sex

Word count: 1.5k

"If you don't change out of those shorts and into some pants I'll have them by lunch," Harry said playfully, making eye contact through the mirror.

The couple had agreed to go to a breakfast party to commemorate Y/n's co-worker's job promotion, one that Harry happens to be very jealous of. She wasn't dumb, she knew that nick - the guy - would stare her up and down whenever she walked in a room, she just didn't care enough about him, very differently than Harry.

"Yeah, of course, I'll do that," she said rolling her eyes, " I don't know why you worry about him so much, I've already told you he looks at everyone like that."

Harry hugged her from behind, kissing her neck and slightly sucking on it, "I'm not everybody's husband, am I?"

"You just care too much with things that shouldn't matter," the girl said, feeling the bulge of his thigh on her behind, "Harry we don't have time."

Y/n knew what he wanted, his body language saying everything. Harry had a weird obsession with having sex before they had to go out somewhere, he was just very persuasive.

"Please, just a quickie, ya look good right now," his hand went below her shirt, feeling her tits since she wasn't wearing a bra, "always so pretty sweetheart."

She looked at him in the mirror, his tongue and teeth playing with the skin of her neck while his fingers were playing with her nipples, his other hand pressing her lower back into his hips.

"You need to be very fast, though," she breathed.

The man didn't need anything else, he quickly took her shirt off and took her body in his arms, sitting on the bed while she sat on his lap. His mouth promptly found her nipple, sucking on it gently while his other hand pinched the other one, making the girl moan and lean into him.

"Such a good pair of tits, makes me want to love on you all day," he whispered on her chest, going back to the breasts and leaving hickeys on the skin.

The girl started to hump against his hips, the rough fabric of her shorts creating amazing friction on her clit. Harry noticed her actions, taking a hold of her hips, making her rub herself even more. "Feeling good, baby? You like to hump on my cock like that?"

Y/n nodded, hugging her arms on his neck, picking up her pace, "want you to cum on my cock, though. What about we take those clothes out so I can make you feel good?"

"Alright, H," she said breathlessly, swiftly getting off his lap and stripping out of her shorts, wearing only a cotton white underwear, which already had a wet spot on it.

"Come on," he said, so she could stand close to him, her cunt right on his face, given the height of the bed. Harry held her love handles, bringing his mouth over her clothed pussy, his tongue lapping the fabric and feeling her arousal.

"So ready for me sweetheart. I know you said to be quick, but I just want to spend something eating you, alright?" He barely waited for her answer, his lips were already attaching to her clit.

"Right there Harry," she said, pulling his hair.

He took the inside of her thighs and spread her legs so he could have more space, "you taste amazing, baby." He murmured, taking the fabric of her underwear to the side and finally coming in contact with her bare pussy.

His tongue was playing with her wetness, trying to feel all of her with the tip of his tongue. The girl was a moaning mess, his tongue making her feel as if she was in heaven.

Harry abruptly took his mouth off of her, which made the girl complain, "Hey, no whining," he said harshly to her, grabbing her jaw, "you behave or else I’ll be the only one cumming, understand? Now, take your panties and get on the bed on your knees."

Y/n did what he told her, getting on the soft mattress on her knees, head turned to the headboard. She felt the bed dip behind her, moments later Harry was kissing her neck eagerly, "I hope that stupid boy that works with you can see all the hickey on your skin, 'cus you're my wife, my pretty hot wife."

"Just yours Harry, no one else's," she shivered, holding his arms to gain balance.

"Got you all naked for me on my bed, how lucky did I get to have someone like you? So fucking beautiful," his raspy voice met her ears, "why don't you get on all four for me? Need to fuck your cunt, gonna fill you up."

Harry watched the girl get in position, he promptly found a pillow to put under her hip, so she could be more comfortable. Her hole was already dripping just waiting for him.

