#*gross smooching noises*

[elizakai]

LOOK AWAY, GIVE THEM PRIVACY-

#WHY ARE YOU STARING AT THEM LEAVE THEM ALONE :( #utmv #ut au #Traditional scribbles #undertale #Sans aus #horrortale #horror sans #dusttale #dust sans #murder sans #horrordust #bad sanses #Horror x dust #or not 🤷🏽‍♀️ #Guys dust is just really happy I promise #His brother told him he loved him guys he’s so happy and healthy rn #LEAVE HIM ALONE HES FINE- #Big horror >:) #Honestly dust is soooo mentally stable and great and healthy that horror should just like- date me instead?? #Hahaha like dust doesn’t need him PFT wdym #Horror cmere bbg #*gross smooching noises* #…gn #My art

[midnight-vixn]

So I love being bit during sex, what do you think the brothers are like about biting? Who would like to bite where and how much? Who's got some nice sharp fangs? Would they pull you into a quick make out session just to mark you up if they felt possessive? Idk just biting in general is so hot

Oooooooooh anon you beautiful creature, a thousand smooches for you!!! I LOVE biting, and our boys do too ;) I’m gonna include all the brothers on this one, I may do the dateables too in a different post if there’s interest! Dateables found here

Love Bites

Lucifer:

The prideful first born isn’t typically prone to biting but absolutely will if it gets you to make that sultry noise again. Lucifer bites gently but in a way that makes you feel owned! Normally biting on your inner thighs or low on your collar bone so it can be covered by clothing, he can’t have the gossips at RAD Asmodeus talking about you covered in his marks all day. Then again, if his brothers piss him off, are taking up too much of your time and preventing him from spending quality time with you? He absolutely will leave visible marks, just to remind them who you belong to.

Mammon:

Listen, Mams loves to be bitten. But only by you. He’s the second highest ranking whore in the house after all, but he’s your whore. He never really cared for it before you came along, but the moment you bit down on his neck during one particularly hot make out session…his whole world changed. Mammon has the perfect set of fangs that send you half way to the celestial realm when he lightly scrapes them across the skin on your neck right before he leaves a massive hickey. Our greedy boy has also been known to pull you into an impromptu make out sesh in a fit of jealousy because some lower demon was looking at you a little too long or talking to you a little to sweetly. All areas are fair game when Mammon starts biting, but his favorite spots are your thighs, chest, lower stomach and of course neck so everyone can see his fang marks.

Leviathan:

Poor Levi is normally too scared to bite, full of “What if I hurt you?” “What if I do it wrong?” “What if you think it’s gross after I do it?” The best way to shut him up? Bite him on the side of his neck. The result will be the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard the little weeb make…along with the brightest red blush. Eventually Levi will gain the confidence to bite you back and once he does he’s very gentle with it, applying just enough pressure to qualify as a bite but not enough to possibly hurt you. He’s too new to the whole thing to really have a favorite place to bite you but on him? Uh, totally not a gentle little nibble on his ear, that does uh, nothing for him…what a normie thing to ask…

Satan:

Satan has always loved to play fight/wrestle with you in that cute way that couples do in his romance novels, rolling around on the bed laughing at each other, but he never expected you to playfully bite him…and he never expected to moan like that either. Satan bites softly and whispers how much he loves you as he does it, even when he does bite hard during sex he’s constantly praising you and telling you how much you mean to him. Satan adores biting up and down your legs and arms, gently biting at your wrists before places kisses on the palm of your hands. He also loves when you bite his shoulders and stomach, he secretly loves to rile you up until you’re annoyed or slightly angry so you’ll bite harder, the sensation from your bite paired with you indulging in his sin a little makes his head dizzy.

Asmodeus:

The queen himself loves to bite and be bitten but ONLY in the areas that feel good, unless of course this is a punishment~~ Asmo considers sex a work of art and you are his stunning blank canvas, perfect for sinking his fangs into. He loves every inch of you but really enjoys biting those spots that make you writhe against the mattress and if those spots are easy access during a make out then you bet they’re fair game even when in public.

Beelzebub:

Our gentle giant usually bites on complete accident, getting carried away while kissing your soft lips or caught up in the way you feel as he rails you into the mattress. Beel is prone biting at your lips, the first time is usually a mistake but then he’ll do it on purpose, gently pulling and sucking at your puffy lip. He’s also known to bite down on your shoulder/neck while fucking you, between the sharp sting of his thick fangs in your skin and the deep grunts filling your ear you have to grab the bed/pillow/headboard or nearest object to ground yourself. Beel thinks it’s cute when you bite him, it doesn’t hurt but it definitely makes him feel something with how quick he is to pin you down after.

Belphegor:

In true brat fashion Belphie bites at any given time. The two of you are cuddling and you’re texting a brother for too long? Bite. You guys are sitting in class and you move making him lose his comfy headrest? Bite. Never tell him to bite your ass…he’ll do it. In fact, he actually likes doing it because he loves how you react be it annoyed, pissed off or horny. If you into biting and bite back then making out usually ends up with you two sloppily kissing and biting each other’s necks, biting a little harder each time just to see how much pain the other can take, before getting handsy and taking things to the bedroom.

#obey me smut #obey me lucifer smut #obey me mammon smut #obey me beelzebub smut #obey me satan smut #obey me leviathan smut #obey me asmo smut #obey me belphegor smut #midnight thirsts

[jaytriesstrangerthings]

Not Sick Fic

744 words of Eddie not being sick and Steve not finding him endearing.

---

“I’m not sick,” Eddie argues, punctuating his argument with an aggressive sneeze followed by harsh hacking.

