#HOW IS HE NOT ONE OF THE MORE POPULAR BOYS

[celestie0]

childhood friends to lovers with gojo.

warnings/tags. fluff & angst, sad ending

you two were five when he kisses ur cheek on the playground underneath the slide n you both thought that counted as a first kiss. u two were attached by the hip all throughout elementary school, i mean srs, your parents would even have joint parent teacher conferences bc there was just nothing the two of you wouldn't do together.

and then middle school came around, you joined the marching band n he joined the football team. he starts acting different around you, and it hurts. bc you two were best friends. you were always supposed to be best friends. he starts hanging out w the popular kids, and you find yourself walking home alone. summer before high school, he wants to hang out again, but you tell him you deserve better than that. and you two drift apart.

it's hard starting high school without him, watching him from afar during lunch in the cafeteria. he's with his table of phonies, acting like someone he's not, and you know because you've always known him. better than anyone else. you really wanna join the cheer team, since you've done gymnastics for a long time, but you've always been too afraid to tryout for the team. this time, you do, and you get in. now all of a sudden he wants to talk to you again, now that you're popular in high school and have earned a place on the field during his games. fuck that, you say to him, you threw away what we had just because i wasn't good enough for you to have by your side. you start dating his teammate, you two are nominated for prom queen & king, and he has to watch as you kiss someone else on stage when you win. someone that should've been him. he starts dating the cheer captain, just to show it off when he comes running to her after a winning game, kissing her right in front of you but he's not looking at her, he's looking at you. to make sure you're watching. and you do the same thing to him. and the whole time you two are wondering what are we doing to one another?

summer after high school, he shows up to your doorstep one day on his skateboard. with a box full of all the letters you used to send him as a kid. you still have yours too, somewhere tucked underneath your bed. you spend the whole afternoon laughing with him as you read through them all, laying on the carpet of your living room, and you both feel like kids again. he hovers over you when he kisses you, but you're still mad at him, and to show him how mad you are, you kiss him back. it's no use, you two are going to different colleges, you'll hardly see him, but he swears he's call. he swears he'll fly to see you. he swears he'll never makes the same mistakes again, because he wants you. and only you. you kiss his cheek, and say okay.

and he does. he does everything he promises you. but the distance is too hard, and he was a little too late. you break up with him over a twenty-one character text sent while you're drunk at a house party your second semester at university, and he just doesn't understand. he'll never understand. and he never sees you again.

until you're both thirty-two, standing in line at the grocery store. he taps your shoulder, you turn around, you wonder if it's a stranger who wants a favor, and you realize he's so much more than that. he's the little boy that kissed your cheek underneath the slide when you were five. your first kiss. except it wasn't, was it? his face is long, and his cheeks have lost plush, but he looks so handsome it makes your heart skip a beat. you two are pleasant, exchanging it's been so long! and you look great! but when his eyes catch the twinkle of the wedding ring on your finger, his smile drops ever so slightly, and when he scratches his cheek to hide the sadness, you notice a band on his finger too. and he pays for your groceries, just to be kind. and you thank him for it, just to be kind. and you go your separate ways, never to speak again. but there's a box that still sits somewhere in your closet. and a similar one still sits in his too.

#sorry idk why tf this got sad all of a sudden #this was just supposed to be fluffy #lfmaooo?? #help #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader angst #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen #so heavily inspired by many ts songs w this one loool

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙩2 ♡︎

characters: sub!dragons x nb!dom!reader

warnings: finger in vent again so vent fingering, established relationship, monster anatomy, clothes and undergarment stealing, clothes sniffing, the dragons are being a bit more feral, pillow humping, praise, pleading, thigh riding, guided vent fingering, squirting, nipple stimulation, bullet vibrator usage, mind break, fluff, needy dragon boys hehehehhehe

notes: due to popular demand, here is part 2 of dragons getting fucked dumb(●’◡’●)ﾉ im sorry if it took a while. i was having some health issues(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) part 1 can be read here!! gradient divider from @/benkeibear

word count: 4.9k

ever since you helped out your large lizard lover with his heat, there’s only been one thing on his mind since then. your finger in his vent. the soft coos of your praises, the way you pushed his legs open to fuck him dumber, the way you nudged his hands off of his face so you could see his cute face twist and turn in pleasure as you fuck his hole.

“oh, for fuck’s sake! i need to get them out of my head” the dragon huffs aloud out of a sudden, hunching over his desk at his usual office as he hides the flush of his cheeks behind his hands. already a week has passed since the ending of his heat cycle and yet he was acting like he was still under the influence of his stupid dragon anatomy. he couldn’t even stop thinking about you and your fingers spreading him open while he cried dumbly on the bed, back arching and chasing after your fingers like a whore.

it was after his heat ended and finally able to at least articulate proper sentences that wasn’t about wanting you to wreck him, that the two of you have talked over and decided that perhaps it was time to make your relationship official. how long have the two of you been dancing around each other, making everyone roll their eyes at the way you two flirted with each other like some dumb teenagers? enough to the point people started making bets. enough that a half of the city had become 50 bucks richer and the other half poorer.

despite having already gotten into an established relationship with you, the poor dragon still felt shameful over some of his actions. such as stealing your clothes whenever you come over to his house to stay the night and lying to your face about not knowing where it was. you two were still basically in the baby stages of being an official couple which was why you needed some time to fully move your things into his house and to start living together. it takes time to settle y’know?

so it was definitely weird when some of your clothes started to disappear. the shirt that you usually wear when at the comfort of your or his home. the large, oversized sweater of yours that you have given the nickname of “the ugly one”. and strangely, you even had a hard time finding a certain undergarment amongst the mess of your home and the boxes of things that you packed up, preparing to move. strange. and even more strange, your overgrown lizard lover says he hasn’t seen them in his own home either. you genuinely started to question your own memory.

in the meantime you were busy creating a storm in your home trying to triple check this week about your missing clothes, your boyfriend was having a hard time in his office. no matter how hard he tried to focus on the paperwork stacked in front of his damn face, he just couldn’t.

instead, his mind just kept drifting back to the memory of you helping him during his heat cycle. the praises that constantly fell on his ears as his toes curled, clawed hands scrambling to grasp for something to clutch onto because he was sure that he ascended when your finger fucked the small opening of his vent. and that lewd squelching noises of his slick dripping down from his vent. an oddly sickeningly sweet smelling scent coming from him as if trying to woo you, trails of his juice dripping from his vent down to his fluttering hole to the bed.

he was fucked dumb during those days and by the stars, he wanted it again. he wanted your hand fisting at his cocks, eagerly tugging on them as your finger abuses the squishy spot inside him. he wanted to sob and wail deliriously, bucking his hips, torn between wanting to chase after the pleasure or tearing himself away to save what leftover pride he had, as he begs for mercy. he wanted it. at this rate, if he kept thinking back on that moment, he might as well try to force his body into another heat cycle so soon.

shaking the imagery out of his head, the dragon clears his throat. looking around his office to see if anyone is around — to his luck, no one was — before breathing out a heavy huff. he might as well try to at least do his work during work time.

“maybe that chipmunk’s affinity to skip work is rubbing off on me…”

perhaps even more had rubbed off on him. none which was a good thing.

“i’m sorry… i’m sorry i’m sorry ‘m sorry, [name]…” the dragon whines pathetically, wearing the oversized sweater he stole from you and nothing else. he just couldn’t get that memory out of his head. every time he tried, something small and insignificant would just remind him of it again. unable to keep up with trying to seem all professional, he rushed home straight after work — perhaps even earlier than the hours he gets out of his office — locking himself in his bedroom with a pillow between his thighs, wearing your sweater with your stolen undergarments to his face.

despite having already been fucked shamelessly just ten or so days ago, it still felt wrong to think of you in such a lewd way. in such a defiling way. in a way that it served as a huge disservice to who you really are.

“mmnngh—! [naamee]… m-miss you… missing you so bad…” the dragon whines, completely pent up as his slick continues to drip onto the pillow between his thighs, the outer scales of his vent already puffy and open slightly, weeping his mouthwatering juice. the poor thing was pathetic, trying to recreate the way you wrecked him so good. fingers messily rubbing and flicking against his vent opening as a means to mimic the way you ate him out the other day. spreading his slick around, making a stretching motion with his two fingers on the sides of his vent, flicking the small nub on top. it didn’t help. if anything, it only made it worse.

the dragon was trying to help himself out, to relieve himself off of his pain of unknowingly edging himself for the past few days. without you by his side to help him out or to hear his pleas. without you by his side to fuck him so good again. palming himself with a pathetic whimper, the dragon thinks about slipping a finger inside his vent the same way you did. but could he do it? probably not. he was just too damn of a coward, and there was the looming possibility of losing control of himself and letting his claws grow.

unable to do it in the end, he settles on merely stroking his cock. hand wrapped tightly around his weeping dick, your stolen undergarments wrapped around one of his cocks as he mewls, bucking his hips into the tight space of his closed fist. it was nowhere near to how it felt when you did it. perhaps at the time, it was his heat pheromones working but it felt good. your hand wrapped around his cock as your other hand fingers his vent opening. your hand felt so much better.

biting down on his lips, he cums into his hand, soiling your stolen undergarments as well in the process just the moment he thought back on the feeling. pouting, the dragon’s tail flicks in annoyance behind him, looking over at the clock hanging on the wall.

12:36. were you awake right now? you did indeed had tendency to stay awake a bit too late on some nights…

knock knock knock!

the soft yet annoyingly persistent knocks on your door slowly rouses you from your sleep, making you roll around in the comfort of your bed in a silent declaration of war against the knocking. acting stubborn, clinging onto the cozy warmth of your bed, you groan as a string of curses falls from your lips as you involuntarily drag yourself out of bed. whoever that was outside your door in this ungodly hour shall face your wrath like sun wukong did with buddha.

pitter pattering to the door — where the knocking has become more persistent — you swing the door open, ready to curse the person and their 109 bloodlines before shutting up. standing in front of you with his tail and horns out in the open, slitted eyes glowing slightly, was your dragon lover. strange. he never visits this late.

“dear? wha— what happened? is everything alright? it’s—“ you take a moment to steal a glance towards the clock hanging on the living room wall before turning to face him again, “—nearly 2am” you finish, concern growing more and more when his tail comes to curl around his own ankle. a clear sign that he was feeling anxious or uncomfortable.

“can i… come in? i wanted to see you” the dragon asks in a meek voice, a strange habit that you found concerning and heartbreaking to see since your lover was usually one who is calm and collected at all times. nodding, you usher him inside before locking the door behind you.

quietly, you follow him as your lover makes a straight beeline into your bedroom, making himself comfortable on the edge of your bed as a pink flush starts to grow on his cute cheeks. you were about to ask him if he wanted something to eat or drink but perhaps not as the needy dragon was now staring at you as his tail swishes behind him, impatient. tails expressed emotions after all.

yawning, you move to sit beside him on the bed, to which you accept his hug when you finally settle down. his arms cones to wrap around your middle, tail now calming down from the earlier fussy movement as it curls around your calf possessively. humming, you run a hand through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

the dragon loved it whenever you read him like he was an open book. to others, he was a stone wall, one that was made out of ancient scribbles and unintelligible runes. a warrior forged by blood and scent of death, one who was born and made by the cries of war and blind devotion from others. but to you, he was just a fellow being. one who was lonely from the many centuries he had spent, all by himself. struggling with the many different cultures of life, trying his best to learn and understand the human customs so he could properly court you in human traditions.

you two stay like that for some time. nestled against one another, just basking in the comfort of the peaceful life that you two found between yourselves.

“[name]…” the dragon whimpers from the crook of your neck, soft rumbling purrs mixing with his whining of your name. it was enough to snap you out of your sleepy state, making you hum as you acknowledge his call. he got your attention now. but the main point of hesitancy was — could he do it? could he be so shameful as to not only disturb your night of peace but to also be selfish to want you to pleasure him the same way you did a few days ago?

hearing the familiar noise of his tail hitting the bed constantly in a sense of irritation, you coo his name softly. one hand messing with the long strands of his hair while the other runs through his scalp.

“what’s on your mind now, my pretty?” you ask, taking a look at his face when it comes out of its hiding place in the crook of your neck. he seemed to be conflicted. brows furrowed, slitted eyes glowing slightly in the dark room while his lips tug in a small pout. laughing at the oddly adorable expression, you kiss his brows and pouty lips, making his purrs become louder. such a needy dragon.

“i’ve… been thinking,” the dragon starts after a while, taking his time to try and articulate his request and to convey his feelings that has been bothering him lately. a lot more than he initially thought they would.

“about how you helped me while i was in heat” he takes a moment, watching your expression closely to see if you caught the gist of what he was trying to say. you did, of course you did, you were a smart human after all. his smart human.

“and i was wondering if you could do it again…?” he finally manages to bring himself to ask, peering up at you through his lashes bashfully. how could you ever say no to such a face? such an ethereal and cute begging face alongside the promise of seeing his expression twist into one of someone who’s just fucked stupid. the cute face of your dragon lover drooling and sobbing fat tears while his heart shaped pupils stare at you in a silent plea for more. that face haunted your mind for too damn long, causing unnecessary moments of dozing off while remembering about the moment you slipped your finger inside, making your already horrible work ethnic drop to below ground level.

“sure. i wouldn’t mind it, pretty” you hum, any ounce of sleep leaving your body as you move to a more comfortable position on the bed. pushing yourself to lean against the headboard of the bed, you watch as your draconic lover takes his place on your lap. clawed hands coming to fist at the material of your pajama shirt, whining your name as he pushes himself flush against your chest. you could feel the mounds of his chest pressing against your own, his tail swishing behind him as he arches his back. your lips is pulled against his own, a small peck easily turning into a heated, messy make out. his forked tongue shyly licking at your lips, purring contently as his long tongue slithers inside you, exploring every nook and cranny needily.

you could feel his hips humping your thigh, the wetness of his vent weeping his precum already starting to stain his pajama pants and seeping into your own. you could tell he was too aroused, dumbly chasing after any ounce of pleasure there could be. you could feel the way your mixed saliva dripped down from your sloppy open mouthed kisses, his hands guiding yours to rest on his hips. a position you used to your advantage as your hands traveled downwards to knead his ass, squeezing the soft fat as he whimpers into the kiss.

the poor thing was so pent up, humping your thighs didn’t felt enough. it wasn’t enough to get him to that familiar feeling of high, that exhilarating feeling of feeling your fingers stretch his vent open while he could only keen like a whore.

“want it… want it so bad…” he mumbles into the kiss, guiding your hands to the hem of his pajama pants, tugging on them fervently to get the clothes off. you simply chuckle, finding his desperation adorable in more ways than one before finally relenting and slipping off his pants before he let out an annoyed hiss, pulling away from the sloppy make out session to tear off his underwear with his claws.

“darling! why would you rip it off?” you ask, amused by his eagerness but also slightly concerned for the way he just easily ripped off his clothes like that. you have never seen him get even the tiniest bit ticked off after all, so this was a new side of him that you were seeing.

“wanted more” he only huffs, demanding more kisses as he returns to shove his forked tongue down your throat. the length of his tongue got you groaning and panting, finding it harder to breathe as he becomes more needy with every kiss, with every sloppy slurp of your tongue against his own.

“mmnhp—! [nameee]♡︎” he let out a yelp, pulling away from the kiss to whine out your name as he felt your fingers knead his vent open. the poor dragon whined, huffing and puffing about how you were being so mean to him as he humps your thigh, the tips of his cocks slowly emerging from the scaled vent, both of his cocks weeping pre all over your clothes as his vent drips with his own arousal.

shifting him around, you let him lean his back onto your chest, hands hooking under his legs to spread them open. your dragon let out a little hiss, talking about how you weren’t paying attention to him. you simply shush his hissy fit with a chuckle, placing a kiss on his forehead. taking his hand, you tell him to withdraw his claws. an action he does with confusion before he let out a whimper when you guide his hand to his vent.

“b-but… i-i don’t think i can do it. i’m nervous!” he says in a panicked tone, turning his head to stare at you with cute pouty lips and wide eyes.

“yes, you can. i’ll guide you through it all, okay? it’ll feel good, promise darling” you say, peppering his face in kisses to soothe his worries. the dragon preens at that, his purrs getting louder as his tail whacks the mattress of your bed impatiently. once you get the hint that he was ready and he was okay with continuing, you guide his fingers to tease the edges of his vent. fingers rubbing the soft scales, making a spreading motion to ease the muscles there.

just some foreplay and he was already panting, legs twitching to close them. he was so cute.

“that’s it pretty, now keep your legs open for me” you continue to praise him through it all, your other hand leaving his leg to slip underneath his shirt. squeezing his chest, rubbing your thumb over his areola, you pinch at his nipple when it hardens, causing him to jolt in your embrace. whispering more praises of how he was doing so well, how he was your pretty boy, your beloved dragon, your hand guides his own to slip a finger inside his now loose vent.