He opened his zipper and pulled himself out of his boxers just enough so he could still be dressed, his cock was already hard, dripping pre-cum. He took two of his fingers, sinking them on her opening, making the girl moan, "liking that, baby? It's just my fingers yet." The man continued to fingering her, her walls contracting against his fingers while he was teasing himself, stroking his shaft with his hand.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, all spread open for your husband," he jerked, "While I'm here, fully clothed.

He picked up his pace with his hand, he wanted to be on the verge of cumming, so they could be quick and get at the stupid breakfast on time. His fingers were also working fast on her cunt, his thumb hitting her clit.

"H, I'm gonna cum, please," Y/n begged.

With that, Harry took his fingers off her, also freeing his cock from his hold. "You're only gonna cum on my cock, love."

The man got his body closer to her ass, being right in front of her openings, he took the head of his dick and applied pressure on her opening, just teasing and spreading her wetness. He made up and down movements around her slit, as the girl underneath him would whine, wanting to be fucked.

When he felt like he couldn't do it anymore, he slammed himself on her cunt, staying deep inside her, giving the girl some time to adjust, "how is it? Is my cock filling you up?" He asked, looking for compliments.

"Yeah, feel you so deep, please fuck me," she cried, with her head buried on the pillow.

"Shh, don't worry, gonna give it to you real good," his hips started working on her roughly, feeling the warmth of her cunt.

He was pounding inside his wife, holding to her hips with one hand while the other was playing with her clit, trying to make her orgasm as fast as she could. Harry lent into her body, whispering to her ear, "need you to cum, we need to leave in less than 10 minutes," he let his body fall into hers, only one hand holding him from crushing her body.

His cock was barely leaving her pussy with the thrusts duo to how deep he was. She was pulsing around him, she was close. "Cum for your husband, Y/n, go on."

With the pleasure of his finger on her clit the girl released, rolling her eyes as the pleasure took control of her body, which was shaking from the orgasm and from her husband thrust, who was trying to achieve his pleasure.

"Fuck baby, I’m almost there," he growled, kissing her cheek, concentrating on the movements of his hips.

The pounding was desperate, with barely any rhythm, he held her body against his back, jerking his hips frantically into her, until he felt a pressure on his balls, cum leaving the tip on his cock and hitting her cervix right after.

He moaned in her ear, kissing her back and trying to be as silent as possible as he made lazy movements, trying to get all of his cum to go inside her.

The girl was moaning sweetly, being overstimulated by him. After a few moments Harry finally decided to pull out, holding onto her hips and watching his cum dripping out of her, he took his fingers and put it back into her pussy, "gonna take your underwear, love" he said after tucking himself into his boxers and pants.

He placed the underwear on the leg holes and helped her get dressed, a new spot forming from having his cum, "want you to keep me inside, alright? When we get home I’m gonna love on you all night," he kissed her, giving the girl her shirt and her shorts, "see, told I would have them by lunch," he teasingly said.

Hii guys, please like, reblog, and give feedback here (I hope the link works) I'm very tired now, so byee, hope you guys enjoy it, see you tomorrow <3

[aellynera]

Hi love! Can you do a Oscar Isaac x reader where they do the buzzfeed video reading thirst tweets and he gets jealous of the tweets? Thank you so much, I love your page. ❤️

Hello lovely Nonnie! I’m sorry this took so long, but I finally got super inspired to finish it. It’s not Oscar Isaac per se (I don’t do RPF) but I thought about it a bit and I was like...but I will do a Llewyn AU. So that’s what I did, and here it is, and I hope you and whoever else reads it, enjoys it! (note: most of the tweets came from various Thirst Tweet videos on YouTube, but there are a couple I just made up.)

I Want Llewyn Davis to Blank Me in the Blank (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader, Modern AU)

Word Count: 1300(ish)

Warnings: Some language, sexual references but nothing graphic or explicit just suggestive, floof.

- Llewyn isn’t sure what a BuzzFeed is, and to be honest, he’s not even sure what the hell a thirst tweet is. 

