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#I’m just uncoordinated
caterpillarinacave · 2 months
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let me guess: did it do the dumb glitch thing where you mix up the "follow" and "ask" buttons (i know you're logging off rn so feel free to don't answer this until tomorrow morning)
yeah pretty much. What technically happened was I was looking at my “activity” like so:
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And hit “unfollow” with my thumb with I tried to hit my menu. My bad.
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grahamcore · 1 year
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if and when the tomgreg sex scene happens it will not be hot in the slightest but rather will feel akin to seeing an awful car wreck and for some reason being unable to look away
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jammerskrik · 8 months
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presidentquinn · 1 year
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Every time someone reduces dyspraxia to bad motor skills and completely ignores the mental effects that are equally or arguably even harder to deal with, I am allowed to commit one(1) crime.
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flamingostalker · 19 days
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Big Important Lunch being catered and there’s a wild mix of staff in there and it’s all individual tables and things. Took one look in the gym and felt the same anxiety I imagine my ancestors felt at being confronted by a pack of multiple bears and lions working together somehow
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rude that i can’t send tiktoks to people who don’t follow me… i just want to send lando norris a video about not wearing skinny jeans, this is beneficial to him LET ME SEND IT TO HIM!!!!
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biqinsu · 2 years
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no thoughts just modern twin jades sitting down together with a bottle of wine and getting fabulously drunk after one glass each
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poltergeist-coffee · 9 months
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THE EGGS PERFORMING DRAGON DANCES!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW CUTE THAT WOUDL BE?!!!!!!!
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haaawaiianshirt · 2 years
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ROB;;IN G.,RABB:ING NNANCYS H;HAND CAUSE SH;ES SCAR:ED S;;HE’LL FFALL
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ittybittylilthing · 2 years
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I’ve always wanted to be a ballet dancer
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caterpillarinacave · 2 months
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“Oh, you’ll fall” Thelma replied nonchalantly, as if that was somehow comforting “Quite embarrassingly, probably. And quite painfully at least a few times.”
“Ah. Well. ” Matthew cleared his throat uncomfortably, the mild sense of impending doom steadily building. “I suppose we best be going then?” 
Thelma smiled up at him, a darling sort of smile, the type that lit up half the room, so genuinely happy that Matthew decided whatever happened in the next hour - no matter how disastrous and or embarrassing - it would be worth it for that smile on his sister’s face.
-Post TLH WIP Snippet
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c-nan · 7 months
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i have a spanish oral exam tomorrow i didn’t practice for wish me luck 😭
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chxrryhansen · 3 months
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okay but rafe shamelessly peeking up your skirt is something so personal to me
omg omg wait s1 golf frat boy rafe x cutesy kinda bimbo reader??? COUNT ME IN. p.s- i have no idea how to play golf so i wrote my best interpretation😭
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
you sat in rafes private golf caddy watching as he lined up his next shot, his backwards cap keeping his hair out of his eyes and his muscular legs spread wide as he takes the shot.
rafe had asked (told) you to come watch him play, he thought it would be a cute date idea for you both to get out of the house since it was way too hot to stay cooped up inside all day… when in reality he just wanted to show off his skills and impress his girl.
“rafeeeeey.” you whined in a high pitch tone.
he turns to look back at you with a sour expression, wiping the sweat from his brows with one arm, using the other to lean against his golf club. “quit distracting me. what dya’ want?” he pants in the summer heat.
“i’m boreddddd” you moan again, standing from your seat in the cabby and bouncing over to him.
his free hand reaches out to grip your face, smushing your cheeks together tight “what’ve i told you about the whining? daddy’s tryna’ play a game here, sweetcheeks.”
you look up at him with big puppy dog eyes “can you teach me? please rafey…i’m so bored just sittin’ here, daddy please.”
he lets out an irritated groan, knowing you were too ditzy to understand how golf works and way too uncoordinated to actually putt a ball. he looks back at you giving you a once over, a smirk appearing on his face.
“you know what? sure pretty girl, c’mere.”
you yelp with excitement, moving to stand infront of him, your short pink skirt barely reaching your thighs as you bounce over and your tits jiggling, practically spilling out of your tight shirt.
rafe stands behind you as he passes you the golf club, quickly showing you the correct way to hold it before he moves onto your position. kicking your feet apart and pressing down on your back with his thick fingers, forcing you to arch your back as he bites his lip, his cock already growing hard.