“u-uunngh!! mmghh… mnngh… t-tight♡︎ too tight! w-won’t fit…♡︎!” he blabbers, throwing his head back on your shoulder as you slowly ease his finger deeper inside his vent. first, second knuckle until his middle finger was slipped deep inside the tight hole of his opening, legs shaking on the bed already like a fawn’s. there were already tears starting to form in his eyes, jaw slack open as heavy breaths fall. not a single thought behind his teary eyes. nothing but the pleasure your guidance and his fingers were bringing him.

“that’s it… that’s my pretty dragon, keep going” you coo out, pleased by how easily he broke under a simple pleasure of fingering his own vent. when he pathetically humps the air — finger still inside — you pull on his nipple to remind him how to do it. squealing at the amount of pleasure coming from both his nipples and vent, the dragon shakes his head, fat globs of tears already falling.

“c-can’t! can’t do it. [n-name] i need you♡︎♡︎ need your fingers so bad♡︎!“ he stutters, legs already shaking, about to close shut. too caught up in his own pleasure that he doesn’t even know what to do to properly pleasure himself even when you were here to guide him through it. clicking your tongue, you guide his hand to pull his finger out, something he couldn’t even perform without your help. he really was a goner with you.

“then, be a sweetheart and play with your tits for me, pretty. wanna see your cute breasts jiggle while i fuck you” you tell him, watching with endearment as he nods dumbly. hands coming up to push his shirt up, fingers twisting and pinching at his own hardened nipples. stuttered breaths fall from his lips when he could feel your thumb swipe at the slit of one of his cocks, jolting in place when you give his weeping cock a few pumps. the few visible veins in them were bulging, ready to pop and for him to squirt yet again if you just stop teasing him around!

but doing the same thing over and over again sounded boring to you. your sweet dragon deserved some treats for being such a good boy after all. he deserved some pampering.

“ah! gimme a second, darling” you snap your fingers, an idea forming in your head. he lets out a soft confused hum at that, hands still holding onto the soft mounds of his chest as he watches you move away to reach over to your bedside nightstand. opening the top drawer, he watches in curiosity as you bring out an odd small device that was connected to a small remote control by quite the lengthy wire. the color all cute pink, the toy small and nearly the size of a small hairclip but pretty girthy in width. were you… thinking on putting that inside him?

“it’s called a bullet vibrator. apparently, it’s supposed to add vibrations to any place of your choosing. and since i found out of your soft spot, i thought maybe we could try it out?” you explain to him, slowly unwrapping the long wire of the toy. it was quite lengthy. perfect to use it for his soft spot.

“only if you’re comfortable with it, dear. i wouldn’t want you to try anything you think you’re not ready for or feel comfortable with” you quickly say, ready to throw the toy away for another time when you feel the grip of his tail around your ankle. the soft smooth scales creating a soft, bristling sensation on your bare skin. if he could remember carefully, the most he took in his vent were two fingers. but it proved that his vent could be quite stretchy and take something more if given enough foreplay and gentle ministrations.

“i… i don’t think i would mind it. it sounds kind of fun, actually” he says after a moment of thinking on the matter, accepting the fact that yes, he can take it. he wanted to try these new feelings and challenges with you. everything would be right when with you.

“i would love to try this new toy” he finally comes to a conclusion, turning his head so he could place kisses on your neck and cheeks, purring in happiness when he could hear you chuckling. you should laugh more. the dragon loved the sound of your laughter — like soft bells chiming in the morning.

patting his thigh to tell him to open up his legs further, it was now your turn to plant kisses on his neck. you couldn’t exactly bite his shoulders as he still had his pajama shirt on, but you can take care of it tomorrow morning. so, you settle on peppering kisses on his neck, the faint scales that were around his artery, giving it a light suckle to which you got a breathy moan for. all the while you allow his vent to get used to the feeling of the toy, the material of it and its size, simply rubbing it over the soft outer scales.

“gonna push it in, okay pretty?” you whisper in his ear, to which he whimpered and nodded, one of his hands leaving his chest to intertwine his hand with yours. so cute. you can only hope he won’t crush your hand accidentally.

ever so softly, whispering praises to how good he was taking the toy into the shell of his ear, you take in the delicious noises he makes with a great amount of pride. the great and only dragon who could wipe out an entire nation off of the face of the earth, choosing you as his mate and bonding with you. having his faith in you that you would take good care of him and his pleasures. it was a heavy emotion and one that comes with responsibility to a certain degree and you would always be sure to handle the heart of his that he willingly gave you, with tenderness of a first snow.

“aaah mmggh—! uungh♡︎ it’s in! i-it’s aaaanhg♡︎♡︎ hummg♥︎ inside... it’s insiiiecckk—♡︎♥︎!!” your dragon squeals, hips thrusting back and forth into the air as he feels the soft round edge of the toy pressed against the soft spongy spot inside his vent. it felt foreign to have something other than your hand touch him there, perhaps even disrespectful since it was supposed to be the only soft spot that only you must have the privilege to know and touch! but for the sake of this new level of pleasure that you promised, he swallowed his hissy fits, instead replacing them with a whiny soft moan.

“i know, pretty. i know. deep breaths for me, pretty” you murmur, giving soft squeezes to his hand that was tightly holding your own. his tail starting to wrap around your ankle and up your calf further with the fluffy haired end wagging in the air playfully around your knees. you let him get used to the feeling of the toy first. gently rubbing it back and forth on his spongy spot, hearing the way his breathing picks up pace as he throws his head onto your shoulder.

“gonna turn it on now, pretty” you warn him, keeping a close eye on the way his expression shifts. if he shows the slightest bit of pain, uncomfortable feelings or signs of discomfort, you were going to ditch the idea. a moment of pleasure is not worth loosing your comfort over, after all. thankfully, he was reacting well to the new intrusion. only positive notes of his pleasured noises and star crossed eyes. you say it to him again, this time just a bit louder with a squeeze to his hand in case he was starting to lose himself. that seemed to snap him out of his trance. just enough to nod his head to you.

“o-okay… okayhhh i understaaaNGGHH!! [n-name]♥︎♥︎[namenamenamenam]—♥︎♥︎ h-haaangh mmhg s-shoo much♡︎ f-feelsh too much♡︎♥︎!!” just a single switch to the lowest level of the vibrator and he was already shrieking, sobbing and thrashing about on the bed. legs shutting around your hand instinctively, salty globs of tears falling as he goes slack jawed. his entire body shakes as he squirts into his stomach, but this time, he squirted from both of his cocks at the same time. the pretty pink tips weakly letting out a few more drops before he was fully hard on both cocks again.

all the while, you watched with an ever growing jubilation as your lover is reduced to this mess on your lap. legs shaking like a newborn fawn’s, cheeks and pointy ears a lovely shade of red as his jaw hangs slack open. every now and then, he would go quiet, arch his back off of you before a loud shriek would follow as the vibrator hits just right. you could see hearts in his eyes, completely docile as his pupils grow wide, so much so you could barely see the glow of his eye color.

so pathetically cute as he mewls your name in a slurred gibberish, repeating it over and over like a broken record. a broken recording that only had one word and is stuck in an eternal loop to say that recording. the most prettiest one. one that you wanted to be selfish and hear all day, everyday.

“u-uuuugckk! aaaanhg gyanh!! mrrrph— luv you♡︎ luvyouluvyouluvyous’much♥︎! luv yoouugh [n-naamee], luv you sho muchhh♡︎♡︎ f-fuUUNGK—♥︎♥︎” he trashes about on the bed, constant declaration of love falling from his lips, kicking his legs at the blanket as he sobs deliriously until he squirts yet again. his own cum splattering over to his chest, soiling his shirt and wetting his still hard pink nipples. you give one of them a pinch, delighted as he mewls in a hoarse voice. pinching and tugging on the cute nub, rubbing the still vibrating toy around his spongy spot, you watch in sheer adoration and obsession as he shoots blanks.

turning off the toy, you coax his legs open so you could move your hand and slip the toy out of his vent. when the girth of the toy slowly slips out of his abused now puffy vent, your dragon lets out a sob as his hips jolt violently. you could see his juices dripping out of his fluttering vent, wanting to finger it back inside him but knowing that it would push him way too far over his limits.

“shh shh, there there, pretty. i got you. you did so amazing” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle to pull him flush against yourself. wiping away his tears and drool, you places butterfly kisses over his face as you ground him back to his mind. he was far too gone and he hated having baths when he was way too lost in his subspace. if he isn’t responsive enough when bathing together, he will throw yet another hissy fit.

“mmmgh… tired…” you could hear him croak out after a long time of rocking him in your arms. he was slowly coming back which meant it was time for a bath. but until he fully regains his mind, it was better to cuddle him close as his tail has a mind of its own and has yet to let go of your ankle. at all.

smooch! maybe another kiss to his pink cheeks would help him ground himself faster.

#nobu.writes #sub genshin impact #sub!genshin impact #sub!genshin #sub genshin #sub zhongli #sub!zhongli #sub neuvillette #sub!neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #dan heng x reader #dan feng x reader #dan heng smut #sub wuthering waves #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #sub honkai star rail #sub hsr #sub dan heng #sub!dan heng #dom reader #gender neutral reader #sub character

[ashyllum]

𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 (#𝟏)

(Gn! Reader)

Aventurine | Jing Yuan and Blade | Dan Feng | Veritas Ratio | Boothill

CW: bullying duh, mild(?) exhibitionism, a bit of a power play, reader is sort of a wimp, tiny dub-con, high school au

Aventurine was one of the cool boys in school, rich, popular, and damn attractive, but one of the sweeter one at that or that's what you thought, as your and his mom introduced you two, as new neighbors. You, one of the poor kids, the one labeled as a charity case.

God, the way he glared at you, like he wanted to kill you was enough to send you into a panic attack, as you immediately excused yourself. The next time you went out of your house, he cornered you, dragging you in on the building's rooftop, pinning you against the railings, half your back hanging in the air, threatening to cut your tongue off if you dared utter a word to this to anyone in school.

Since that day, your high school has been a living hell, as he made his goal to instill fear in you, after all he can't have you, spilling his secret out, the illusion of his power ruining.

You weren't dumb, it was all too obvious to see his mightier-than-thou persona, was a facade to fit in. Yet, you being the little wimp you are, you put up with his bullying, it only started as few teases, and remarks, which you didn't mind much.

After all, you were used to such treatment by his friends already but, this was also a surprise for them too, since you were the first one the Aventurine ever picked on.

All was just fine, till he started invading your safe space, your home after school, because, luck could never be on your side, as your mothers became besties, bonding over being single parents bonding of two teenagers. So you sat every weekend during dinner, in front of Aventurine, as he put on his good-boy act, and you had to witness, your damn mother coddling your bully, all too oblivious.

Holy mother Gaiathra, how tempted you were to tell your mom about all the bullying, but seeing how much she enjoyed the company of her new friend new friend, your bully's mom, you decided to suck it up, for the sake of her happiness.

But soon his actions started getting more and more invasive, as he started shoving you around the hallways, forcing you to sit beside him during lectures, throwing paper balls at you when you refused, and so on. But none compare to the times when he forced you to not attend your classes, dragging you to a random hide outs, making you sit beside him, as he hung out with his friends, bunking classes, as they sat somewhere playing poker or other stupid games.

And don't you dare utter a word when he's playing, 'cause then the hand that's been resting on your shoulder this whole time, will find it's way under your shirt, pinching your cute little nipples?

The first time this happened, was the first time you physically tried to fight back, only to get laughed at by his friend, as they coaxed you into accepting it, after all, it's Aventurine, everyone's dream boy, giving a loser like you his attention, 'you better learn to appreciate it'.

So you did, you learned to just stay there and take it, as his punishment soon turned into a normal occurrence, sometimes making you sit on his lap, as he played, absentmindedly playing with your chest, as you squealed and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, trying to save face, which surprisingly none of his friends found odd, sometimes the one closest to him taking the lead and making you join their little hangout, cause they "like seeing Aventurine happy".

And the worst of it all were, your friends, who teased and shipped you together. How sweet of them to ship you with your damn bully, who invades your personal space, and makes you feel so gushy-mushy inside.

This isn't a romance novel after all!

No, no he's not getting softer to you, giving you random trinkets, like some cute stationary or a toy he won in the arcade. And your heartbeat definitely didn't start rising up whenever you were sitting beside him in class, as he laid a hand on your thigh, before dozing to sleep.

You're just - just going crazy! That's it, crazy enough to let (help) him sneak into your room at night and let him hold you as you both drift to sleep, as he apologized for being mean to you, his hand under your shirt, your arm around his waist, only to wake up alone the next day.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing! When you let him in through because you saw him, crying, and drunk, on the same rooftop, he once threatened to throw you off.

But, you couldn't help it, Aventurine, no Kakavasha, as he made you call him, was just a lonely boy, who wanted fame and power, amongst others, just a boy insecure of not having the same status as his peers, and your heart softens at the fact, after all, you too were once insecure as a child, well not as crazy as Aventurine, going as far as using a different, fancier name in school, or doing reckless stuff to fit in, but everyone has their own story to tell, right?

Perhaps, you could be his friend, he's sweet enough when not in front of others and maybe you are fine with his little groping, right? His friends do call you his lucky charm. Just friends, sure.

Just two friends who sneak in kisses between classes in private, just two friends who found each other under each other sheets in the dead of night, just two friends who hung out randomly in cute little places like cafes, or arcades, but only the ones far away from school, as he still gave you the same treatment in school.

All until one usual day in the hallway, as you were busy stuffing your lockers, and one of his 'friends', a rando, who sometimes joins in, who you didn't know much about, except the fact that he's loaded decided you were the perfect punching bag, to release his anger on.

He pushed you against a wall, his fist up, as you cowered, trying to cover your face, but the punch never came, only a tiny cracking noise, and gasps from the students around you.

Slowly, you removed your arms that were blocking your vision, only to see the boy lying on the ground nose bloodied, and Aventurine glaring at him.

Before you could even say anything Aventurine grabbed your arms and dragged you into an empty classroom, pulling you in a big hug, apologizing profusely.

Thud* Thud* Thud*

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, as you nuzzled in his embrace.

"This would never happen again, I make sure of it," he promised, looking into your eyes with genuine care and sorrow. The same boy who was so desperate for others' approval, just broke someone's nose in front of so many people, to save a pathetic loser like you.

Your brain freezed at the thought, you didn't even think what you were doing and immediately got on your tip toes, grabbed his collar and smashed your lips together, you saw his eyes widen for a second, and then his gaze softened, as he grabbed your waist pulling you in, and closed his eyes.

After few seconds you both pulled away, and your eyes meet again, except both of your visions were blurry, due to the tears flooding in.

Maybe, you didn't want to be friends anymore, but you didn't get much chance to ponder on it, as in only few for the whole school now, you were already labeled his, something he took pride in (you too).

So as the night fell, you two found him in your bed again, nuzzling into you in his sleep, except this time you woke up next to his pretty face and got peppered with kisses first thing in the morning.

(After that you both got teased a lot by your mothers)

imma post some yan! Aven soon, this was too sweet for me, but i can't see this boy being too mean, unlike some others (everyone else) on the roster

#honkai star rail #aventurine #honkai star rail x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x #aventurine x you #bully x reader #bully x victim

[cy-cyborg]

Dealing with Healing and Disability in fantasy: Writing Disability

[ID: An image of the main character from Eragon, a white teenage boy with blond hair in silver armour as he sits, with his hand outstretched. On his hand is a glowing blue mark. He is visibly straining as he attempts to heal a large creature in front of him. /End ID]

I'm a massive fan of the fantasy genre, which is why it's so incredibly frustrating when I see so much resistance to adding disability representation to fantasy works. People's go-to reason for leaving us out is usually something to the effect of "But my setting has magic so disability wouldn't exist, it can just be healed!" so let's talk about magic, specifically healing magic, in these settings, and how you can use it without erasing disability from your story.

Ok, let's start with why you would even want to avoid erasing disability from a setting in the first place. I talked about this in a lot more detail in my post on The Miracle Cure. this line of thinking is another version of this trope, but applied to a whole setting (or at least, to the majority of people in the setting) instead of an individual, so it's going to run into the same issues I discussed there. To summarise the points that are relevant to this particular version of the trope though:

Not every disabled person wants or needs a cure - many of us see our disability as a part of our identity. Do difficulties come with being disabled? absolutely! It's literally part of the definition, but for some people in the disabled community, if you took our disabilities away, we would be entirely different people. While it is far from universal, there is a significant number of us who, if given a magical cure with no strings attached, would not take it. Saying no one in your setting would be disabled because these healing spells exists ignores this part of the community.