- You’re always teasing him that, if the world suddenly loses all technology tomorrow and the internet and social media disappear, he’ll be the only one who will still be able to function, and he’ll probably be a lot happier.

- You’re not wrong.

- He hates social media. Doesn’t understand what the point is really, why so many people are obsessed with it. Yeah, he technically has official accounts on all the major platforms, mainly because you insisted and set them up. They’re just placeholders and he never uses them.

- The only reason he’s even here to do this media gig is because you asked, all wide puppy-dog eyes and gnawed-on bottom lip, and he knows that you know he can’t say no to that.

- Not that he ever really wants to say no to you, but sometimes...

- Now he’s almost one hundred percent certain he regrets it.

- You’ve tried explaining the concept to him, probably like twenty-some times, and you’re trying again now, but as you lead him into the studio it pretty much goes in one ear and out the other.

- People don’t know you’re together, so he’s annoyed by that on top of everything else, because he can’t call you any of the usual pet names that roll off his tongue like melted butter.

- No angel. No baby. No sweetheart. It fucking sucks.

- "It’s not a serious thing, Llewyn. Just...fake it till you make it. Make jokes about it, it’ll be fine,” you tell him.

- You sit side by side at a little table, a couple feet apart, and a production assistant put a little metal bucket in front of each of you.

- Llewyn gives you a weird look. You just shake your head and smile this cute little smile that he does his level best to ignore because, well, you’re in public and nobody knows.

- Then the tweets come out of the buckets.

- Things I requite in a man: five nine, pisces, grammy nominated, llewyn davis. That’s all i ever need.

- Why is Llewyn Davis so attractive? He’s like 30 years older than me and I’m a lesbian but he still gets me hot and bothered.

- I cannot believe Llewyn Davis invented being sexy.

- Llewyn Davis got thicc lips and thicc hips

- I want Llewyn Davis to be my daddy but not in the fatherly kind of way.

- There’s a lot more, but honestly, they all sort of blend together.

- He manages to laugh them off and make some clever comments but he shoots you a look that’s part confusion, part disdain, and really annoyed. You just shrug.

- But then the tweets start coming out of your bucket, and Llewyn’s brain instantly regains its laser-focus.

- First, because everyone calls you by your online handle, which drives the nail further into Llewyn’s coffin because of his inability to actually call you cute names night now.

- Secondly, who do these assholes think they are, talking about his girl like this?

- Hello? Maker? Can we talk about how you put the heavens in AngelEyes’s eyes, because it’s starting to cause some serious problems over here. Kthx.

- I want to lick cherry-flavored jello off AngelEyes fingers, why does life have to be so unfair?

- Sit on my face and suffocate me, AngelEyes.

- AngelEyes’s boobs are a gift from whatever deity you choose to believe in, and if you’re an atheist, well, then more tits for me.

- I’m pretty sure AngelEyes could get all my children out of me, and I’m willing to take that challenge.

- Llewyn’s kind of tuned out, trying not to pay any attention to all the dirty things the world wants to do to you, but his head finally snaps up and his arm does too and his little metal bucket goes crashing to the floor.

- You (and everyone else in the studio) just stare at him.

- “Could I...” he clears his throat, “could I speak to you, for just a minute? Like, out in the hall?”

- “Okay?” you say slowly, but stand up and head towards the door, with him right behind you.

- The door barely has a change to swing shut behind you before Llewyn is on you, frantically pressing his lips to yours in a soul-sucking kiss.

- “Llewyn, what are you doing?” you hiss when you finally break away for air.

- It took quite a few minutes before you absolutely needed that break and you’re fairly certain people are going to come looking for you any second because you have to be taking a lot longer to “talk” than Llewyn implied.

- “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to sit there and pretend all those tweets are okay”

- He’s pressing you against the wall and you can’t help the slightly impish smile that comes to your face. “I have a pretty good idea.”

- Llewyn glares through narrowed eyes. “This isn’t funny, AngelEyes.”

- “I was listening to all the ones people said about you too. Don’t get so worked up, Llewyn, it’s all in good fun.”