“that’s it baby, stay just like that. now, lift your arm up like this, and strike.” you beam at him while he instructs you before focusing on the ball.
you raise your arm holding the club tight before you strike it. not even noticing rafe bending down slightly, his legs still spread wide around your figure and his fingers lifting your short skirt, peeking at your cute, pink panties underneath, he lets out a low “fuckkk.” at the sight, not loud enough for you to notice seeming as you were concentrating.
“rafey! look! i hit it. look how far it went!” you gasp, raising one arm to block the sun as you search for the ball with your eyes.
“yeah babe, daddy’s super proud of you.” he mutters, not paying attention to a word you said, instead focusing on the slightly damp patch on your panties.
he brings his thumb to your pussy, rubbing over the soaked material. your panties beginning to stick to your cunt as he thumbs your sensitive slit.
you whimper in surprise, your head spinning to look at him in shock. “daddy! wh-what are you doing?!” you hush, eyes wide, looking around quickly to see if anybody had noticed what he was doing, which they hadn’t… yet.
rafe hushes you before pulling your skirt back down and giving your ass a harsh smack. lifting up from his bent knees and looking down at you with a large smirk.
“nice panties, baby. where’d you get em?” he asks rhetorically, a sly smile appearing on his face.
knowing for a fine fact he bought them, as he does everything else, your clothes, food, shoes. you name it, he bought it. because that’s what wealthy daddy’s like him do. and rafe is without question, wholeheartedly, your daddy.
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shatteredsnail · 1 year
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i’m incapable of doing things casually and i entirely blame being in competitive performance sports for like 12 years
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
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𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝
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Summary: . . . you're drunk off your ass and your boyfriend, Eddie Munson, has to chase you down. that's it.
𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐥, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
“Eddddiiiiee,” you whined, trying to break out of the iron hold around your waist but no matter how much you pulled on your boyfriend’s arms, he wouldn’t release you.
  “Baaaaaby!” He mocked, arms tightening around you as he pulled your back to his chest, eyes searching through the crowd to see if Harrington had gathered the rest of your rag tag group of friends.
  The lot of you had been invited to a rager thrown by one of Argyle’s friends. You’d also neglected to mention to Eddie that you’d magically forgotten to eat more than a party sized bag of chips the entire day, so with three shots and a couple of strong mixed drinks in you, you were drunk. Very, sloppily, adorably drunk.
  Eddie followed you around when you became impatient with him, huffing and puffing anytime you saw him because you knew he’d prevent you from getting more drunk—sure enough, he’d swoop in and take away any bottle, cup or drink you’d get your hands on.
  He had made one crucial mistake though, having decided you were done for the night and with Robin throwing up a bright blue liquid—it was time to go. Eddie had had a twelve second conversation with Steve in which he would go and find Jonathan and Nancy, taking Robin with him.
  When Eddie turned back to you, you were hastily shoving something in your mouth, something small enough to be concealed between your fingers.
  “No, no, no!” He rushed over, taking your face in a hand and gently squeezing your cheeks to try to get you to open your mouth but it was too late, whatever pill it was, you had already swallowed, “Baby, what did you just put in your mouth?”
  You giggled, pleased to be causing him a little trouble and made kissy faces at him instead of answering. 
  He sighed, wrapping his arms around you while he glared at everyone else.
  Speed. Where the fuck did you even get it???
  And that’s how you found yourself imprisoned in his arms, patience once more dwindling due to the cotton candy haze of your mind and the energy filling your body. 
  Eddie could feel your jitters and chanced a glance down at your shoes to confirm they hadn’t magically transformed into a pair of sneakers you could run off in. He’d made it a rule you couldn’t wear a pair if you’d be drinking (yeah, this wasn’t the first time you’d try to flee from him, drunk off your ass, and no, you didn’t do it all the time), and he was relieved the pair of short heels were still in place.
  “Please, can you let me go?” You craned your neck back to pout up at him, eyes big as you peered at him from under your lashes.
  You were too fucking cute for your own good.
  The answer to your question was still no, he’d never let you go but you wouldn’t like that answer right now, so instead he said, “As soon as we’re home, sweet thing.”
  That was not the answer you wanted to hear, either, and you scowled, slouching back into him as you glared at nothing.
  Eddie was pleased when Steve, Nancy and Jonathan (carrying a passed out Robin over his shoulder) appeared in the crowd, making their way towards the pair of you.