It messes with the stakes of your story - Just like how resurrecting characters or showing that this is something that is indeed possible in the setting can leave your audience feeling cheated or like they don't have to worry about a character *actually* ever dying. healing a character's disability, or establishing that disability doesn't exist in your setting because "magic" runs into the same problem. It will leave your readers or viewers feeling like they don't have to worry about your characters getting seriously hurt because it will only be temporary, which means your hero's actions carry significantly less risk, which in turn, lowers the stakes and tension if not handled very, very carefully.

It's an over-used trope - quite plainly and simply, this trope shows up a lot in the fantasy genre, to the point where I'd say it's just overused and kind of boring.

So with the "why should you avoid it" covered, let's look at how you can actually handle the topic.

Limited Access and Expensive Costs

One of the most common ways to deal with healing and disability in a fantasy setting, is to make the healing magic available, but inaccessible to most of the population. The most popular way to do that is by making the services of a magical healer capable of curing a disability really expensive to the point that most people just can't afford it. If this is the approach you're going to use, you also typically have to make that type of magic quite rare. To use D&D terms, if every first level sorcerer, bard, cleric and druid can heal a spinal injury, it's going to result in a lot of people who are able to undercut those massive prices and the expense will drop as demand goes down. If that last sentence didn't give you a hint, this is really popular method in stories that are critiquing capitalistic mindsets and ideologies, and is most commonly used by authors from the USA and other countries with a similar medical system, since it mirrors a lot of the difficulties faced by disabled Americans. If done right, this approach can be very effective, but it does need to be thought through more carefully than I think people tend to do. Mainly because a lot of fantasy stories end with the main character becoming rich and/or powerful, and so these prohibitively expensive cure become attainable by the story's end, which a lot of authors and writer's just never address. Of course, another approach is to make the availability of the magic itself the barrier. Maybe there just aren't that many people around who know the magic required for that kind of healing, so even without a prohibitive price tag, it's just not something that's an option for most people. If we're looking at a D&D-type setting, maybe you need to be an exceptionally high level to cast the more powerful healing spell, or maybe the spell requires some rare or lost material component. I'd personally advise people to be careful using this approach, since it often leads to stories centred around finding a miracle cure, which then just falls back into that trope more often than not.

Just outright state that some characters don't want/need it

Another, admittedly more direct approach, is to make it that these "cures" exist and are easily attainable, but to just make it that your character or others they encounter don't want or need it. This approach works best for characters who are born with their disabilities or who already had them for a long time before a cure was made available to them. Even within those groups though, this method works better with some types of characters than others depending on many other traits (personality, cultural beliefs, etc), and isn't really a one-size-fits-all solution, but to be fair, that's kind of the point. Some people will want a cure for their disabilities, others are content with their body's the way they are. There's a few caveats I have with this kind of approach though:

you want to make sure you, as the author, understand why some people in real life don't want a cure, and not just in a "yeah I know these people exist but I don't really get it" kind of way. I'm not saying you have to have a deep, personal understanding or anything, but some degree of understanding is required unless you want to sound like one of those "inspirational" body positivity posts that used to show up on Instagram back in the day.

Be wary when using cultural beliefs as a reasoning. It can work, but when media uses cultural beliefs as a reason for turning down some kind of cure, it's often intending to critique extreme beliefs about medicine, such as the ones seen in some New Age Spirituality groups and particularly intense Christian churches. As a general rule of thumb, it's probably not a good idea to connect these kinds of beliefs to disabled people just being happy in their bodies. Alternatively, you also need to be mindful of the "stuck in time" trope - a trope about indigenous people who are depicted as primitive or, as the name suggests, stuck in an earlier time, for "spurning the ways of the white man" which usually includes medicine or the setting's equivalent magic. I'm not the best person to advise you on how to avoid this specific trope, but my partner (who's Taino) has informed me of how often it shows up in fantasy specifically and we both thought it was worth including a warning at least so creators who are interested in this method know to do some further research.

Give the "cures" long-lasting side effects

Often in the real world, when a "cure" for a disability does exist, it's not a perfect solution and comes with a lot of side effects. For example, if you loose part of your arm in an accident, but you're able to get to a hospital quickly with said severed arm, it can sometimes be reattached, but doing so comes at a cost. Most people I know who had this done had a lot of issues with nerve damage, reduced strength, reduced fine-motor control and often a great deal of pain with no clear source. Two of the people I know who's limbs were saved ended up having them optionally re-amputated only a few years later. Likewise, I know many people who are paraplegics and quadriplegics via spinal injuries, who were able to regain the use of their arms and/or legs. However, the process was not an easy one, and involved years of intense physiotherapy and strength training. For some of them, they need to continue to do this work permanently just to maintain use of the effected limbs, so much so that it impacts their ability to do things like work a full-time job and engage in their hobbies regularly, and even then, none of them will be able bodied again. Even with all that work, they all still experience reduced strength and reduced control of the limbs. depending on the type, place and severity of the injury, some people are able to get back to "almost able bodied" again - such was the case for my childhood best friend's dad, but they often still have to deal with chronic pain from the injury or chronic fatigue.

Even though we are talking about magic in a fantasy setting, we can still look to real-life examples of "cures" to get ideas. Perhaps the magic used has a similar side effect. Yes, your paraplegic character can be "cured" enough to walk again, but the magic maintaining the spell needs a power source to keep it going, so it draws on the person's innate energy within their body, using the very energy the body needs to function and do things like move their limbs. They are cured, but constantly exhausted unless they're very careful, and if the spell is especially strong, the body might struggle to move at all, resulting in something that looks and functions similar to the nerve damage folks with spinal injuries sometimes deal with that causes that muscle weakness and motor control issues. Your amputee might be able to have their leg regrown, but it will always be slightly off. The regrown leg is weaker and causes them to walk with a limp, maybe even requiring them to use a cane or other mobility aid.

Some characters might decide these trade-offs are worth it, and while this cures their initial disability, it leaves them with another. Others might simply decide the initial disability is less trouble than these side effects, and choose to stay as they are.

Consider if these are actually cures

Speaking of looking to the real world for ideas, you might also want to consider whether these cures are doing what the people peddling them are claiming they do. Let's look at the so-called autism cures that spring up every couple of months as an example.

Without getting into the… hotly debated specifics, there are many therapies that are often labelled as "cures" for autism, but in reality, all they are doing is teaching autistic people how to make their autistic traits less noticeable to others. This is called masking, and it's a skill that often comes at great cost to an autistic person's mental health, especially when it's a behaviour that is forced on them. Many of these therapies give the appearance of being a cure, but the disability is still there, as are the needs and difficulties that come with it, they're just hidden away. From an outside perspective though, it often does look like a success, at least in the short-term. Then there are the entirely fake cures with no basis in reality, the things you'll find from your classic snake-oil salesmen. Even in a fantasy setting where real magic exists, these kinds of scams and misleading treatments can still exist. In fact, I think it would make them even more common than they are in the real world, since there's less suspension of disbelief required for people to fall for them. "What do you mean this miracle tonic is a scam? Phil next door can conjure flames in his hand and make the plants grow with a snap of his fingers, why is it so hard to believe this tonic could regrow my missing limb?"

I think the only example of this approach I've seen, at least recently, is from The Owl House. The magic in this world can do incredible things, but it works in very specific and defined ways. Eda's curse (which can be viewed as an allegory for many disabilities and chronic illnesses) is seemingly an exception to this, and as such, nothing is able to cure it. Treat it, yes, but not cure it. Eda's mother doesn't accept this though, and seeks out a cure anyway and ends up falling for a scam who's "treatments" just make things worse.

In your own stories, you can either have these scams just not work, or kind of work, but in ways that are harmful and just not worth it, like worse versions of the examples in the previous point. Alternatively, like Eda, it's entirely reasonable that a character who's been the target of these scams before might just not want to bother anymore. Eda is a really good example of this approach handled in a way that doesn't make her sad and depressed about it either. She's tried her mum's methods, they didn't work, and now she's found her own way of dealing with it that she's happy with. She only gets upset when her boundaries are ignored by Luz and her mother.

Think about how the healing magic is actually working

If you have a magic system that leans more on the "hard magic" side of things, a great way to get around the issue of healing magic erasing disability is to stop and think about how your healing magic actually works.

My favourite way of doing this is to make healing magic work by accelerating the natural processes of your body. Your body will, given enough time (assuming it remains infection-free) close a slash from a sword and mend a broken bone, but it will never regrow it's own limbs. It will never heal damage to it's own spinal cord. It will never undo whatever causes autism or fix it's own irregularities. Not without help. Likewise, healing magic alone won't do any of these things either, it's just accelerating the existing process and usually, by extension making it safer, since a wound staying open for an hour before you get to a healer is much less likely to get infected than one that slowly and naturally heals over a few weeks. In one of my own works, I take this even further by making it that the healing magic is only accelerating cell growth and repair, but the healer has to direct it. In order to actually heal, the healer needs to know the anatomy of what they're fixing to the finest detail. A spell can reconnect a torn muscle to a bone, but if you don't understand the structures that allow that to happen in the first place, you're likely going to make things worse. For this reason, you won't really see people using this kind of magic to, say, regrow limbs, even though it technically is possible. A limb is a complicated thing. The healer needs to be able to perfectly envision all the bones, the cartilage, the tendons and ligaments, the muscles (including the little ones, like those found in your skin that make your hair stand on end and give you goose bumps), the fat and skin tissues, all the nerves, all the blood vessels, all the structures within the bone that create your blood. Everything, and they need to know how it all connects, how it is supposed to move and be able to keep that clearly in their mind simultaneously while casting. Their mental image also has to match with the patient's internal "map" of the body and the lost limb, or they'll continue to experience phantom limb sensation even if the healing is successful. It's technically possible, but the chances they'll mess something up is too high, and so it's just not worth the risk to most people, including my main character.

Put Restrictions on the magic

This is mostly just the same advice as above, but for softer magic systems. put limits and restrictions on your healing magic. These can be innate (so things the magic itself is just incapable of doing) or external (things like laws that put limitations on certain types of magic and spells).

An example of internal restriction can be seen in how some people interpret D&D's higher level healing spells like regenerate (a 7th level spell-something most characters won't have access to for quite some time). The rules as written specify that disabilities like lost limbs can be healed using this spell, but some players take this to mean that if a character was born with the disability in question, say, born without a limb, regenerate would only heal them back to their body's natural state, which for them, is still disabled.

An external restriction would be that your setting has outlawed healing magic, perhaps because healing magic carries a lot of risks for some reason, eithe to the caster or the person being healed, or maybe because the healing magic here works by selectively reviving and altering the function of cells, which makes it a form of necromancy, just on a smaller scale. Of course, you can also use the tried and true, "all magic is outlawed" approach too. In either case, it's something that will prevent some people from being able to access it, despite it being technically possible. Other external restrictions could look like not being illegal, per say, but culturally frowned upon or taboo where your character is from.

But what if I don't want to do any of this?

Well you don't have to. These are just suggestions to get you thinking about how to make a world where healing magic and disability exist, but they aren't the only ways. Just the ones I thought of.

Of course, if you'd still rather make a setting where all disability is cured because magic and you just don't want to think about it any deeper, I can't stop you. I do however, want to ask you to at least consider where you are going to draw the line. Disability, in essence, is what happens when the body stops (or never started) functioning "normally". Sometimes that happens because of an injury, sometimes it's just bad luck, but the boundary between disabled and not disabled is not as solid as I think a lot of people expect it to be, and we as a society have a lot of weird ideas about what is and isn't a disability that just, quite plainly and simply, aren't consistent. You have to remember, a magic system won't pick and choose the way we humans do, it will apply universally, regardless of our societal hang-ups about disability.

What do I mean about this?

Well, consider for a moment, what causes aging? it's the result of our body not being able to repair itself as effectively as it used to. It's the body not being able to perform that function "normally". So in a setting where all disability is cured, there would be no aging. No elderly people. No death from old age. If you erase disability, you also erase natural processes like aging. magic won't pick and choose like that, not if you want it to be consistent.

Ok, ok, maybe that's too much of a stretch, so instead, let's look at our stereotypical buff hero covered in scars because he's a badass warrior. but in a world where you can heal anything, why would anything scar? Even if it did, could another healing spell not correct that too? Scars are part of the body's natural healing process, but if no natural healing occurred, why would a scar form? Scars are also considered disabling in and of themselves too, especially large ones, since they aren't as flexible or durable as normal skin and can even restrict growth and movement.

Even common things like needing glasses are, using this definition of disability at least, a disability. glasses are a socially accepted disability aid used to correct your eyes when they do not function "normally".

Now to be fair, in reality, there are several definitions of disability, most of which include something about the impact of society. For example, in Australia (according to the Disability Royal Commission), we define disability as "An evolving concept that results from the interaction between a person with impairment(s) and attitudinal and environmental barriers that hinder their full and effective participation in society on an equal basis with others." - or in laymen's terms, the interaction between a person's impairment and societal barriers like people not making things accessible or holding misinformed beliefs about your impairment (e.g. people in wheelchairs are weaker than people who walk). Under a definition like this, things like scars and needing glasses aren't necessarily disabilities (most of the time) but that's because of how our modern society sees them. The problem with using a definition like this though to guide what your magic system will get rid of, is that something like a magic system won't differentiate between an "impairment" that has social impacts that and one that doesn't. It will still probably get rid of anything that is technically an example of your body functioning imperfectly, which all three of these things are. The society in your setting might apply these criteria indirectly, but really, why would they? Very few people like the side effects of aging on the body (and most people typically don't want to die), the issues that come with scars or glasses are annoying (speaking as someone with both) and I can see a lot of people getting rid of them when possible too. If they don't then it's just using the "not everyone wants it approach" I mentioned earlier. If there's some law or some kind of external pressure to push people away from fixing these more normalised issues, then it's using the "restrictions" method I mentioned earlier too.

Once again, you can do whatever you like with your fantasy setting, but it's something I think that would be worth thinking about at least.

#Writing disability with Cy Cyborg #Long Post #Disability #Disabled #Disability Representation #Writing Disability #Writing #Writeblr #Authors #Creators #Writing Advice #Disabled Characters #On Writing #Disability in Media #Tropes #Disability Tropes #magic #fantasy #worldbuilding #magic systems

[hellfirenacht]

C'mon, It's Just One Night (Part 1)

Summary: After getting a fake love note in your locker, you ask Eddie to help you mess up some bullies plans. 

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, sfw, fem reader, reader wears a dress at one point, mentions of bullying, actual bullying, two-shot

Master List

Work Count: 3.7k Words

You ain't seen nothing yet....

The thing that always confused you about jocks and popular kids was that they always assumed that everyone else was dumber than them. Girls would come up to you and give you a compliment that was clearly not sincere and when you thanked them just to get them to leave you alone they would giggle and think that you believed them. Guys would ask you on dates as a joke and you’d roll your eyes and try to ignore them, even as they tried desperately for your attention for their own amusement. 

Thankfully, there were certain perks that came with being in the Hellfire Club. Being associated with Eddie “the Freak” Munson meant that as long as you were standing near your friend, you’d mostly be left alone. You’d sit with him at lunch, try and walk with him to class in the hallways, and in general just tried to avoid any jock that looked particularly bored. 

However it had been quiet over the past few weeks, too quiet for your liking. Honestly, you were almost missing some of the backhanded compliments because it at least gave you a chance to blow off some steam outside of Hellfire. Well, something out there heard your wish and that’s how you found yourself watching from the other end of the hallway as two boys shoved a note in your locker, snickering to themselves. 

Well, this should be entertaining at least. 

They didn’t even try and look around to see if anyone was watching them, too caught up in their own scheme to realize the person who’s locker they were messing with was watching them from just a few yards away. 

“-’s gonna be so funny.” laughed one. You didn’t even know their names. There were so many people at this school that how were you expected to keep up with everyone when you didn’t even speak to them?

“Yeah, she’s gonna be embarrassed and we’ll get a free show out of it.” laughed the other one. 

You were right there. How was it that you could be on their radar for this shit and yet still remain completely invisible? 

The two turned around and you pretended to be throwing something away in a nearby trash can quickly, so that they wouldn’t realize that you had been staring at them. 

“There she is, we gotta go!” you heard one say in a voice that you assumed was his idea of whispering as the two scampered off while trying to hold off their laughter. 

You gave them a generous thirty seconds to get away before making your way to your locker and opening it up, grabbing the note and reading it over. It took everything you had not to burst out laughing right there, and you were just going to throw it away when you had an idea. 

Tucking it into your pocket, you smiled and made your way to the drama room for Hellfire as you started making your own plans for what you’d just read. 

“And with the Dwarf’s golden pick rightfully returned to him, I think this is a good stopping point.” Eddie said, finally sitting back in his chair. He’d been really revved up today, jumping around the table and getting in everyone’s faces as he described what was happening. He’d nearly rammed his head into yours at one point and you had barely managed to lean back enough so he didn’t. 