- Llewyn snorts.

- “Baby, are you...jealous?” You raise a brow at him.

- “I have half a mind to just take you up against this wall, right now.”

- “You’re jealous.”

- His mouth is suddenly a breath away from yours again, and he murmurs, “I just want people to know that you’re mine. And to know that I’m yours. And to never read a single thirst tweet ever again in my entire life,” before his desperate lips are back on yours.

- This time, he pulls out of the kiss first and you rest your head on his shoulder and try to catch your breath again.

- He’s checking something on his phone - replying to a text from his manager Snap or his sister, maybe, you’re only vaguely aware that he’s actually on his phone at all.

- But then you feel your own phone vibrate in your pocket.

- You pull it out and immediately almost drop it.

- “Llewyn. You...you didn’t.”

- Llewyn looks at you with a completely innocent face. He slides his phone back in his pocket and hooks a thumb towards the door. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Come on, we should probably get back in there before they send a search party.”

- You barely have time to process the notification that Llewyn Davis (@ folksingerwithacatofficial) has made his first tweet! Check it out! and even less time to actually read it before Llewyn disappears through the door and you have to follow.

- But it there was a picture - you didn’t even know Llewyn knew how to do that. And if he had an extra minute, he’d be inordinately proud of himself.

- It’s from a friend’s rooftop party a couple weeks ago. You’re behind him with your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, and he has his eyes closed and a happy, content little smile on his face.

- There’s no way anyone’s going to look at it and be like, ‘oh they’re just friends.’ But the caption definitely clears it up.

- Never been happier than I am w/AngelEyes by my side. Aren’t enough words to say how much I love you, baby. Maybe I’ll just write you a song or ten.

- You head back into the studio, about to shove your phone back in your pocket, your face burning hotter than the sun, but it vibrates again and you see the corners of Llewyn lips turn up, even though he’s pointedly not looking at you.

- There’s another tweet.

- Now go get some water y’all and stop talking about my girlfriend’s tits. At least give her ass the credit it deserves too.

- Llewyn pretends not to notice when, five minutes later, everyone’s phones and laptops and tablets start blowing up with notifications and reactions. He just pulls you into his lap and kisses you softly on the cheek.

Everything Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @damerondjarin @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @iflostreturntobudcooper @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @leto-duke @littlebopper96 @reysflyboy @rosemarysbaby13 @spider-starry @veuliee @waatermelon-sugaar @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @yourbucky084

Llewyn Taglist: @santiagogarcia

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[yanderenightmare]

could we get the bnha yanderes with a darling that’s actually really fond of their dark side and revels in the attention

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: anxiety, arson, drugs, guilt, delusions, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, mind control, DUBCON, yandere-themes

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

He had planned to be sweet, similar to his scent of caramel as opposed to what destruction he was capable of. He had planned to be patient, to tolerate whatever screams and cries his darling might have reacted with, but what he was met with wasn’t horror, but… something strangely akin to what he would call gratitude or even excitement or even lovesickness. He thinks she surprised herself more than she surprised him with how easy she folded, but once he got over the shock and not to mention the suspicion her compliant nature beckoned from him, he was only motivated to go harder, to be rougher, to be as intense as he had wished but had held back. She likes the attention, despite it being overwhelming and scary and brutal at times, she still likes it, maybe even because of it. Once he got over the fear of her acceptance crushing under the full weight of his obsession, he became cocky about it. She’s his little freak and he has the confidence and the reassurance to tease her for it now, thoroughly amused with how her eyes cross paths and her brows knit together, drooling and mewling with his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing her neck with her tight little pussy clenching around his shaft as he drives into her. He exploits it, finding such great amusement and entertainment in hearing her pray for him to go harder and faster, even as she begins to cry, limbs shaking as she continues to beg for him, eyes like opium, wide and void with pooling darkness.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