  When they got close, Nancy tripped and Eddie dove forward to catch her before she could meet the ground.
  “Whoa, Wheeler!” He laughed as he helped her rise and steady, “Forgot how uncoordinated you are with some liquor in you.”
  “The sad thing is I’m not even that drunk,” She admitted, grateful she hadn’t been subjected to the stickiness of the floor.
  “Thanks Eddie,” Jonathan shifted Robin a little over his shoulder, trying not to touch her too much since she was prone to having physical reactions and he didn’t want to be punched in the face, “Can we leave now?”
  “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
  Eddie turned back to you, ready to throw you over his shoulder if he needed to and his mouth dropped open, eyes widening when the spot you’d occupied, literally not even 10 inches away, was empty.
  Well, not completely. 
  The group looked down at the floor to see your heels left behind.
  Eddie’s head darted towards the front door just in time to see you escape out of it.
  “Oh, shit, not again!”
  Eddie swooped up your heels and ran after you, bashing into bodies on the way before he finally made it out of the doorway to see you sprinting across the lawn, your laughter ringing in the night air and he quickly gave chase.
  “BABY! BABY, STOP!”
  You didn’t stop, having the time of your life as the need to flee from him became more urgent. It wasn’t anything personal, it was just nice to feel like the main character having a little silly, goofy moment and you wouldn’t feel silly and goofy when your boyfriend would be having you drink a ton of water to flush the fun from your system!
  “No, I’m fast! Gotta go!” You called over your shoulder, still laughing as you met the asphalt of the street, lungs and legs doing a surprisingly good job at keeping you going and ahead of him.
  Eddie kept going too, though he felt the burn of it, chest already heaving but he feared where your drunk ass could possibly end up if he gave up and stopped.
  “BABY, I AM BEGGING YOU, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, STOP RUNNING!”
  He chased you down several streets, through lawns— apparently you were suddenly good at parkour, jumping over children’s toys and playsets he crashed into—and just when he was finally beginning to think you’d never stop, you started to slow.
  Not because you wanted to stop the game or anything, you’d just spent your time running away from your boyfriend thinking about how cute he was. And so sweet and good to you. You longed for him. He always took care of you—drunk or not—gave you tons of smooches, held you whenever you were near, went in search of you when you weren’t, peppered your face in kisses like Pepe Le Pew did to that cat he was always chasing around in the Looney Tunes cartoons and professing his love for you in a shitty French accent, and he always cuddled with you, giving you head scratchies while the two of you lay in bed.
  WAIT.
  You’d get cuddles, kisses and head scratchies tonight!!!!!
  You’d slowed in your thought process, and suddenly you’d gone from eager to get away from Eddie for no real reason, to desperate to be in his arms so you turned around and ran towards him.
  Eddie hadn’t been expecting that, the two of you collided, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you from toppling over.
  See??? You knew he’d hold you.
  “Gandalf the freaking Grey, baby, you are trouble and too damn fast,” he heaved out, arms tightening as he smashed you to his chest for a tight hug, the hand not clutching your heel straps cradling the back of your head. Eddie was relieved to have you safe in his arms again.
  “I’m fast as fuck, I’m a track star,” you chirped, nuzzling happily into the crook of his neck and making it hard for him to be even a little upset with you.
  “No you’re not and no more running,” You made a sound of surprise as he quite literally swept you off your feet and carried you back to the house party you fled from, bridal style.
  You didn’t fight him, keen on pressing kisses to his neck, pretty face and just about anywhere your lips could reach.
  Halfway there, you ran into Steve and Jonathan practically limping. Both were heaving and covered in sweat, the front of their shirts stained dark with it.
  “Oh, thank god! No more running. My side hurts, I think I popped something.” Steve said between gaps of panting.
  Jonathan couldn’t even speak, the poor guy looked like he was ready to collapse.
  “Where are the girls?”
  “On. Front. Lawn.” Jonathan finally wheezed out, they’d left Robin snoozing in Nancy’s lap on the lawn while they ran to help (but not really) Eddie catch you.
  When you were finally home, squeaky clean after a shared shower with Eddie—you still seemed to have enough energy for one due to your high, though the alcohol was making you a little sleepy—and you were in bed, curled into him with your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as his fingers massaged your scalp and nearly put you in a coma, he mumbled, “You little shit.”