Eddie was always revved up, always ready to put on a show. He wasn’t afraid to be loud or call out the bullshit of what was expected. Eddie would jump on tables, get in people's faces, declare himself King Freak. 

He was perfect. 

...For your plan. Nothing more. You knew he’d be on board when you explained what you wanted to do. He was perfect for... that. 

As the rest of the club filed out, you stayed behind to help clean up the leftover soda cans and break down the board. You were also stalling because you didn’t want any of the other members to witness what you were about to ask of Eddie. 

“Your Scottish accent is getting better and worse at the same time.” you said, handing him one of the minis. “Sometimes you nail it, and sometimes I don’t think you’re even trying to say anything legible.” 

“It’s better than your character's accent! Is your tiefling from New Jersey or trans-atlantic?” Eddie laughed, shoving his notes unceremoniously in a folder. 

“Why do Dwarves need to be Scottish anyway?” you ignored his question, fully aware that your accents were no better. “I think you should mix it up. Make Canadian dwarves or something.”

This is how Hellfire usually ended, with the two of you joking around and talking about the session and making fun of each other while you tried to get hints about what was to come. He never gave anything away. 

You blew out a few candles and Eddie went to readjust the lights. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the note. 

“So, Eddie.” you started, turning to him. “Remember how last month I helped you study for Mrs. O’Donnel’s midterm and you got a solid B?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed and he stopped what he was doing to look at you. Under the multicolored spotlights he looked... you never had the words to describe it. He just looked like Eddie. The Eddie that should be playing guitar on stage or the Eddie that kept your attention so easily and rapturously when he was running his games. You weren’t ready to say that to his face yet, despite the contradiction of what you were about to do. 

“I remember.” he said, walking over to you and crossing his arms. “I take it you aren’t just bringing up a fond memory of us to reminisce about?”

“Not a chance.” you looked into his brown doe eyes. “It’s time for you to pay up.” And with that you handed over the note. 

Eddie took it with a slight tilt of his head and unfolded it, scanning the contents. 

My Dearest, 

I’ve been watching you for weeks now, enraptored by your beauty. I’ve been too shy to talk to you, but now I want the chance to confess to you. I’m in love with you, and have been all year. I don’t care if everyone thinks you’re some weird Satanist freak because I’m into that. Please be my date for homecoming and meet me at the school at 7:30 pm.

-Your secret admirer  

“It’s not really a secret if you’re handing this directly to my face.” Eddie said, looking up from the note. “And you spelled ‘enraptured’ wrong.” 

“I found this in my locker.” you said, ignoring his comments. “Some jocks think they’re being funny and are clearly trying to pull some sort of prank to humiliate me.” 

“Think it’s a Carrie situation?” Eddie asked, looking over the note again before handing it back to you. 

“They don’t have the guts to get any pig's blood.” you shook your head. 

“So what does this have to do with me? You know that Hellfire doesn’t do school dances.” He said. “I thought we were just gonna blow it off, and Corroded Coffin is gonna do a secret show at the Quarry.”

“Eddie, all your shows are secret.”

“Not true, we have recently gained another groupie. There are now a grand total of six drunks that regularly listen to us play.” Eddie pouted. “Six and a half if you count the cat that’s been hanging around the Hideout.” 

“Yeah, okay, remember me when you’re famous.” You said. “Listen, I need your help. I’m coming to you wanting to cash in my favor. I need the Freak to help me out here, Eddie.”

“For what, exactly?” His eyes narrowed, but you stood your ground. 

“If I show up to homecoming, something's gonna happen. The best case scenario is that I show up and they ignore me and laugh while I wait for this fake person to show up. The worst case scenario ends with pigs blood and me learning I have telekinetic powers.” You explained. 

“So why even bother going? I thought we all agreed that Hellfire doesn’t do school events.” 

That was a good point, and you were making a gamble on this. Eddie didn’t do school events, and tried to make it a rule for his club as well. That didn’t go over well when Mike insisted that he was going to take his girlfriend Jane to homecoming, and everyone finally came clean that Lucas was playing both sides of the field and playing basketball AND doing Hellfire. 

You had to admit, Eddie’s face of disappointment and disapproval was pretty funny. You felt bad for the guy though, he avoided anything school related like the plague outside of this club. Eddie had boasted that he’d never gone to prom or homecoming, and had been skipping any pep rally since his second senior year. 

“You agreed that you didn’t go to events. I never agreed to anything.” you said firmly. “I only agreed to show up every Friday and wear the Hellfire shirt.”

“And again I ask, what does this have to do with me?” Eddie pushed. 

“Be my date for homecoming.” you said. “My fake date. I want you to get to me before they have the chance to.”

Eddie froze for a second, a thousand emotions flashing through his eyes at once. You’d seen this look countless times when one of his players had thrown him a curve-ball and he had to scramble to figure out how to make it work for the game. 

“Your fake date.” he said slowly. “So you want me to- what exactly?” 

“I want you to show up and pretend to be the person who wrote this note.” you explained. “I’ll pretend to be thrilled, you get to be seen with a cute girl at a dance, the gossip train gets something to talk about, and the jocks get their plans foiled. Everybody wins.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes at your plan. “Or you could just not show up at all and just come help us set up for the show.” He said. 

“But that’s not fun.” You pointed out. “Besides, if they think we’re together even just for the night then they’ll leave me alone. Probably”

Eddie looked skeptical. 

“Please?” you leaned closer, making your eyes wide as possible. “Eddie, these dicks have been on my ass all semester. I can’t go two weeks without getting asked out as a joke or having some meat head yell about how his “friend thinks I’m cute”. It’s fucking annoying, and ignoring them has done jack and shit.” 

You saw the stone look in his eyes falter and his shoulders ease up. “You’re really serious about this?” he asked. 

“I am.” you confirmed. “You do this for me, and you can have full creative control. Show up in your Hellfire shirt, hell you could show up in your pjs and I’ll pretend to be thrilled that you’re my secret admirer. We’ll make sure that we’re seen, then we can go to the quarry. We don’t even have to stay for fifteen minutes. Just show up for me, Eddie. Please.” 

Eddie took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands. “Fifteen minutes. All I have to do is show up and pretend that I’m your secret admirer and then we leave. Right?”

“Right.” You promised. “That’s all I need.”

Eddie sighed deeply and grabbed his jacket and threw it on. “I am never asking for your help studying again. You drive a hard bargain.” Despite his words he had a grin on his face. 

“I’m going easy on you, if you had gotten an A I’d be demanding that you show up in a full tux with roses.” you teased. “I’m talking about the full cheesy school dance treatment. Corsage, first dance, all of it.”

“Don’t even start, you’d have to get me to completely ace her whole class to get that kind of treatment.” Eddie grabbed your shoulder and started pushing you up the stairs. “I wouldn’t even know where to get a tux.” 

“I think you’re supposed to rent one.” you laughed as the two of you made your way out of the drama room and closed the door. “I, however, will need to actually buy my dress.”

“You’re really gonna get a dress for this? We’re only going for fifteen minutes.” Eddie pointed out. 

“Oh, would you rather me show up looking terrible?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You really wanna show up and fake-confess to me looking plain and like I don’t care?”

“You really want to sell this, huh?” Eddie laughed. 

“It’s the only way I can think of for them to stop.” You said. 

The two of you made your way to the parking lot. Eddie walking you to your car. 

“Remember Eddie, you have full creative control over how you want to do this.” you said, getting in the driver's seat. “I don’t care how you show up, just go loud.”

“Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson would never disappoint.” he said, closing the door for you with a flourish.

You were going to get a dress for this. 

No, you weren’t, you were only going to be there for fifteen minutes at most. 

But your mom would want to take pictures and be thrilled you were even going. After all, you’d avoided it during your first four years of high school. 

And you wanted to. 

That was the real kick in the pants for all this. You wanted to go to homecoming. You wanted to have a night to dress up and look nice and have fun with your friends. Unfortunately, only the freshmen were going to the dance, and as much as you loved Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, you didn’t really think you’d have a lot of fun with some kids a good five years younger than you. Hell, Mike and Lucas had actual dates and Dustin had a long distance girlfriend! 

You’d be the single person in the group and that didn’t exactly put points in your favor for sticking around for the dance. The rest of Hellfire didn’t bother going to these kinds of things, as this town made it clear that school events were for normal people who enjoyed normal things, whatever the fuck that meant. 

As much as you denied ever wanting to go to homecoming or prom, you knew that you wanted to, and you knew who you wanted to go with. 

On the bright side, at least you’d get your secret wish now, even if it was for fifteen minutes. 

Eddie had made it clear since the first time the words “school dance” were uttered in his presence a few years ago that he wasn’t going to even entertain the idea of showing up. Those nights were dedicated to one shots or longer sessions for Hellfire. So for the past few years you had skipped out on any dances in favor of at least telling your beat up journal that you had technically spent prom or homecoming with Eddie Munson. 

You walked into the department store that you knew had a sizable selection of dresses, took one look at the price tags, and walked right back out. It was insane to spend that money on one night of dancing, let alone fifteen minutes. 

Besides, where else would you even wear a dress like that? You laughed at the idea of showing up to Hellfire, with your shirt on over whatever you would have picked. That’d be stupid. 

....

But it’d also be funny. 

You walked back into the department store and ignored the front and center mannequins to hit up the clearance rack instead. Even as you browsed, you were still trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need to buy something for this. Eddie was probably just going to show up in his old faded DIO shirt and some old jeans (maybe the ones that had that hole in the butt that showed his boxers when you stood behind him, if you were lucky). He probably wouldn’t even brush his hair. 

You had a choice to make. How much of an effort did you want to put into your appearance for this? Should you follow Eddie’s approach and just show up as normal, or should you allow yourself an indulgence in the Cinderella fantasy? What did you want, and what did this revenge situation call for?

You wanted to look nice. You wanted to tell your journal that you had a date with Eddie and that you looked good and that those asshole jocks didn’t even recognize you. Wouldn’t it be better that way anyway? No matter what Eddie looked like when he showed up, the point would be made clear; you were off the market (as far as anyone would be able to tell) and Eddie Munson had gotten the girl. No, not the girl; a girl. Being the girl implied that you were someone that Eddie had an interest in. 

Dresses of different lengths and cuts and colors started to blend together as you indulged in the fantasy of matching your dress to whatever Eddie was going to wear. You flipped through the dress rack while you mentally flipped through all the shirts you had seen Eddie wear in the last few weeks. He favored darker colors most times, the main exception being the white Hellfire Club shirt. 

“Dark clothes don’t stain as easily.” he’d explained before. 

You kept flipping through the racks of last seasons’ fashion, trying to find something that you could wear. Halfway through you considered giving up and just showing up in what you would have worn to the quarry if you hadn’t planned this whole thing. 

You need to commit to the bit. You reminded yourself. These jocks are expecting you to look pretty and then try to embarrass you. Don’t half ass it.

Sucking it up, you made your way over to the normal racks. Your mom had given you some cash to buy yourself a nice dress, but you had been hoping to just buy something cheaper and save the rest to buy off of Eddie later. 

You walked out of the store, bag in hand, with a receipt showing a number that made you feel sick. You reminded yourself over and over it was for you, Eddie, and your mom. 

“Are you sure you have the charisma for this?” Gareth asked. “You always roll shit with any charisma roll.”

“Gareth, I don’t know if you know this, but rolling a die and saying that I’m trying to do something is different than actually doing it outside of the game.” you said as the two of you made your way into the Library. You had it on good authority that this was the jocks study hall period, and you wanted to really sell your plan. 

“I still don’t get why I have to be part of this. I’m not even going to homecoming either.” He grumbled. “This whole thing is stupid. You should just come to the show instead.” 

“I can do both.” you waved him off. “All I need you to do is let me talk at you-”

“You do that anyway.”

“Yes, but this time I need you to pretend to be invested.” You explained. “You let me talk about how excited I am for homecoming and to meet my secret admirer and I use my powers of being able to leave school during lunch to bring you McDonald’s tomorrow.” 

Gareth couldn’t argue with that, no teenage boy could resist the sweet temptation of greasy fast food in the middle of the school day. It was more than a fair trade, even if Gareth didn’t see the point in this. You just really wanted to sell your plan. 

“Remember, all you need to do is ask me who I’m going to Homecoming with.” you reminded him. 

The two of you walked over to where the group of basketball players were goofing off and not really studying, and the two who had slid the note into your locker started nudging each other and snickering to themselves. 

“So who are you going to homecoming with?” Gareth asked, his line delivery stiff and unnatural and disinterested. You had to fight with yourself to not roll your eyes at the lackluster performance. 

“I don’t know!” your voice was a little higher pitched at the response, trying to emulate the cheerleaders you’d seen giggling in their groups as they gossiped. You pulled the note that you had been keeping in your pocket. “I got this note asking me to meet them at the dance, so I have no idea!”

You continued to gush to the disinterested Gareth how excited you were to be asked to go, and speculating on who it could be. The entire time, your friend looked like he’d rather be smashing his head against the table than listen to you talk about this, which was honestly more fun for you than the jocks reactions. 

From the table behind you, the normally loud group of boys were attempting to be quiet as they snickered and nudged each other. You wished that Gareth would try and talk a little more so that you could stop talking to eavesdrop on them. 

When the jocks started getting louder again, that’s when you dropped the conversation. They weren’t interested in hearing anymore and so you weren’t either. 

“So what was the point of that?” Gareth muttered, making his way to the exit of the library. 

“I don’t want them to forget about me. If I’m gonna be completely honest, I really just expected them to totally forget they left something in my locker about this.” you adjusted your backpack, following him out. “I’m committed to the bit.”

“Sounds like you’re just asking for trouble.” He shook his head. 

“Maybe a little.” you sighed. “Eddie and I are graduating this year and I don’t want to look back at my time here and think that I just took the bullshit that was given to me. I just want them to get off my ass for the rest of the year.” 

“Do you really think it’ll work?” 

“Only one way to find out.” 

Part 2 It's Gonna Be A Night We'll Never Forget (Coming Soon)

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List: @somethingvicked @ladysilence @leelei1980 @seexyyprincess @rosebudsgarden @ghcstpyre @crocwork-clockodile

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

[taintandviolent]

Like Right Now? ; Peter Maximoff x Reader

summary: Part 2 of this fic! Peter waited as long as he could - which wasn't very long. He wants round 2 and you do too. Like.... right now.

word count: 3.3K words!

w a r n i n g s: shameless smut, smut with a little plot, unprotected sex, couch sex, sex while parent is in the same vicinity dry humping, kissing, neck kissing.

a/n: not beta-read. by popular request... aaaah I'm still as nervous as I was posting the first part of this! anyway, I hope it's good and satisfies the peter craving! as always, sorry for any clunky weirdo writing!!!

full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! /

With a contented sigh, you opened the door to the house you shared with your mother. Even though you were technically an adult now, you had decided to stay with her, helping her around the house. A child of divorce, you’d always been a little overprotective of her, and couldn’t imagine her alone. 

“Did you have a good skate, honey?” Your mother asked, watching from the living room as you hung your skates on the hook by the door. With your thumb, you furiously rubbed off a scuff mark off the shiny surface and nodded. Boy, did you. Best skate you’d ever had. Using your heels to slip your sneakers off, and kicking them towards the rest of the shoes, you laughed. “Yeah, I went real fast tonight and–” 

The phone interrupted your next words, ringing shrilly. You practically stumbled towards it, reaching out for it like a parched man reaches for water. Your insides wound themselves in knots, just knowing that it was Peter on the other end. 

“H-hello?” 

“Hey cutie.” He’d waited. As long as he could without losin’ his ever loving mind. Which, he wondered if he already had, considering how bad he was aching to hear your voice again. Maybe he’d already lost it. 

“Hi,” you hummed, turning away from your mother. You brought your tone lower, hushed. 

“Did you just get home?” 

“Yeah, Peter, I did.” 

“Dang, slow poke. I’ve been home for a while.” 

“Okay, well,” you laughed. “That’s not fair.”

“When do we get to uh… hang out again? Huh? I’m already jonesin’ to see you again. With or without skates.” Peter adjusted the phone against his ear, waiting. 

You peeked around the corner. Your mother was busy with her program, no longer paying attention to your conversation, likely assuming that it was just one of your girlfriends. How wrong she was… 

“Hang out? Is that what we did?” 

“Yea’, er… somethin’ like that.” 

“Whenever you want.” 

“Aw, man, don’t say that…” 

“Why not?” You ducked around the corner and plopped down on the third step of the staircase, winding the cord around your fingers. You knew why. You heard the way that Peter’s breath hitched in his throat, even through the phone. 

“Like… now?” 

“...Right now?” You asked back, almost in a teasing tone. “Like right now?”

“Yeah!” His tone was bright and excited, and it sounded like he was already out of breath.

“My house?” The suggestion was brave, but you knew your mom would be going to sleep within the half-hour. If you stayed quiet, she wouldn’t hear you over her bedroom TV. 