Dabi had expectations. Expecting his little darling to not fully be at peace with his self-proclaimed ownership of her, he had decided to not pay her objections any mind. He decided that the hard way was the best way from the very start. But… his darling didn’t meet him with the type of reluctance he had expected. Sure, she was crying, but when he reached out his hand she didn’t bite like the sort of animal he’d expected, but rather, reached out ever so timidly and eyes so wide and glossy and sparkly and in search for some comfort. He couldn’t be harsh when she was being so sweet, he couldn’t be anything but appreciative when she curled up on his lap like such a soft little thing, hands gripping onto his shirt, sobs that seemed too tame for him to scold her, besides… it felt… nice. It felt nice to be the source of comfort as opposed to the factor of discomfort. It felt like absolution. He used to think he’d find clinginess annoying, but his little darling is clingy in all the right ways. Latching onto him when she’s crying, after a bad dream, all throughout the night, even when he’s the source to her pain, when he makes her jump up and down on his cock, her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers intertwining in his raven locks, legs around his torso, running to hug and welcome him home, kissing him, telling him how she missed him, how much she loves him, how much she needs him.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

He’s so confused. He kidnapped her. Kidnapped her. Took her, abducted her, stole her, forced her away from a life with little regard to her feelings on the whole ordeal, subjugated her to a tiny room with more flying specs of dust than light allowed to shine through the windows. It’s not even like he’s a handsome kidnapper either. Is she insane? Why is she looking at him like that? Why isn’t she afraid, why isn’t she swatting his hands away when he reaches to touch her? Why is she touching him? How can she touch his wrinkles, his scars, his cracking breaking skin? How can she touch his hands, his scarred deadly bloodied hands? And what is that look on her face? If he didn’t know any better he’d call it fascination, curiosity perhaps… adoration? No. No, no, no, no way. No way she’s simply just… accepting… enjoying… just as simple as that. To be honest, he’s feeling slightly freaked out, alarmed, concerned. This isn’t natural. This isn’t healthy. She should at least cry, if only just a little bit. But no. No, her fingers playing curiously with his hair when he’s playing videogames. At least she doesn’t talk to him like they’re chummy old pals, then he’d really feel the thin hairs at the back of his neck rise. But, when he touches her milky skin with his sandpaper-fingertips she doesn’t squirm, and when he pushes those same fingers knuckle deep inside her she doesn’t tell him to stop. He finds himself quickly enjoying testing the boundaries of his little darling, boundaries he’s yet to have found proof of.

SHINSO HITOSHI

He was expecting for there to be some debate surrounding his ownership of her, he was preparing to teach his little pet a thing or two about who was boss early on, but… she seemed to slip right into her role so naturally. Instead of him teasing her, she’s teasing him, mocking him, making him feel as though he has no control even as he stares into those wide milky orbs who no longer have the ability of mobility, yet still has the power to inch her lips into that eerie playful catlike grin, as though she’s excited, as though spiked with untamed thrill. She’ll talk to him as though there’s no danger, as though he won’t have her mind in his clutches by the end of it, almost as if she’s counting on it, waiting for it, coaxing him with words of her own. They’ll play like cat and mouse, one always either tempting or chasing the other. She’ll even laugh, eyes bright and vivid and spiked and twirling as she lets him catch her time and time again, in a way that makes him believe he’s the one that’s been captured. He’s surprised, to say the least, surprised because his little darling is in fact a little devil, a little baby-faced angel-eyed demon, who enjoys how the darkness feels against her skin, who loves how his inky-fingers feel when tampering with her mind, and has darkness of her own to drown him with too.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