  You giggled, eyes still shut as his chest shook beneath you with his own chuckles.
  “You still love me?”
  “Always,” Then, after a brief and comfortable silence, “Baby, you should’ve been on the track team.”
  “Mmm, I don’t really like running.”
  And again, “You little shit!”
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hoeforalbedo · 3 months
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Dolly (Pt 2)
Human Alastor x Housewife!Reader
Pt 1, Finale
Tw: Murder, Forced Cannibalism, reader is described as a woman, dumbifying reader, mention of pregnancy, pregnancy.
Note: I guess I’m making this a series? I really want them to meet in hell. Also I really haven’t made it obvious bc I don’t want to erase Alastor being aroace. The way I see it, he’s kinda just toying with reader and grew obsessed once reader became a murderer.
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The morning after your delightful meal, you found yourself puking your guts out. The food did not agree with you at all. You wonder how Alastor’s body did not reject your food. Maybe it was all guilty’s conscience, but you’re not guilty for what you did.
Alastor holds your hair back, rubbing small circles on your back. “Oh my, what a way to start the morning. It makes me wonder if you’re perhaps pregnant.”
You shoot him a look, “Please do not say that, I beg of you.” No, you’re not pregnant, and Alastor knows you’re not pregnant. But if you are. . . That means you’re all to himself. You will have no choice but to depend on him even more. Even if you decided one day to leave him, you can’t. Nobody other man wants a tainted woman with children. Maybe one day he should get you pregnant.
Oh he absolutely knows that his dear wife has committed something awful and he’s proud of you, although he won’t admit it, yet. For now, he’s here to support you through the aftermath of your actions.
He could even recall his first kill, it was messy and uncoordinated, and the gore did not sit right with his stomach. But he hopes that his wife does not meddle in the business no longer. All you must do is sit pretty and be the doll you are. The sweet wife who cleans the house and cooks for him and cares for him dearly while being oblivious to the fact that your husband is out and about, killing many people.
But he’s curious. You might be just like him and the thought of that makes him want to grasp you in his hands tightly. To keep you all to himself and keep you away from anything that could take you away from him. At the same time, he wants to test you, push you further into insanity until there’s no more turning back and you’re addicted to the feeling of blood on your hands.
You’ve made a decision, you’re going to confess to Alastor. You can’t just keep him the dark about what you’ve done. “Alastor dear, so about Linda. . . I’ve. . .”
“No need to say more, ma cheri. I know.” He says, acting sympathetic towards you. He pulls you into a hug and you can’t help but burst into tears. He pats
“My dear, you’ve had such a bad morning so I believe you should go out and treat your pretty self with something,” He hums, combing your hair back.
“But-“
“I insist dear. Allow me to tend to the home and when you get back, you’ll be treated to a nice meal. How does that sound?”
Your lips pursed in thought. “Fine, but only because you insist.”
The phone rings.
“I’ll take that, mon cheri. Now I’ll allow you to get yourself all pretty and I’ll get you some money for you to spend.” He kisses your head and leaves you be.
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An outing is just what you needed, although it was not to relieve your nerves. You only felt guilt for having stained your hands with red. That matters not, anymore. Alastor says to relax and enjoy your outing and that is what you’d do.
Now that you’re out, Alastor prepares to go out. He puts his gloves, “I should prepare a freshly cooked meal for my dear wife. It’s about time I went hunting.” He hums to himself and leaves the house.
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The sound of chopping is heard through the kitchen. Chopped vegetables are put aside and Alastor is seen kneading a sort of meat. After he’s satisfied, he chops the meat and sets it aside.
“Let us see,” He says, squatting down to the body by the kitchen island. He reaches inside the abdomen, a squelch being heard as his hands move deeper. “Ah, there it is!” He says cheerfully as he cuts out the intestines.
After squeezing the contents out of the intestines, he looks up at the clock. “Oh dear me! It’s about time my dear Y/N comes home!”
It’s already 5 and he expects you to be home in about an hour.
He continues to grind away the other organs and meat before stuffing the intestines, making the sausages for the jambalaya.
After an hour has passed, you are back home. As you were about to reach for the handle, the door opened, revealing Alastor. “Welcome home ma cheri!” He greets you with a smile, pulling you in for a hug. You reciprocate and kisses his cheek. “What have you got there?” He asks, motioning to the bags.”