“Yeah! I mean…” He cleared his throat, trying to act casual. Way more casualness was needed - he was acting super lame and way too into you. Maybe you liked that. Maybe you didn’t. He couldn’t risk it. “Sure. If you want.” 

You began whispering your address, your eyes flitting to the living room. Your mother rose from the chair and went to the kitchen, none the wiser. You continued, knowing Peter had already committed it to memory. Your mother leaned down to cup your face as she went up the stairs and mouthed goodnight, and you covered the receiver with your hand.

“Night, mom. Love you.” 

“Be there in a flash.” You heard him say. 

You wanted to tell him to wait, but the line was already dead. As you moved, your hands shook and fumbled the receiver, dropping it once before getting it back on its cradle. Your mother had hardly gotten up the steps, and he’d be there any second, if he wasn’t already. You heard the door click shut and heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Mom?” You said, testingly. She didn’t respond, so you launched your body up the carpeted stairs, running up them like a four-legged animal. Her door was shut, nothing but the dull glow of her bedside table seeping through the crack at the bottom of the door. You raced back down the stairs, your socks padding quietly down them, despite the speed.

Your bedroom was down the hall, past the kitchen. You’d never been gladder to be on the bottom floor. You crept into your room, edging the door shut until the latch clicked into place and as it did, paused to laugh at yourself; you were doing everything so sneakily, as though you were a child acting out. You were a grown woman, albeit still in your mom’s house, but the point remained. Pushing aside the curtains, you carefully maneuvered the window up. It was a warm summer evening, there was no reason why you wouldn't open your window - perfectly normal, if your mother heard it. You stuck your head out. No Peter. Surely, he’d have been here by now. You breathed, looking at the base of the tree outside your window. A squirrel skittered up into the branches. Just as you were about to pull your head back inside, Peter’s head comically poked out from the corner of the house. He had clearly been standing by the front door, which horrified you.

“Took so long, I was about to knock – .”

You shushed him, and whispered harshly for him to get inside. He stuck one leg in, climbing in carefully – the last thing he needed was to be a total klutz and eat it on your bedroom floor.

“You’re crazy, you know that? The front door!?” 

“Cool your jets, babe. You didn’t tell me which window was yours. Where’s your mom?” 

“Upstairs, hopefully sleeping.” 

“Good,” he murmured into your lips, suddenly in front of you. He’d caught you off guard with his speed, but like everything he’d done from the moment he’d complimented your skates, he was so frustratingly cute. The kiss was warm and soft, you were in no position to resist it. He kissed you back towards the bed, his hands cupping your breasts, thumb tweaking your nipples over your shirt. Which reminded you… you were still in your skating clothes. There was far too much fabric in between his thumb and your nipple. 

“Lemme’,” you murmured sloppily into his lips, before finally pulling back. “Lemme’ change first, okay? It’ll look less suspicious. Who needs to cool their jets, huh?” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Hands up, Peter took a step back, watching you as you sauntered off towards your small closet. Your hips swayed back and forth to a song that wasn’t playing. Probably something you’d heard at the skating rink. You could admit it, you were putting on a bit of a show in hopes of arousing him. 

Still though, you hurried, sliding the doors open and pulling your shirt over your head. You reached around and undid your bra, glancing back at him cheekily. Woah, jackpot… he thought, hoping, that at that point, he wasn’t drooling like a cartoon dog. He was watching you intently, a crooked grin plastered on his face. Neck turned, you held his gaze, daring him to look as you slid your shorts and panties down over the curve of your ass. He looked, but it was so fast of a peek that it was impossible for you to notice. Now finished with your impromptu strip tease, you pulled a sleeping shirt from the shelf and threw it on, spinning on your heels to face him. 

Clad in nothing but the oversized t-shirt, you marched back to Peter, who had taken a seat on the edge of your bed. You climbed behind him, sliding your hands up the round muscle of his shoulders. On your knees, you were just taller than him and decided to take advantage of that by kissing his neck, slowly. You nipped here and there, suckling in other places while your hands explored the front of his shirt, ghosting over the faded print. 

Peter started sweating, and the stiffness between his legs got worse. Much worse. There was no hiding it, or ignoring it and he could’ve sworn that he heard you giggle behind him. His expression was a melange of pain and pleasure, and as your hands neared his crotch, he couldn’t really tolerate much more of your tender kissing… 

“Babe,” In a blur of motion, your back was pressed against your mattress, and he was back to tweaking your nipples again, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The action made you squirm. “Your foreplay is bitchin’, but you’re driving me crazy. Loco. I feel like I’m gonna’ bust.”

“Okay, so now what?” 

“Now what?” He repeated, almost mockingly. “It’s my turn.”  

His hand trailed down from your breasts over the curve of your stomach to the soft mound between your legs. You felt a buzzing directly on the sensitive bundle of nerves and looked down, equal parts confused and aroused. It was his hand, and not a vibrator, but instead of seeing his fingers move back and forth, you saw a flesh-coloured blur. Everything you’d learned about fingering… in the span of a few hours, he’d completely shattered. So, he could finger-fuck you at super-speed, and he could literally vibrate your clit. Of course he could. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, an intoxicating lilt to your words. Peter groaned, and ground his hips against the side of your thigh. His finger dipped down, collecting some of your warm, slithery wetness and pulling it back up, smearing it around your folds.

You clapped your hand over your mouth, legs quivering. The pad of his middle finger continued tapping your clit and you felt the very rapid climb of your orgasm. Without warning from him, Peter’s hand drifted away from your pussy, his slick fingers gripping your thigh. “Babe, I’m thirsty.” 

“Wh-what?” Breathless and sweaty, you quirked a brow at him.

“You got a soda or something?” 

“Uh, yeah, in the kitchen. Y-you’re really thirsty right now?” 

Before you could protest, you stood in the kitchen. He had opened the fridge, popped the tab on a can of Coke, guzzled it, and tossed it into the bin. You blinked. “What… Peter…!” You sniggered, covering your mouth to muffle the sound of your own voice. Your mother’s bedroom was right above the living room, and the last thing you wanted was her to wake. 

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t wait any longer. He’d gotten you downstairs, and now it was time to up the ante. Wrapping his arms around you, Peter zipped to the couch, and could’ve fucked your wet little cunt right there on the sofa. In the span of a few seconds, Peter could’ve drilled his aching cock inside of you, just long enough for you to feel it, just long enough for him to bust inside you and just long enough to make you quiver. Instead, he hovered over you, looking deep into your eyes, chest heaving. 

“What’re you so nervous for, babe? You know that the second I hear footsteps, we’d be back in your room.” 

“Peter, we can’t… my mom is right above us, dude!” 

“You’re no fun, c’mon.” He craned his neck down, pressing a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone. “C’mon, babe.”

You whimpered, rolling your lips inward and your eyes upward. For being such a top tier goof ball, he was unnervingly good at making you feel like your entire body was on fire. That electric current that you felt at the roller rink was back, buzzing through you at a high voltage.

“Peter…” you begged, hoping he’d change his mind because the reality was that he’d get his way if he didn’t. You were too turned on and too into him to say no. 

“C’moooon.” Another kiss. Internally, he was ripping stuffing. His confidence was outrageous, where did he get the balls? He wished you were holdin’ his – no. Stop right there. You ran your tongue along your teeth, and Peter watched the wet muscle as it swept across the enamel, glistening. 

“You promise?”  you asked. 

He nodded, too eagerly, his silver hair flopping with the motion. “Scout’s honour, or whatever. She won’t know a thing.” 

With a little huff, you spread your legs, allowing him in. Peter wasted no time in letting that wet, aching monster free, immediately pulling his gray boxers down over his balls. You pressed your hips into the couch cushions, backing away from the heat that met your groin and Peter followed them, pressing his hips right back into you. He groaned breathily, rutting his hips. You were soft and warm underneath him, and felt so soo good. The shaft of his cock met your wet folds, and he immediately found a rhythm, humping you in long, steady thrusts that had you curling your toes. Every time the velvet plush head of his cock bumped into your swollen clit, you whimpered. Ecstasy deluded your senses, eyes rolling back in your head.  

“Peter, oh my god…!” His hand clamped over your mouth, his dark eyes widening in a warning. 

“Shhhhhhh –” 

You nodded underneath his grip, remembering the threat of the situation. Peter kept his hand on your mouth, pressing tightly against your soft lips. He reached down, taking hold of his cock and pumped it in and out of his own fist a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“Ready?” 

With lusty, half-lidded eyes, you nodded. 

Peter pushed his leaking tip inside of you, then with a shaky breath, sunk the rest of the way in. The sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock was indescribable; hot, tight pleasure coursed through your body in waves as Peter found his rhythm. Fast. Fast rhythm. He fucked like a teenage boy, and you liked that – his bunny humps were deep and intentional, like the crimson head was trying to find the deepest point inside of you. Peter pressed his lightning-bolt patterned socks against the armrest of the couch, using it as leverage to push himself inside of you.

His cock made slick by your arousal, his hips moved against yours rapidly, hammering your cunt in a way that you physically thought impossible. In the darkness, you saw Peter smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual below him. Your tits bouncing underneath the shirt with each thrust, your eyes wide and lust-blown. His gaze dropped to them, watching, entranced. With your free hand, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up to your collarbone and letting your breasts fall free. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. 

Skates fast. Fucks fast. Cums fast. You thought, watching as his face contorted, his eyebrows knitting together, jaw dropping. His breaths came out in hurried little huffs as he pumped inside of you, filling your cunt with sticky, white heat. 

“Honey?” 

He froze. You froze. Stiffly, you turned your head towards the staircase, looking up into the darkness, petrified. 

“YEAH! YEah, mom, just… getting a drink!” You tried to keep your voice level, but there was something so inherently naughty about having a guy on top of you, his dick inside of you while you spoke to your mother. Your stomach was tight, muscles burning with the contraction. 

“Oh, okay! I thought I heard - I don’t know. I love you!”

“I love you too! Goodnight!”

Once the door clicked shut, and your head snapped back in Peter’s direction, who was still panting on top of you. Slapping his pectoral muscle hard, you mouthed go go go go! Naturally, before you’d finished the last ‘go’, Peter had pulled out and you were back in the safety of your bedroom before a drop of cum had time to leak from your swollen cunt. Back on your bed, your hair splayed out on the satin pillowcases. Peter was at your side, drawing circles on the exposed flesh of your stomach. 

“Did you uh -”

“No… I didn’t have a chance.” 

“Oh, uh… sorry about that. That happens a lot, y’know? Part of the whole speedster thing, I can’t always –” 

“Peter… shhh… it’s cute. It means you like me.” 

He pointed a finger at you, pushing his bottom lip into his top. “That… that is true. Hey. I have an idea.”

In the darkness, only illuminated by the moonlight that filtered in through the window, you saw Peter sink down to his stomach, resting between your legs. He moved both legs atop his shoulders, pulling you forward.

You felt a hot breath against your thighs, and whimpered. When a warm tongue licked between your wet folds, you moaned out, grinding your head back into the pillow. Peter slipped a single digit into your cunt gently, twirling his tongue around your clit as he did. He pumped it in and out a few times, feeling the way your cunt squeezed around him. Your wetness coated his finger, dripping down the length into his palm. 

You felt your cunt clenching, uncontrollably. Peter did too and withdrew his finger. His tongue flicked at your clit rapidly, the wet, slick sounds filling the quietness of the bedroom. His dark eyes flitted up to yours, watching every minute expression that flashed across your face. 

“S-slow down…” you whispered, not loud enough for him to hear. It was more of a desperate breath in the shape of the words. He didn’t hear you, and even if he had, he was far too busy burying his nose in your cunt, tasting your sweet fluids. His tongue lapped at your entrance and curled back towards his throat, swallowing. He groaned into her, the sound resonating through your core. 

“Peter… Peter!” You whispered harshly, gripping his head on either side. He didn’t budge, and his eyes drifted shut in ecstasy. Moving up to take a fistful of silver hair, you yanked him off your cunt, his reddened lips glistening and open, confused. His inky orbs looked up at you, dazed and desperate. 

“Whaaat?” he asked, a hint of annoyance tainting his usually upbeat voice. 

“Slow… down….” 

“Sorry but that’s not really… my…” He paused, looking at your weeping cunt again. “...thing. She doesn’t really look like she wants me to, either.” He reached forward, sweeping a single digit along the length of your pussy. You jerked, sensitive.   

“I can’t stand it, I’m gonna’ cum too quickly.” 

“Quick is in the name, babe.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if telling you that you were shit out of luck.

He dove back in, and picked up licking her again, from bottom to top. He was slightly slower than before – maybe he’d decided to have mercy on you. Or maybe he was just savouring the feeling of your cunt as it practically fluttered on his tongue, your clit throbbing with the sensitivity. You rocked your hips against his mouth, humping his pretty face with reckless abandon. It was the only control you had, because as soon as you started that, his tongue had returned to the speedy flipping of your clit.

You were going to cum – so fast that you hardly had time to process it. 

“Ffffuck… oh god,” you whimpered. Your cunt pulsed over and over again, and Peter was right there to feel it. He speared two fingers into her. Curled them upwards, feeling the clench of your orgasm as it came. He fucked you with his fingers until the throbbing stopped, and the first hint of overstimulation came – you whined, too loudly. 

Peter grinned, his slick fingers slipping from your pussy. With a mischievous little glimmer in his eyes, he observed them, watching as the thick, clear strands strung apart between his digits. 

You wanted to ask him on a date. He wanted to ask you on one. But neither of you said a thing. Neither of you said a thing, and just watched each other breathing, chests heaving, heavy with lust. Lookin’ cuter than she ever has… Peter thought, watching you in your post-coital state; sweaty and blushing. 

You knew you were going to be obsessed with him – were already obsessed with him. The high that you chased with skating was nothing compared to what you felt being around this silver dork, and all his little quirks.  

“So uh… same bat-time, same bat channel?” 

You chuckled. “Yeah, Peter. Yeah.” 

#Peter Maximoff #Peter Maximoff x reader #Peter Maximoff x you #Quicksilver x you #Quicksilver x reader #myfics #X-Men Movies

[jgracie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ TONIGHT, WE ARE YOUNG!

(american)footballer!jason grace x fem!reader

↳ the chronicles of jj & smartiepants!

masterlist | rules

an trigger warning me writing teenage boys (my fatal flaw)

“jason, are you sure this isn’t too much for this little gathering you’re having?” you asked, nervously biting on your lip as you stared yourself down in the mirror. all of the school’s football players were having a get together in celebration of their recent winning streak, and naturally, all their girlfriends would be coming too

since you were officially the captain’s girlfriend, that meant you were also invited. you and jason had only started dating a month and a bit ago, so your relationship was still blooming. meeting his friends and their girlfriends was a big step to you - this would make or break everything you had

tenderly, jason clutched your jaw. you felt the sting of his cold rings on your skin as he turned your face towards his, saying, “trust me, it’s not. you look stunning, babe. everything’ll be okay, i promise!” he smiled at your furrowed brows and leaned in, kissing the pout off of your face

if anyone looked stunning, it was your boyfriend. even in a simple button down and jeans, he had your heart doing somersaults in your body. feeling better, you grabbed your purse and made your way out of the house with jason, your parents not even bothering to remind him when to bring you home, knowing you’d always be safe with him

“jj!” you heard a chorus of men yell from the corner of the restaurant - it was nothing too fancy, but not too casual either. you let out a sigh of relief when you noticed their girlfriends were wearing outfits at the same level of casual as you

you walked over to the table hand in hand, and even when jason greeted all his friends (with you standing awkwardly and giving the occasional wave if they acknowledged you) he refused to detangle his fingers from yours

sitting next to one of the girlfriends, you put your purse on your lap and took everything in. you were the newest addition of this group, and yet, they didn’t seem to think you strange. this was a nice change from the friend groups of all the other boyfriends you had. there was truly nothing you hated more than feeling like you were sticking out like a sore thumb

“hi, i’m hazel, it’s nice to meet you!” the girl you were sitting next to said. she was gorgeous - with cinnamon brown hair and eyes so bright they might as well have been pure golden. a friendly smile was etched on her lips and you couldn’t help but feel one make its way onto yours

“it’s nice to meet you too,” you mumbled, looking away as you realised you had nothing much to say. were you supposed to ask her which one of the boys was her man, or was that too invasive? luckily, she told you herself, pointing at the guy sitting to the right of jason - frank, you remembered his name from how often (and highly) jason spoke of him

as the night went on, you found yourself becoming more comfortable with hazel and eventually all the other girls. they seemed intimidating from afar, but you came to realise they were all sweethearts who happened to be dating the most popular boys in school (just like you). as you laughed and chatted with everyone, you failed to notice a certain pair of electric blue eyes locked on you

“jj, are you even listening to me? this isn’t the end of the year, we still have more games to win!” one of jason’s friends said, snapping him out of the trance you put him in. instantly, all the boys’ heads whipped to look at you and they laughed as the reason why their captain was so distracted hit them

jason sheepishly smiled, a blush coating his cheeks as he received multiple slaps on the back (do u guys know what i’m talking ab here men do this i swear) and a couple ‘ohhh!!!’’s from his teammates. usually, he’d mind being teased in this way and would immediately shut down all their jokes. tonight, however, he couldn’t find it in him to care. he didn’t think he’d ever find it in him to care. jason could confidently announce his love for you from the rooftops - so what if they poked a bit of fun at him?

meanwhile, the girls had noticed the commotion and began giggling as one said, “he’s so in love with you! no one ever thought jj would find love, and yet here we are!” you felt your face heat up at her words - was jason really in love with you?

your question was answered the moment your eyes met his. there was no way he wasn’t in love, not with how the adoration seemed to be seeping out of them and radiating towards you in waves

that very moment would be etched in both of your souls forevermore, for it was when you both knew you were stuck with the other for life

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #pjo fanfic #jason grace drabble #jason grace blurb #cynwrites #˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ jj & smartiepants

[iluvmattsbeard]

on the phone (c.s)

master list

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: nothing! just a little angst.

preview: you knew with Chris being famous there would be constant obstacles in the way of your guys relationship. recently, you’ve been having doubts with your relationship since Chris and his brothers left for tour. you wouldn’t be able to see him for almost two months. you couldn’t handle the distance but Chris reassures you everything will be okay.

a/n: big time rush + chris sturniolo. my two favorites at once. masterpiece. - L 🤍

you stand there as you watch the boys load the bus with their luggage. they were leaving for their first tour ever. it was a bitter sweet moment. as happy as you were for the boys, you couldn't help but feel sad at the same time. you and Chris haven't been separated for so long. now he's going to be gone for almost two whole months. Chris asked if you wanted to come along, but you were so busy with college. you and Chris have been dating since high school. so him gaining so much popularity to the point people are paying to see him, has you feeling proud and worried.

you snap out of your thoughts when you hear Nick speak, "well, that was the last bag." you pout slightly as he embraces you in a hug. "I hope you have fun Nick." you say rubbing his back. it was also bitter sweet for you to see Nick and Matt gain so much attention as well. Nick and Matt were like the siblings you never had. you basically grew up with them. "thank you y/n. we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." he says with a smile, pulling away. you were always there by their side no matter what, supporting them. you gave them ideas for videos and you helped film them. when they were doubting themselves, you were there to encourage them to keep pushing. now look, they finally got the recognition they deserve.