He was preparing for a wild beast, but was happy to find his little darling settling in as though she understood that in the comfort of his house is where she belonged. Calling it a kidnapping became weird and sounded foreign when referring to their arrangement, especially when he came home to his darling in her apron, cooking, cleaning or sleeping so soundly on his couch you’d think she’d done so her whole life. She doesn’t flinch when he touches her, she rather leans in to greet the touch, her eyes heavy-lidded and joined with his gaze. And when he comes home, some days all broken and bruised and bloodied and smoke-ridden, his feathers ragged and plucked, she’ll fuss. Fuss and pamper and coo and take such good care of him, softly and sweetly patching him up, messaging wings, give his torn lip a kiss, stroke a careful hand through his locks. She’ll be so perfect, like an angel, a living breathing real-life angel. Or a guardian, something he’s always wanting. Someone to make him feel safe and loved and protected, despite him being the hero and his darling being the victim to his villainy.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Here he was thinking she couldn’t possibly be any more of an adorable little darling than what she already was. He’s not used to being wrong about his calculations, he’s not used to liking finding faults in his calculations, but he has to admit he was pleasantly surprised with how his darling accepted his feelings easier than what he had expected. He had assumed it to be a lengthy and gradual and careful process, he was prepared to take his time, be patient, be supportive, but… his darling portrayed little of what anxiety symptoms he had imagined: panic-attacks, quaking, crying, screaming. She seemed more honored than anything. Amazed to have caught the eye of the Midoriya Izuku, the number 1. Hero of not just Japan, but arguably the whole world. She felt proud, bashful to be getting the attention, but thriving in it despite herself believing it was misplaced. Wanting to return Izuku’s worship, cherish, awe with appreciation of her own at every given turn. She would still yelp when he picked her up to carry her about, but who wouldn’t when his arms are the sizes of pillars. Though, the sound of surprise would always be followed by the sound of laughter, school-girl giggles that felt like the fluttering of butterflies against his chest. Also, when she slept on top of him. With one of his hands placed on the dome of her ass and the other holding a book up for him to read, the small feel of her drumming pitter patter heartbeats against his ribcage, so cute and comfortable and safe.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL 

He was expecting a fight, he was expecting annoying migraine-evoking screams, he was expecting thrashing, causing waves to fall onto the bathroom tiles when she was in the bathtub. He was expecting the worst, because that’s what good business men do: expect the worst, prepare for the worst, and find refuge in the fact that it was far from what hell they had imagined. But… it’s rare to be met with the exact opposition of what you had predicted, which was what had happened. There was no war, there was no fight, there was no riot, there wasn’t even the hint of resistance. There were still small tremors of fear though, yet far less than what he had foreseen. The type of fear you find when bringing home a new pet, more careful hesitant curiosity than actual fear, as though trying to find comfort in your surroundings, as though trying to settle in. He looks like a dangerous man, yet… her eyes aren’t terror-wide but big with anticipation, with a strange form of thrill. And though her actions remained feather-light she was still the first one to reach out, she was still the one to ask to witness the demolition and recreation of his quirk, she was still the one that chose to tie the knot to his tie in the morning. Though he was the one to have found and taken her, she was the pioneer.

TODOROKI SHOTO

Not much can change what Shoto has planned for his darling’s future. Whether she enjoys it or hates it, it will be accepted. What he plans to do with her, what soft-tinted or red-violent passions he plans on bestowing upon her, the fact that she likes it from the start hardly matters when through time she was going to learn to enjoy it anyway. He was always going to lick up her skin with his flames or make her skin whisper upon the threat of being frozen, until she’s a sweat-slicked feverish mess in his lap, and he was always going to take good soft care of her afterwards. But, he must admit, he’s surprised to find that the aftercare is such a sweet pleasure, seemingly rivaling what blissed-out state he can reach when playing with his little darling. He knew he would enjoy it, but… he could never have imagined the motherly touch his darling gifts him with, what tender smiles and heavenly laughs and the way she tangles herself with him, limbs an unruly yet comfortable knot. What more, when she asks to see his quirks, wants him to make frost-flowers on the windows or in the shower on the glass-walls, when she holds his hands as he creates little lanterns of dancing tendrils and wisps, ones she can tickle with her fingertips as they twirl in his palm. The way her eyes light up with that childlike-wonder he never seemed to possess when he was young, makes him feel a different type of warm far from burning.

TIP-JAR