“Oh I’ve only bought a few dresses. Nothing out of the ordinary,” You shrug, putting the bags down.
“Then I should expect a show from you then, is that correct? Give me a little twirl in each dress?” His voice deepens as he tilts your head up to look at him.
“If that’s what my dear husband wants,” You say, almost as if you’re purring.
Alastor hums in approval and pulls your lips into a kiss. His arm around your waist, pulls you in, pressing your body against his. “Oh my pretty doll, you’ve got me all distracted.”
“And it is my fault?” She chuckles.
“Yes dear, it’s your fault for being so gorgeous, however I cannot complain about that. Come now, I’ve made jambalaya. Let us eat before it gets cold.”
You follow him immediately to the dining room. “How I love jambalaya. I’m grateful you’ve introduced me to one of your favorites.” You smile as you sat down. “You didn’t put shrimp?” You ask.
“I’ve decided to add some meat instead,” Alastor says, placing some food on your plate.
“Well anything you cook is delicious. I’ll enjoy every bite!” You beam.
The two of you continue to eat and chat. While doing the dishes, the door bell rings. “I wonder who that might be?” You say confused, not expecting any visitors.
Alastor goes to the front door and opens it with a smile. “Hello, how can I help you fine gentlemen?”
“We’re with the police, I’d just like to ask about your neighbors.” One of the officers say.
“Well of course!” Alastor remains to smile, however he is irritated, not that anyone notices.
“Who is it Alastor, dear?” You say, walking behind him. “Oh! Well hello officer!” You immediately put a bright smile. Alastor wraps an arm around your waist.
“Yes, you must be this fine gentleman’s wife. We’d just like to ask if you folks know anything about Mrs. Linda and perhaps Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.
“Connor? Well what could have possibly gone wrong?” Alastor says in confusion.
“Well officer, last night we got a call from dear Connor and just earlier before that, I believe during the afternoon, Linda paid me a small visit,” You answer.
“Is that so? Well ma’am, did she enter the home?”
“Yes she did. Just for a couple minutes though.”
“Anything in particular happened? Arguments, anything?” The officer pushes on.
“Oh of course not! Linda and I may only be acquaintances but I do not harbor such ill feelings for her.”
Alastor squeezes your waist, “You see, my dear wife is far too good for her own good. Far too oblivious to the world, but who can blame her. She’s a doll after all.”
You smile at the officers, looking very innocent.
“Why, I see why you married such a beautiful lady,” The officers chuckles. “Well did she say anything before she left?
“No sir. . . Well she did complain about how she suspects her husband of have a mistress,” You answer.
Alastor adds, “The couple do tend to have a tendency for infidelity. There’s neighborhood rumors of one of the kids not even being Connors’! It’s no surprise though. They say Linda sleeps with other men.”
You gasp, “You mean that man she was with that one day-!”
“Oh no need to worry your pretty little head about it. That is not our problem,” Alastor says.
“And the call you received from Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.
“Oh he just called to thank my dear wife for her generosity. She was kind enough to bake the family a pie. She’s a rather good cook,” Alastor answers with a smile.
“Well you see, both of the couples are missing and have left their kids unattended.”
“Oh that’s awful! Are they okay?” You ask with worry.
“They sure are. If you happen to hear anything about them, please do give a call, thanks for your time,” The officer nods and leaves.
After Alastor closes the door, you immediately broke into a sob. “They’re out to get me Alastor! They’ll get me!” You cling to him.
“My dear you won’t, I promise you they won’t. I’d do anything,” Alastor says in a hushed voice.
“I-I’m the last to have seen Linda and Connor! Now Connor is gone too! What if they think I am the one who killed him!” You cry hysterically.
“My dear, have you not seen yourself? No one would believe that a small thing like you could have possibly killed someone,” he reasons.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course dear.”
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“Must you really go, Alastor?” You plead, grabbing his hand.
“I’m afraid I cannot skip out on work today, mon cheri. But what if they get me? What if I can’t see you again?” You say with worry.
Alastor chuckles. Your clinginess used to be something that annoyed him but not finds adorable. “Remember what I said last night?”
You nod.
“So you’ll let me go right?”
You nod and let go of his hand.
“Good. Now I’ll be back later, my dear.” He kisses your forehead and walks out the door.
He in fact did not come home that night. He was found dead, a bullet to his head. You never landed on the suspect list, as Alastor was found to be the serial killer of New Orleans.
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