Matt embraces you in a hug as he speaks, "we'll update you okay?" you nod and smile. now, the moment you've been dreading. you pull away from Matt when you meet eyes with Chris. you cover your mouth slightly as you try to hold in your tears with a smile. he walks up to you and pulls you in for a big hug, holding you. "hey, don't cry okay? I'll be back soon." he says with his face in the crook of your neck. you sniffle with a soft laugh before speaking, "I know. i’m just so proud of you three." he pulls away a bit still holding onto you. he looks into your eyes as he wipes your tears away. "i'll be fine!" you say with a weak smile. "I'll text and call you every day okay?" he says reassuringly. you nod as he holds your face, bringing you both into a soft passionate kiss. "I love you y/n." he whispers after pulling away. "I love you too Chris." you say wiping your left over tears. you hug one last time before he turns around and gets on the bus.

you stand there as you see the three of them look out the window towards you. you laugh softly as you wave good bye, with them doing the same. when they leave, you walk to your car and sit in there bawling your eyes out right away. you really hoped Chris would keep his words.

the next day, you wake up to seeing a text from Chris.

Chris

hey baby! we're preparing for our show today. can't stop thinking about you already!

you smile before texting back.

Y/N

hi handsome! I hope you have a good show. I know you'll do amazing!

Chris

thank you! you're my motivation.

you let out a small laugh as you get up and start off your day. day 1 without him starts now. you do your morning routine and head to your kitchen. you made yourself a bowl of cereal and sat down scrolling on your phone. when on Twitter, you were seeing fans of the triplets talk about how excited they were to see them. you saw some fans talk about how attractive Chris was and how even more attractive he would look in person. your heart tightens a bit at the comments. you knew you were all his but, sometimes you couldn't help but imagine all these girls all over him. you just shrug off the thoughts that popped up into your head.

as it got later in the day, you continued to scroll through Twitter again as you see the meet and greet pics fans posted. it was weird seeing Chris have his hands on some other girl. but what did you expect? you sigh as a call comes through. it was Chris. you pick it up and answer, "hey Chris" "hey baby. we just got finished with the first show! as nervous as I was, it actually went great. everyone was so nice!" he says happily. "that's awesome Chris. i've seen many meet and greet pics already." you say. "what's wrong y/n?" he asks. your eyes widen a bit as you respond, "what? nothing. why do you think something is wrong?" you say lying through your teeth.

he lets out a small chuckle before responding, "i'm pretty sure I know you. we've been together for how long now? I think I know the way you act." you stay quiet for a bit. he wasn’t wrong. "okay fine, i'm just being a little jealous. you look so cute posing with the fans. a little too cute." you respond. "you? jealous?" he questions with a soft laugh, "well i’ll have you know, you’re all i’m thinking about the whole time." he says. you smile a bit before responding, "okay well still! they get to be in your arms while I have to sit here and suffer." "well like I said, we'll be together after and you'll have me all to yourself when all of this is over okay?" he reassures you. "okay i'm sorry. I know this is your big moment. i don’t want to spoil it by being like this." you say letting out a small nervous laugh. "yeah but your feelings are valid baby." he says.

you both talk for the rest of the night before falling asleep on the phone. as time goes by, it's already the 7th show of the tour. Chris has been progressively getting busier and you had to focus on school. so, your conversations were kept short recently. it was late in the night already as you laid there sniffling. you were left on delivered for a while. yeah you knew he was busy but, this is what you were afraid of. your biggest fear was Chris getting caught up in the limelight that he just has no time for you. you shut your eyes and cry yourself to sleep.

Chris

hey baby! I'm sorry I didn't call you last night. I was so tired out.

all you did was look at it and not respond. you didn't want him to think he had to text you or call you. he should just focus on himself you thought. you didn't want him to think you wanted to be his number 1 priority. you just shut your phone and start off your daily routine.

Chris

hey what are you up to? show is about to start. the weather is nice here in St Louis. I miss you.

you read the text but don't respond again. you were too caught up in your studying to send back a text anyways. you just needed to be distracted.

later in the night, you laid in bed as you see another text.

Chris

is everything okay? are you mad at me?

again, you shut off your phone and drifted off to sleep. after about a hour, your phone buzzes. you groan and pick it up to read the contact name. it was Chris again. you answer and talk tiredly, "hello Chris?" you hear him sniffle before talking, "hey y/n. did I wake you up?" his voice sound raspy. was he crying? "yes but it's okay. what's wrong?" you say sitting up in your bed. "I just missed your voice that's all. I'm sorry I can't be able to talk as much and when shows are over, I just get so tired out." he says. "that's alright." you say feeling terrible. you were so caught up in your feelings that you didn't realize Chris felt the same way. "I know this is all hard right now. just know i'm thinking about you everywhere I go. when I go from city to city, you're always on my mind and there's nothing more that I want but to have you here with me." he says making a tear drop slide down your face.

"I just didn't realize it would be this hard." you say wiping your tear away, letting out a soft laugh. "trust me, I know. we just have to be strong okay?" he says. "soon we'll be together." he adds on. you smile at his words as you whisper, "I love you" "I love you too beautiful." he says. but you still couldn’t shake off the thought. he’s only getting more famous. next thing you know, he’ll just be even busier. it had you doubting everything.

*time skip*

a few days later, you came home from work bawling your eyes out. you were feeling overwhelmed by everything. you have a terrible boss and he would use his power against everybody. you laid down on your bed with your dirty clothes as you pick up your phone to call Chris. there was no answer. you threw your phone across the bed as you pressed your face against your mattress crying some more. is this how it'll be from now on? when you need him, he's too busy? you felt selfish thinking that. Chris worked hard for where he's at now. but what about you?

you just shut your eyes and drifted off to sleep. you felt like everyday was just a constant replay. nothing was new. you were either at home doing school, actually going to school to take exams, or at work being treated terribly. while Chris was having the time of his life.

*time skip*

even though Chris reassured you everything will be fine, you couldn't help but feel disappointed still. when you called, he wouldn't answer. when you texted, he texted hours later. it was making you more upset. you only asked for one thing. it was for him to communicate, but he didn't. you always felt like he was leaving you hanging. you scroll on your phone as you see posts from the tour and sigh.

Y/N

Chris I don't know if I could do this.

Chris

what are you talking about baby?

Y/N

this. I can't stand this. I know this is your first tour but, now I can't even imagine more in the future.

again, you felt guilty for feeling this way. you see him type but eventually it stops. you suddenly get an incoming call from him. you pick up about to speak but he cuts you off, "y/n please. listen to me." "this tour will be over soon. once it's over, we'll pick up right where we left off. I know it's hard but, you're not alone. do you think i just let you slip off my mind?" he says. "Chris, I understand you feel the same and trust me I feel terrible even feeling this way but, you're only getting more noticed. who knows how many more tours you'll be on. what am I supposed to do? because even when you are here, you're so caught up with You tube and I just don't want to get in between that." you say. "and when I needed you? you didn't answer me. then you didn't even apologize the next day for it."

Chris stays quiet as he gulps. "I don't know Chris. how will this all work out if this is what you do? this is your job, and I just don't fit in." you finish. "well i'm not the only one whose said this, my brothers also agree that I wouldn't even be here with these opportunities if it weren't for you. all I ask is for you to support me no matter where I am. just because we aren't near each other, doesn't mean this won't work. you do fit in my life. just because I have all this recognition, doesn't mean i'm just going to give up on us. you're the only one who truly knows. you knew me from the start. you do fit in." he says as you let out a sigh, "I can't do this i'm sorry." you say before hanging up.

Chris was left standing there slowly pulling his phone away from his ear. you shut off your phone while hugging one of the stuffed animals Chris got you back in high school. you look at it as you thought to yourself. you missed how simple things use to be.

Chris POV

it's been a while ever since I last heard from y/n. every show has been a struggle for me. we were slowly getting towards the end, but was it worth it? was this all worth it without y/n? our Boston show is our last stop. that was coming up in a few days.

Chris

we can work this out.

i've been texting her and all she does is read them. why couldn't she realize this was hard for me too? "Chris?" I hear Nick call out for me. all I do is look up at him. "we have to set up for today." he says. "yeah i'll be there." I respond looking back at my phone. "Chris, everything will be okay. she'll come around." he says putting a hand on my shoulder. I sigh before responding, "I understand where she comes from. this is all so new. but even when we aren't touring, we let filming get in the way too." "well, don't think about it too hard. I know she'll come around." Nick says before walking away. I really hope so. my heart aches every time i think about her.

End of Chris POV

time passes by as it's now the last show. the triplets finally arrive back to Boston and the first thing Chris wants to do is see you.

Chris

y/n we just got to Boston. please let me see you.

read.

Chris

please i’m back. this is what we’ve been waiting for.

read.

Chris puts his face into his hands as he groans. "come on Chris. lets go stop by the house and say hi to mom and dad." Matt says patting his back. Chris sits up, “have you heard from y/n?” he asks. Matt just looks at him and shakes his head, “nope.” Chris just sighs and nods, “well if she texts, tell her to answer me.” he says.

later during the day, after visiting their parents, the triplets finally arrive at the venue. Chris was washing his face real quick before putting on his outfit. he looks in the mirror shaking his head, "here we go." he whispers out. the time comes and the crowd can be heard chanting. the triplets come out running onto stage as the crowd cheers louder. their show then starts. the show was hilarious. it was obvious the triplets were meant to be up on stage. the fans were really loving them.

after a bit, something catches Chris' eyes. it was a big sign that read 'I love Chris!". "that's a pretty big sign." Chris says into the mic. "is that even allowed?" he continues with a small laugh. "your right. nobody else has signs." Matt says joining with a laugh.

"show yourself!" Nick shouts out into the mic. the sign moves revealing a face. "i'm sorry! I didn't get the memo!" you shout out. Chris locks eyes with you as his mouth is left agape in shock. you smile at him as you hear the crowd cheer. the fans obviously knew about you from the start. they adored your guys' relationship.

"hello y/n!" Nick shouts out with a smile. "surprise!" Matt says shaking Chris. Chris then gets off the stage as he pushes through the crowd to get to you. you drop the sign onto the ground as he embraces you in a hug, nearly lifting you up.

"you scared me y/n." he says hiding his face in the crook of your neck. the crowd was going crazy. Marylou and Jimmy were standing there next to you guys, clapping and smiling. you pull away from him as you look into his eyes, "I'm sorry for ever doubting us." you say. he shakes his head before responding, "don't even apologize y/n. i'm just happy you're here." you let out a small laugh as you push him away softly, "okay we'll talk after the show! get back up there." he nods as he kisses you on the cheek, running back up onto stage.

when the show ends, you meet Chris backstage and he embraces you in the same big hug from earlier. "I can't handle another goodbye." Chris whispers. "next time, you're coming with me you understand?" he says. you let out a giggle and kiss his cheek, "okay I will.” you say. “we have lots to talk about.” he says pulling away, planting a soft kiss on your lips. you smile and nod as you both sit down with him talking about the whole experience. even though you doubted this whole thing, you don't regret being in this moment right now. you'll go through what you went through over again if it means you'll be in his arms in the end. no matter what, world wide.

a/n: if you know the iconic sign scene from the show, you know what’s up. LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED! THANK YOU! - L 🤍

#Spotify #christopher sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets imagines #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #big time rush #matt sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x reader #big time rush imagine #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fanfic

[alottiegoingon]

love letters

shauna shipman x fem!reader

summary: the one where reader receives love letters from jeff

warnings: jeff mentioned for plot reasons, jealousy mentions, homoerotic friendship?, shauna is reader's best friend, no crash timeline, fluff but angsty ending, not proofread

this may have a part II in the future?

you thought it was weird when the first thing you saw as soon as you opened your locker was a letter. you weren't exactly the most popular girl ever but you weren't a loner. you were right in the middle.

you blinked rapidly, eyes darting back and forth to the envelope of the size of your hand and to the completely empty hallway. you were the only one in there. judging by the outside, it couldn't be a warning from school or from the book club you went to. it also didn't make sense to be someone bullying you, it was too neat.

you withdrew the paper nestled inside and carefully unfolded it. it wasnt anything professional, just words meticulously written on a notebook paper. you peer through narrowed eyes, attempting to recognize the handwriting but it wasn't like you knew everyone at school so intimately to know how they wrote.

in the small piece of paper, the words "you're always pretty but today you look as stunning and vibrant as a daisy in spring. love, jeff." are written in a sleek, rounded calligraphy, each letter carefully crafted with black pen ink. you feel your heart skip a beat as you read the name signed on the bottom, not believeing your own eyes. coincidentally or not, daisies were your favorite flowers and you couldn't stop thinking about how he knew that.

jeffrey sadecki was one of the popular boys in wiskayok high. almost every girl wanted to be with him while the boys wanted to be him. you weren't one of those girls, though. you despised how all of them would humiliate themselves and change their appearance or lie about their favorite movies or bands just to get attention from the boys. nothing too girly or the boys would laugh about it but nothing too bold or you wouldn't be delicate enough.

one detail caught your attention and brought you back to reality as you were overthinking a simple letter. the way jeff had signed his name was different from the rest of the words. more angular and noticeably larger. maybe he was in a hurry or too nervous, it didn't matter. the important thing now was to tell shauna, your best friend. you slammed the locker door and hid the letter on your pocket, rushing to the wiskayok high soccer field to let her know everything.

now, in terms of knowing someone closely, shauna was at the top of your list. shauna shipman was your best friend since you were in middle school as two twelve years old with awkward music taste, bad haircuts and an embarassing fashion sense. after school, you and shauna would spend hours locked inside your bedroom talking about your celebrity crushes, make fun of the boys after their unsuccessful try to make a move on the popular girl, and devouring an entire carton of bubblegum ice cream, that shauna would always bring to you, while watching movies. shauna wasn't a huge fan of it. it was way too sweet. but it was your favorite after all.

"i think you should pick the flavor next time." you randomly spoke while the two of you were sharing a bed and watching grease from 1978.

your leg was resting against shauna's, the back of your leg gently positioned on top of her knee. it first started as a way to annoy her when you were around fifteen but then it just became a casual thing. shauna would look all tense with a tight face until she felt your warmth.

"why? it's your favorite." shauna's entire face twists in confusion. her eyes immediately fly at you but you were focused on the small tv. inside her mind, in her own little world, nothing was more important than your sudden hate towards ice cream.

"it's too childish. i don't think any other girl on her last year would pick bubblegum ice cream as her favorite." you groan, frustrated.

"that's so stupid, it's just a flavor. and, you know, i think it matches you."

her words made you curious enough to shift your attention away from one of your favorite movies. she seemed to understand your fogginess and explained herself before you could say a word.

"i mean, it's fun and colorful and free of any judgments. it is also the favorite of a lot of kids and kids are way too honest to lie about something. so if they like it, it's because it's really good.. it's unique, i think."

"wow, shauna..." you subtly nod your head in agreement, feeling touched by her words. "you can really compliment an ice cream flavour that much? "you smile as you tease her.

"just shut up and eat your ice cream. you're so annoying."

now, in senior year, pretty much nothing had changed. you would still spend the afternoons after practice with shauna as well as the weekends. shauna was also really smart and would eventually help you with math, literature or english during finals. she was pretty good at it but it didn't surprise you at all; she was always carrying a book around or that super secret journal that you swore she would write on after you fell asleep during sleepovers.

"jeff? wow... are you sure?" shauna immediately looked away from you and made herself busy, forcing her uniform into her bag, at the second she heard his name. shauna wasn't exactly very fond of him as well but she never sounded so lifeless.

"yeah, he signed his name! i guess it could be one of his friends messing around with me but the handwriting is way too pretty for someone who did it as a joke." you sigh. "and he also mentioned a daisy in the letter. that's my favorite flower, shauna!"

shauna was avoiding your eyes at all costs but, for a split second, you saw her eyebrows knit.

"wait, so you're happy with that? i thought you didn't like him." shauna sounds unbothered but you notice how she rub her hands together to brush the sweat off or how she was incessantly adjusting her shirt.

"i don't. boys are stupid." you give her a determined nod to dispel the thought away. "it's just... it feels nice to know that someone cares about me. we've never had a conversation before but somehow he knows about my favorite flower so, i mean..." your voice trails off.

you never thought of yourself as someone who was excited to date boys. the idea of going out on a friday night with a guy never made you burst with joy. you'd rather spend the night with your best friend and have your typical sleepovers or going out for movies. even watching shauna write on her out of reach journal in silence was more interesting. despite shopping together when needed, playing around with clothes by putting them on and running a fashion show, dressing up for a boy and putting makeup on wasn't your thing, whatsoever. it wasn't fun cause shauna wouldn't be there to make you laugh or roll her eyes to hide how her eyes would affectionately get lost on your figure. "i guess he must be really interested on you, then. right?" shauna looks at you for the first time that afternoon but she looks different than usual, offering a strained smile.

[💌]

the next days slipped away from your hands in a blink of an eye. surprisingly, jeff wasn't actually that bad or at least he tried to be a normal nice guy around you.

you remembered how he was actually nervous when you two exchanged a few words and he made sure to let you know that he was responsible for the letter when he asked if you had liked it with a huge cocky smile. at first, you couldn't care less, he was trying too hard. but then the letters kept coming and you finally accepted to go on a date with him.

you went out for the movies and when you felt him pulling that classic move on you by sliding his arm on top of your shoulders, you had to fight against a giggle. shauna would love to laugh at that with you later. then, you stopped by your favorite place; a small family-run dinner that had a great milkshake of your favorite flavour.

"you don't think it's way too childish to be someone's favorite?" you hear jeff's voice fill your ears while you were focused on getting the last drop of the ice cream. you look up at him with a baffled look, not paying attention to whatever he had just said.

"the ice cream. i never dated someone who liked bubblegum."

"oh. yeah..." you feel heat rise to your cheeks and out of nowhere, you began to trip over your words. "it's not my favorite. it's stupid. i was... just trying something different!"

the days turned to weeks and the weeks became months. just like that, you were walking through the hallways of wiskayok high with jeff's arm over your shoulder. you weren't sure if you liked being seen as his property or something silly like that, but a lot of girls would die to be in your place.

you weren't sure if you actually liked him. the most excited part of your date nights was to eat for free and memorize all the idiotic things he had said to gossip about it with shauna later. besides, you could rarely pick the movie or talk about your day. the name "randy walsh" was stuck on your brain thanks to how often jeff would mention him and his funny stories that would actually make you sleepy.

but, again, maybe you just had to try harder.

the letters kept coming almost everyday. and if not everyday, then at least once a week. somehow, always pretty and perfectly rounded letters with his sloppy signed name on the bottom.

[💌]

"i can't wait to read it! people are saying that it's sad but i think it's gonna be great." you were telling shauna about the new stephen king's book that had came out that week; the green mile.

"i think sad is good. people underestimate how great tragedy can be." she casually mumbles, grabbing the carton of ice cream from your desk that you would share before walking to you.

you were about to agree with her when her words cut you at the moment her eyes met the packaging.

"what's that?" she said with a deflated tone.

"ice cream?" you chuckle at her obvious question. usually she would tease you back or give you a snort. but now she decided to ignore your lighthearted words.

"no, i mean the flavor. since when do you like vanilla?" she reads the words vanilla over and over again before looking up at you.

"oh, yeah. i changed. i'm too old for bubblegum now."

"how?"

"just eat it, alright? jeff said vanilla is too boring but i think it's better than being a kid flavor, right?" you giggle, oblivious to her clear annoyance.

shauna's hands close into fists as soon as she practically smashed the carton against the desk. the loud noise made you look at her almost instantly with widen eyes.

"are you okay?" your voice sounded so low-pitched and whispered that shauna almost couldn't hear it.

"are you? we used to laugh about stupid boys and now you are suddenly changing yourself because of jeff? he barely knows how to spell the world embarrass." you notice her voice slowly getting louder.

"this is insane. it's just ice cream, shauna! you are just jealous cause he writes pretty letters for me while you stay home to your pathetic journal." you feel your blood boil as she accuses you of changing because of a fucking boy. you would never.

shauna doesn't say a word and the silence made you realize that, deep down, she was right. her eyes are staring past your soul as she feels your words hit her and it made you regret them after a second.

"i didn't mean tha-" you tried to apologize but she was faster.

"no, you know what? you're right. i spend my friday nights with my pathetic journal but at least i don't pretend to be someone i'm not just to make a boy like me." she takes a step closer and this time her voice is low and tamed. "at least i'm not weak and don't attach myself to the first person who offers just a hint of interest on me cause i'm desperate for attention."

her sharp words sink in, eating you from the inside out. she doesn't seem sorry and you don't feel bad anymore. you feel your jaw clenching and tears were welling up on your eyes while you stand up from your bed, face to face with your best friend.

"fuck you." you struggled to speak through the lump in your throat.

the room got quiet and the sorrow was almost palpable. shauna's pupils were teary, fully dilated and unusually darker, regarded with disappointment. she didn't say a word before leaving your room and shutting the door behind her.

you couldn’t think of anything while collapsing into your bed, sobbing against the pillow, other than how badly you hated vanilla ice cream.

[💌]

barely able to sleep last night, you were distracted by shauna’s words and the fact that this was the first serious fight that you two had ever shared. shauna didn’t talk much about her feelings and would let everything merge together until she was bursting out with anger or a bunch of passive aggressive comments but she was never too harsh on you.

you knew you had to apologize and fix things with her. even though her words weren’t exactly the kindest, she was just worried about you, you thought. you wondered if she liked jeff in secret and was jealous of him even if she had never mentioned him before.

you weren’t sure if she had feelings for jeff but you weren’t sure if you did. he could be a jerk sometimes and definitely too self centered but he made you feel important. he liked you enough to know your favorite food, even though he called it childish, and your favorite movies, that he thought it were too weird for a girl, and your favorite books, that he mentioned how boring they were.

yes, he was decent and overall, compared to the others, he was a nice person. but then, as you were in the bathroom getting ready this morning, you remembered that he wasn’t the first person to ever care

you remembered when shauna showed up at your door once at 3am when you couldn’t sleep, way too worried about finals, with your favorite treats and a book of hers that reminded her of you. or when she spent an entire month learning how to draw daisies because you loved them and she wanted to give you a special handmade gift. a week later, your room was filled with drawings of different sizes of your favorite flower. there was even a small piece taped to the wall of your bathroom right next to the mirror.

then, it occurred to you that, once while watching romeo and juliet late at night, you mentioned how much you loved romantic gestures like receiving letters from the person you loved and shauna mocked you but then, two weeks later, you received one. it was a weird coincidence but it was there, right in front of your eyes.

you were feeling like complete shit when you stopped by your locker, already regretting leaving your bed this morning. you flinch as you see jeff magically appearing behind the small metal door with a huge creepy smile and a small bag in hands.

“i got something for you.” were the words he said before handing you the content from inside the paper bag. you weren’t expecting anything and definitely not after the shitty night you had. you were determined to break up with him but the idea of it vanished as you took a first glance at what your new gift was.

the new stephen king’s book, the green mile, right under your nose. your jaw was almost hitting the floor thanks to the beautiful cover.

“jeff… this is amazing! i’ve been wanting to read this since last week and i couldn’t find it anywhere. thank you!” you had to force your words out, too stunned to speak properly. looking away from the book, you saw how he looked genuinely happy with your reaction.

“it was nothing. i just like paying attention to my girl.” you ignored the smug tone and focused on the book.

jeff didn’t wait any longer for you to finish your appreciation moment and pulled in for a kiss, tightly holding onto your waist. he hugged you right after and while you were resting your head on his shoulder, he was looking at shauna right behind you two.

greeting her from a distance with a satisfied and arrogant grin was his way of saying thank you. shauna resentfully nodded and ignored the feeling of drowning in her own emotions as she watched you leave with his arm around your waist.

quickly, she placed the receipt from the bookstore in her backpack along with her notebook and favorite writing pen before disappearing into the crowded hallway.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader

[allthegothihopgirls]

What kind of music do you think each of the Batfam members listen to? (Besides Jason who is obviously a Mitski stan)

OH I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!!!!! i'm gonna tryyyyy and take this seriously

starting off i think alfred's music taste influences just about everyone in the manor to some degree. lots of classical music flowing through the hallways at most hours of the day, the music reminds everyone of home. i think it's a general rule of thumb in the family that if you want to locate alfred, just follow the sound of mozart.

drawing off a bit of canon, i think dick listens to a lot of popular 80s stuff. the cure, joy division, the b-52s, billy joel, abba etc. that one panel of him humming 'here comes the sun' also comes to mind, i think he'd enjoy the beatles. however i do think he'd also be into some soft rock, maybe just a little bit of more intense stuff too. fleetwood mac's a big one i think he'd like. i've mentioned in a post before how i think dick would enjoy foo fighters in his post-robin rebellion phase, and i stand by that.

i do also enjoy his insane love for david bowie in the live-action titans adaption... very dear to me. i take that as gospel. also have a slight feeling he's a bit of a jazz guy once in a blue moon.

however i don't think he'd be overly into music, (the artists though, that's a whole other thing), i think he's also just happy to flick on the radio to some random dated station... or, don't crucify me... the top hits of the day.

i think jason's taste is a bit more refined. he's the #1 victim of alfred's classical music agenda, sitting in the library he's got something like 'lacrimosa' looping endlessly.

unlike dick who's got a happy-go-lucky approach to music, i think jason feels into it a bit more. he's joyriding through the city and listening to slipknot, sleeping with sirens, misfits etc etc. he's just looking for background music, maybe he's playing dashboard confessional, or... hear me out... lana del rey. he's out on patrol and is playing 90's rap through his helmet's bluetooth.

i think he'd also enjoy amy winehouse, the boys next door, no doubt, alice in chains, and maybe a bit of lorde. he's definitely into more indie bands too, local stuff. makes his own mixtapes and you'd only be able to recognise like 20% of the bands by name. he's also the one batfam member who i think would go to war to defend the songs he feels deeply about.

tim's a bit more difficult to narrow down, but i'll throw 90s alternative out there; jimmy eat world, oasis, radiohead, weezer, pearl jam type stuff. i'm also very set in my ways about femme-pop tim, which is definitely more out there and harder to justify. in terms of that i think beyonce, rihanna, and britney spears are the big three he'd enjoy.

i just think he likes anything with a beat tbh, it's not so much about genre or the actual song, as it is about the mood. similarly to dick, i don't think he's typically meticulous with defining his taste or anything, just happy to listen to whatever's making him feel good.

as for damian, i think anything with soothing instruments entices him. mainly classical, but not just limited to european stuff, i'm thinking of tyagaraja, toru takemitsu etc just off the top of my head. he'd also like elton john, queen, and other older artists with a polished vocal and avantgarde nature. i'm also going to put cartoon soundtrack music into the mix, specifically songs from adventure time. for whatever reason i'm also super drawn into the idea of him being big on kpop, although i don't know enough about the genre to make specific assumptions.

steph (ik she's not exactly batfam but i'm including her anyways) listens to predominantly female artists, and oscillates between very uplifting pop stuff, and.. societal hatred. so i think on one hand she's very into marina and the diamonds, kesha, and olivia rodrigo, but also paramore, hole, fiona apple, lorde etc. in contrast to all of that though she's also a huge fan of the beatles' solo careers, particularly paul mccartney.

cass is into a lot of the music she's done for ballet performances. the music for the snow queen instantly comes to mind as something that would be a favourite of hers. this might be a bit out there, but i think she'd enjoy grimes a lot, mostly because of how enriching it is to just listen to the sounds of, without having to pay much mind to the words she's speaking (grimes never really makes a lot of sense anyways). apart from that i don't think she really listens to all that much music, maybe some 2000s pop she hears on the radio driving around with steph.. i did enjoy the all star gag in batgirls (2022).

babs has a pretty similar taste to steph i think (i believe steph may have gotten some of her taste from her). she's a big fan of stevie nicks, gwen stefani, maybe the cranberries, hole, dolly parton, janet jackson, lauryn hill, and lesley gore. i'd like to say she enjoys a bit of 70s eccentric too, the doors, blondie, bowie etc. i don't think she's overly fussed with what she's listening to, as long as it doesn't sound too watered down and modern-pop like.

and i don't really know enough about duke to make assumptions, so i'm just going to let him sit out of this one. i also don't think bruce has any time for music, except for a bit of classical to help him concentrate every so often.

#i KNOW how we feel about suggesting that big buff guys listen to lana del rey but you've gotta hear me out #asks #anon #!!!! #batfam #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #dc #dcu #dc comics #robin #tim drake #damian wayne #cass cain #steph brown #barbara gordon #red hood #nightwing #red robin #batgirl #dc spoiler #dc orphan #dc batman #batkids #batboys #the robins #gothihop speaks

[smallishbeansshipbracket]

NEXT PART OF WHY YOU SHOULD VOTE SMALLETHO!!!!

Non-Canon ver.

1. Boat Boys has been getting so very popular recently and deserves to be voted!1!! It has been needing to get this recognition since last life.

2. Joel has actively been on the boat boys side of Tumblr so if he were to ever see this don't you think he'd want to see boat boys winning?1??

3. IF BOAT BOYS WINS THIS I WILL ACTUALLY DRAW WHATEVER GOES IN MY REQ BOX OF MY ART BLOG.

4. C!Joel and C!Etho are BASICALLY CANON lore-wise. /J

5. Someone had said this but we need more boat boys fans alive. It may seem like we are pretty big but we are all just all extremely not normal. There is about 30 of us just in a circle tweaking over anything.

6. The mass amount of boat boys content that will come out of this?? Like c'mon guys.

7. It's my birthday wish

8. MY FRIEND SAID THAT SHE'LL VOTE MOUNDERS OVER BOAT BOYS AND THATS ONE LESS VOTE WE NEED TO OVER POWER!!!

9. Joel and Etho aren't normal about each other like how we aren't normal about them!! It all evens out!!! Please vote them!!!

10. Their Minecraft colors look cute together

THAT IS MY TOP 10 REASONS WHY YOU SHOULD VOTE BOAT BOYS NON CANON VER. Will I make another one tomorrow? Be waiting for it and as always

Join the dark side, vote boat boys and join us!!!1!

more boatboys propaganda !

#smallishbeansshipbracket #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #propaganda #ethoslab #boat boys

[dregs-leftovers-parsley]

trying to make a list of 70’s to early 80’s proto-yuri, if anyone knows about other works please lemme know so I can add them ^_^

I grabbed the summaries off of manga ookoku, except for umibe no cain and maya no souretsu, which are from Wikipedia and mangadex respectively

“aries no otometachi” (1973) - satonaka machiko

-Kubo Emiko and Mizuho Romi are two girls born under the Aries sign. Emiko is an earnest and innocent girl who grew up with gentle parents. On the other hand, Romi, who was raised by her fashion designer mother, has a fierce temper. Emiko admires Takashi from the equestrian club, but when she meets the strong and beautiful Romi, she gradually becomes attracted to her. Is this excitement... love?

“futaripocchi” (1971) - riyoko ikeda

-Kaoru, a poor girl and Reiko, the daughter of a wealthy family are on good terms and attend Aisei Girls' Academy together. These two, who had completely opposite upbringings and personalities, ended up becoming sisters when their parents remarried. Even as they rebel against each other and hurt each other, they gradually understand each other and deepen their bond, but eventually Reiko begins to develop romantic feelings for Kaoru. Attacked by the absurdities of society the beautiful sisters set off on a journey, just the two of them. 

“yureru soushun" (1973) - riyoko ikeda

-Mako, a well-liked girl who has excellent grades and is good at sports falls in love with Junko, a beautiful junior who is hated by all the female students at school. Mako is trapped by Junko's intense love and jealousy...!?

“hadashi no mei” (1974) - fukuhara hiroko

-May, a high school student, is an ordinary girl who admires Kido from the soccer club. While she was watching Kido as he practice in the schoolyard as usual, a ball suddenly flew into her face! Thanks to this, May was able to make contact with the boy she loves, but at the same time, Misaki, who was wandering around the school in casual clothes, calls out to her as "Maya."

“kurenai ni moyu” (1979) - fukuhara hiroko

-Suzuna* went to a shrine to see the double cherry blossoms in full bloom on her way home from school. However, she gets tangled up with the biker gang that was hanging out there and is about to be taken away when she is rescued by Sarasa*, who happens to be passing by. Suzuna is immediately captivated by the sight of this gallant knight on a motorcycle, with her swaying red hair and feminine gestures. After that, Suzuna and Sarasa hit it off, but as they continue to be chased by biker gang members, a major incident involving the two develops...!!

*names may be pronounced differently, i haven’t read it

“kanojotachi” (1982) - kashi michiyo

-On her first date with her boyfriend, Misono*, a second year high school student, meets Ryuko*, who looks like a beautiful young man. At the fashion show her boyfriend brought her to she sees Ryuko on stage as a model. Ryuko is a lesbian and is dating one of her brother’s friends, Susan. Misono becomes interested in Ryuko, and Ryuko is also attracted to Misono's purity, but...

*names may be pronounced differently, i haven’t read it

“ibutachi no heya” (1983) - nagahama sachiko 

 (no summary found)

“maya no souretsu” / “Maya’s Funeral Procession” (1972) - ichijo yukari

-A horror story, in which the main character and her family go to their summer house for vacation and people start dying one by one. The twist is that the main character, Reina, is falling in love with her mysterious neighbor, Maya. But who is Maya really, and how does she know so much about Reina's family?

“umibe no kain” (1980) - kimura minori

-One day, Sano*, a fashion designer who lives in a beach town, meets Nobuko*. Sano casually invites her to her home and gives her a ticket to an exhibition on the way home. At the exhibition, Sano feels as though she lost to a more popular designer, but Nobuko says she prefers her designs. On the way home, Nobuko confesses her troubles about not being able to dress femininely. Since she lives alone, they meet often and talk about various things. As Nobuko confides in and receives advice from Sano, she begins to develop feelings for her. 

*names may be pronounced differently, i haven’t read it

#yuri

[moonriver080]

【Funny Story Time】

I wrote an article for my 6 pictures

I tried to machine translate a paragraph and modify it.

But it's too long. I give up.

During Links meal breaks, the chains sometimes share anecdotes from the past to improve their understanding of each other ......

Well, sometimes it's not so much the anecdotes that are shared as it is the puzzles or the creepy pasts that are shared on reflection. (And some people seem to enjoy it.

It was a spring-flowery afternoon, and the sun was just right, and mixed with the sweet aroma of the chef's well-cooked courser milk soup, it had to be said that it was a very good soothing respite for Links, who had just finished a hard-fought battle, both physically and mentally.

Everything was just right, so Warriors let his guard down and picked a conversation that had left him a bit exhausted for the next week (Oh! Don't get me wrong, it was actually quite an interesting process and development /grin/)

Huh, how could he be blamed, after all the Warriors, who was more social than the other Links, was relatively adept at grasping the melodrama of the atmosphere, knowing when to be quiet and when it was better to have a chat.

They all understood that the team was, with the exception of certain ones, clamshells that had come to life one by one. (Or maybe some of the outgoing ones are actually clamshells.) (Aha! A new way of flirting with oneself is born.)

Anyway, this is why Warriors wave his spoon smugly (like a tiny flag): "...... When we triumphed, the streets were filled with petals and ribbons, and people clustered in the streets and upstairs and on the rooftops, and though, trampled by the war, both the roads and the .. were somewhat depressed ...... Well! That part doesn't matter now!"Warriors stirs the soup and takes a small sip (any more and we won't be able to start a conversation today, Wild, the

boy's food is gaggingly good), "...brave soldiers walk the streets of Castle Town, their footsteps without the thunder of applause that rises up at the first moment, and my beloved Epona kicks and stomps (and here it's being torn apart by sunlight) down the stone streets, edged in gold, and the streets are filled with the most beautiful and beautiful things in the world.My beloved Epona was kicking and stomping along the stone streets edged in gold by the sunlight (glared at by a certain few here), flowers were thrown from all over the place to send blessings to the soldiers, and the fallen flowers covered the whole road, Aaannnnnd!Of course~ I received the most bouquets of flowers~ No matter which way I looked, the screams were like the rising of the tides that rose up and down, and went on and on and on~"

Warriors grunts and laughs as he speaks, lifting his bangs and skimming the ends of his hair.

Gee, he's always showing off his hormones that have nowhere to go.Legend smacked his lips on his spoon, the delicious food immediately soothing his prickly nerves caused by the teasing, but ......

Putting aside some of his "preconceptions", Warriors was indeed a strong general with leadership qualities, and under the circumstances, it was only natural that he would be welcomed to protect the people, lead the soldiers, gather the divided world, defeat Ganon, and bring safety to the people.With this in mind, Legend picked out the fruit in the soup and took a bite.Looks like he's popular, that's really good. Well, yummy.

(Wild has fine-tuned for everyone's tastes, the golden apple chunks added late in his bowl are soft, crunchy and sweet after micro-cooking, rich in flavor, he had asked for some seeds long ago, but Wild said that this golden apples are produced by probability,. Hummm, Legend who is the hottest apple supplier in Hylia and Loria' smiles but does not say anything.)

But ......Legend chewed another bite of apple chunks, looking at him like this is really unpleasant ah.Legend was disgusted by the image that appeared in his mind of Warriors riding horses and throwing flying kisses to stir up a cheering crowd of cold shivers, ah, can not think about it, a little stomach.[I'm not sure if this paragraph is translated correctly (because I read it myself as if something was wrong, but I don't know what went wrong).]

The Chef of Peace, who had been listening to the story since a moment ago and had somehow become a bit dazed, came back to his senses and looked at Legend, who was blushing a bit darkly, in puzzlement.

【If you want to know the full text, let me know, and maybe I'll translate it intermittently.】

Eggs①: (Three photos taken by Wind) (Price:?)

Confused by the first delivery of the bouquet

Link)

(Link, who was surrounded by civilians, gave flowers and scattered petals to celebrate shyness and cover his face)

(Link who was frightened by the enthusiasm of the people and hid in the Zelda King)

Eggs②:

A week later, another tea break.

Wars looked at Time, who was being chased and intercepted, and drank a cup of sweet and sour fruit tea contentedly.

Offensive and defensive potential is also different, sapling, soldiers are not tired of cheating, plan and then move, is also for the trick. (Completely strung together.)

Wind? Wind curled his lips as he held a small part of the empty cookie bag. Wars really held a grudge.

#legend of zelda #linked universe #loz link #lu legend #lu wild #lu warriors #lu chain #lu time #link #lu wind #lu fic #lu #loz #the legend of zelda

[charmwasjess]

6, 13 and 18 (Dooku) for the fandom ask, please :D

6) Show us a bit of a WIP!

:D You get the Sifo + Dooku + Time Travel Piece that I'm "definitely" "not" "writing." Some Asajj + 20 year old Dooku team-up nobody asked for. Especially not Asajj. -

Asajj studied him again, more appraisingly this time. He did look disconcertingly familiar.

Did Dooku have an heir that she’d never heard about? She’d clocked the boy as younger, what with all his naivete and whining, but now that she really looked at him… Nineteen? Maybe twenty years old? The age lined up disconcertingly well with Dooku’s first days as Count. A hereditary title, after all, passed from father to son. The idea of Dooku reproducing was nauseating, of course, though it was at least a little funny to imagine the former Jedi’s face upon being informed that House Serenno required his “gift” to ensure the bloodline’s survival.

But no. Why would House Serenno surrender an heir to the Jedi? She didn’t need to see the long braid to recognize that this was clearly one of their Padawan Learners; he reeked of a sheltered Temple upbringing. She could practically smell the refectory milk on his breath.

“Why do you want to be the one to kill Count Dooku so badly, anyway?” she asked, instead.

“He killed my best friend!” His voice broke on the word best, but his fury streaked, vibrant as a comet in the Force.

Asajj almost choked on her laugh. It was so melodramatic. Cliche. Like a line from an overwrought holonovel, spinning out in predictable plot hooks before her eyes. This Jedi child was pathetic. She ought to get them into space and send him to look for Dooku out the airlock. It seemed like it would save her and the Jedi both a lot of trouble.

She thought of her sisters.

Vengeance. Thick and sweet and tangy, like spoiled cream clinging to her tongue. It belonged to her, but no less to the others whose lives Dooku had crushed out for no better reason than because he could. She was here to glut on the Count’s blood. Who was she to deny this hungry child his own right to the feast? Dooku made a big corpse. There was plenty for all.

“Do you know how to sit down and shut up?” Asajj turned briskly to the ship controls. They had already wasted too much time.

“Yes.” A lie. She could tell that without even looking at him.

“Yes, what?” She prompted, glancing back. Maybe she just wanted to hear him try to call her “my lady” in that ridiculous, overformal Coruscanti accent of his.

He swallowed audibly, clearly uncertain. He glanced again at the twin lightsabers at her waist and seemed to decide. “Yes, Master.”

Asajj couldn't help the small, startled laugh that broke from her chest. That hadn’t been what she was expecting. No one had ever called her that. She felt surprised at the strength of her own reaction. Perhaps this would actually be amusing. At least, for a little while.

“What is your name?”

“My name?”

Asajj rolled her eyes. “You have a name? Or should I just refer to you as ‘idiot’?”

She watched his hesitation, saw those big, guileless brown eyes drift and refocus. Black fucking stars, he lied artlessly, like a child.

“Sifo-Dyas. My name is Sifo-Dyas.”

13)What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to some day?

I know I went backwards here writing the most unknown/unpopular character in the series with Sifo-Dyas to the most popular, but I'd really like to spend a little bit more time with Obi-Wan. He's got a large role in the next chapter of Twelves Months to Murder Count Dooku and I'm really excited. I really like the character. Kenobi changed something for me about him.

18) Type [charater]'s name and tell us what the autocomplete suggests as the next word

Lolol. "Dooku FOUGHT." "Dooku only" and "Dooku Nu" were other suggestions. Yeah, that really says it all. No notes, google.

#such a fun ask thank you so much Ant!!! #don't worry too much about Sifo-Dyas in the WIP he's just off playing with his clones #and Dooku fought Dooku only and Dooku Nu are my three main ways to write Dooku after all #answered asks #time travel au #why is that a tag I have now someone stop me

[steveinscarlet]

In celebration of Steve's birthday, here is a list of songs that were important to him. These are all songs that either he or Lorelei named as favourites of his, or that played a significant role in his life. I hoped this was going to turn out really happy, but our boy really liked sad songs so it's a bit of a mixture

@littlemissheavenonearth is trying to make an Apple music playlist that people can listen to, so will update if that happens

1) How many more times - Led Zeppelin

The song that inspired him to 'throw the classic guitar out the window' and pick up an electric

2) Free bird - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Steve's audition piece for Leppard

3) Heroes - David Bowie

A song about a love that can't last - I wonder who he had in mind when he listened to this?

4) Travelin' band - Creedence Clearwater Revival

A big John Fogerty fan, he once asked him for an autograph pretending it was for someone else rather than admit it was for himself

5) Under pressure - Queen & David Bowie

This one didn't come with an explanation, but it's maybe obvious why he liked it

6) Where have all the good times gone - The Kinks

🙁

7) Goodness gracious me - Peter Sellers & Sophia Loren

A silly song that he would sing as a duet with Lorelei - he loved doing funny voices

8) Because the night - Patti Smith Group

Aw, he's a hopeless romantic

9) Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence - Ryuichi Sakamoto

He collected soundtracks and hoped to compose for film and theatre after Leppard's popularity waned

10) Wonderland - Big Country

Steve really related to the lyrics of this song. I think it speaks to his troubles, but also his hopes for a better future. And you will take my hand, And be with me in wonderland

#I have a playlist that has most of these on it and the first time I listened through it i was like #you really put your whole heart out there didnt you baby boy #steve clark #happy steve day #Youtube

[childofhypno]

just some thoughts from sherlock and co. Mailbag episode

honestly I did this to myself and at 3am no less.

In an mailbag episode on the sherlock and co. patreon, answering a question on their favorite musicals, John answered Les Misèrables. And being the romantic we know our loveable doctor to be, I was perusing the songs from the 2013 movie album and came across On My Own.

Sung by Èpoine about her unrequited love for Marius. And that is sad in its own regard, there's a reason it's one of the musicals most popular songs and Samantha Barks does a great job of that crushing emotional weight of being so wrapped in someone, so ultimately dazzled by them and wanting to be near them. But knowing they will not look at you the same, will not place the same value on the time and proximity you share. And that is not their fault and it is hard to love someone and desire to be close and yet have them be the source of your greatest pain and rejection, even though they may wish you no harm.

It's been hinted at and out right stated (by Sherlock) that John wants to be liked. And given what we've heard about John's last relationship (the one whereby he gained ownership of Archie after the split) and perhaps some insecurities there, insecurities in his own capabilities, comparing himself to others, its understandable to read John as something of an insecure man. Not in a toxic manner but John definitely has a lot of self doubts about himself and his place in the world and what he can offer to others. Despite him so naturally being able to attune to people and their needs and being quite bloody smart and intuitive. All round just a decent person.

And John, as much as anyone, marvels at Sherlock Holmes. This almost mythical figure. John admires Sherlock and maybe envies him on some level. I think not in Sherlock's deduction skills or specific knowledge skillsets but maybe in Sherlock's apparent surety in himself and where he is in life and what he wants from it. Sherlock is plainly himself, even if it means not "fitting in " John often tries to mould himself to what others might like, and hey, as a people pleaser, oh boy do I understand that. Almost becomes like muscle memory.

Sherlock in turn, I think admires John's social prowess. His ability to express the complexity of emotions. Just because someone doesn't emote the typical way doesn't mean they don't feel the emotions. And that can be incredibly frustrating when you want to communicate with others. Sherlock cares about people. He's interested in people. And he can't always express or connect with them in the way he wants. Like a language barrier he mentioned in another mailbag episode. That is why Sherlock and John work. They draw out in each other and supplement for the qualities they lack or yearn to have more of. They're a balancing act. A good one. And I'm not the first to point that out.

All this to say, imagine when that act is separated. The Fall. Grown so comfortable to have the other's support, always by each others side and then, suddenly the other person isn't there. And you have to remember how you functioned without them before. But you can't go back. You're not the same person you were. But if they aren't there to remind you, to encourage you, it's easy to fall back into old habits.

And so the song. On My Own. From John's perspective, watching the man the myth the dazzling legend that is Sherlock Holmes, getting swept up in the adventures, feeling totally out of place but thrilled be along for the ride, participating, maybe growing in confidence all because of coincidental flat share with possibly the most brilliant and bizzare man he's ever met. The world is changing for John Watson. And Sherlock is seemingly at the center of it all. He's found purpose. Friends. A home. Maybe more. But John is as fallible in his assumptions as any of us are. And Sherlock appears to have no interest in such relationships and John, not confident enough to make the first move. So he can daydream. Of what it would be like to be with Sherlock. And what it would be like be without Sherlock.

And then the Fall. And he truly is without Sherlock and his world has dulled and greyed and blurred. The city has lost its glimmer. The flat is quiet. The words are meaningless. And John sits with his what ifs.

Don't think of John hearing this song. Of the heartbreak of knowing that you can ever be with the one you love. And knowing that taste of what brilliant technicolours the world is when you were with them, full of stimulating twinkling lights. And thinking it could never be that way again. Don't imagine John, sat in the flat, in the achingly quiet flat, as a woman sings for her never was love, head in his hands, Archie resting his head on John's knee. Don't think of John cursing himself for not being sure enough to tell Sherlock how he felt, for not being good enough again to save his friend. Don't think of John Watson, once again, on his own.

#sherlock and co #sherlock and co. #sherlock & co #sherlock homes #john watson #I just have a lot of feelings about these two okay? #I dunno if I expressed myself well but here we are #jonklock