“Are you holding a loogie in your mouth right now?” Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head in what the Party has taken to calling his Mom Stance (trademark pending).

In a disgusting display of defiance, Eddie swallows. “No.” 

There’s a glob of neon yellow snot dripping from Eddie’s left nostril that he drags his crusty sweatshirt sleeve across before snorting up another drip of snot coming from the right side this time. 

“You are…” Steve sighs, exasperated, “so gross.”

The furrowed brows and grumpy pout paired with Eddie’s pink nose and puffy eyes could almost be considered cute if Steve hadn’t just witnessed him swallow a loogie.

“How the hell did I fall in love with you?”

Steve knows exactly how it happened. He could write a library’s worth of books about all the things he loves about Eddie Munson. That doesn’t change the fact that Eddie absolutely refuses to admit that he’s sick and is being very gross about proving his health.

“Because I’m so totally handsome and I can do cool guitar stuff.” His voice is scratchy and nasally and Steve can tell he’s trying very hard not to sniffle or cough. “And I’m super rich on account of the cool guitar stuff.” Eddie bats his thick black eyelashes and flashes a big bright toothy smile in Steve’s direction. It’s usually quite charming but the new bead of snot dripping towards Eddie’s upper lip causes his charisma to take a hit. “Gimme a smooch.”

Eddie sniffles harshly, sucking the snot glob back into his nose. He leans in, lips puckered up and chapped from extended forced mouth breathing, eyes squeezed shut. Steve reaches out a hand to stop Eddie from falling when he continues to lean forward. 

“You’re cute,” Steve admits, pushing Eddie back to balance on his own feet, “You’re also sick.”

“‘m not,” Eddie pouts again, opening his eyes and glaring at Steve.

Yes he is. Eddie is very sick. His nose is running a marathon and Steve could hear the congestion from a mile away. He’s running a 102 degree fahrenheit fever and shivering like a chihuahua on a sugar high. His eyes are red and puffy and his eye bags have eye bags. He’s sneezing and coughing and if the way he frequently grimaces and groans is any indication he’s nauseous too. 

It’s wild to Steve, how easily Eddie tends to ignore his own health and well-being. He’s going to work himself to an early grave and take Steve with him. It’s frankly astonishing how long Eddie’s made it and Steve is half convinced that Death is simply scared of Eddie. It wouldn’t be surprising. Eddie is absolutely horrifying when he wants to be. And also sometimes when he doesn’t mean to be. 

“Just lay down in bed, Eds. You’ll get better sooner if you rest.”

“Don’t need rest, ‘m not sick.” Eddie makes a noise like he might throw up if either of them make a wrong move. He clears his throat when the feeling seemingly passes. “Gotta finish planning out the next session for when the Party comes to visit next week and then work on some acous- acousti- ACHOO!” Eddie sneezes and a snot rocket launches toward Steve in a majestic arch of green and yellow nasal mucus. Steve, luckily, manages to move out of the way and not be hit by the bio weapon. 

“Did you just say “achoo” as you sneezed?” 

“I didn’t sneeze,” Eddie says, like a lying liar who lies.

Steve looks from Eddie to the small puddle of snot on the floor. “What’s that then?”

Eddie scoffs a couple of times, searching for a reasonable answer. His brain isn’t working at full capacity, which is reasonable considering he’s very sick, despite his resolute denial. “Science project.” 

Eddie lives and breathes gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, Steve will give him that, but Steve has mastered manipulate, mansplain, malewife. Especially that malewife bit. If the government ever comes around to letting Eddie put a ring on it Steve would make a wonderful trophy wife. 

“Yeah? What’s the hypothesis?” That’s right, Steve knows science words. He may be a certified Ken but he’s not stupid. Eddie, of course, is a Barbie, but that was never really a question.

“It’s about projectile paths and stuff.”

Steve cannot believe how endearing Eddie is even when he’s being this gross.

---

#steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #steddie #sick fic #eddie doesn't get sick like ever #sometimes he does science experiment though

[divine-misfortune]

Mushy May, day 6. "You're blushing"

Rating: M

Pairing: Swiss/Dewdrop

Words: 1,155

Summary: A morning like any other, and Swiss just really loves Dew.

Contains: Nothing explicit - just Dew getting sorta turned on. Swiss being gross and lovely dovey.

As always 1000 smooches to @forlorn-crows for all of this <333

Pay no attention to what date anything is posted on anymore

Behind him the bathroom door creaked. Nudged open by a bleary eyed, disheveled multi ghoul. None of his locs remained contained within the elastic Swiss had drawn them into the night before, all in varying states of untamed with minds of their own. He shuffled his way towards the shower, mouth falling open to reveal oversized fangs as he yawned, idly scratching at his bare stomach. 

Dew watched the way he moved, practically on autopilot in the still foggy edges of the mirror. Still yet to even acknowledge his existence in the room at all, likely because his eyes were barely open enough to see what was in front of him, and Dew didn't have the heart - or the balls to break him from his sleepy stupor. Swiss was, for all intents and purposes, a bear in the morning. Waking him was treacherous. But also he looked kinda cute when he was tired like this. A dangerous teddy bear. 

His eyebrows raised minutely as he caught a glimpse of the deep red welts raked down Swiss’ back when Swiss bent at the waist to fuss with the old stubborn faucet. He winced sympathetically and glanced down at his hand, mentally noting to file down his claws at some point lest he maul another poor unsuspecting victim. Swiss hardly seemed bothered by the battle scars as he braced his hands on his lower back to stretch. Dew tipped his head, morning routine momentarily forgotten when Swiss let out a low half purr-half groan of satisfaction. The sound itself was innocent in nature but still managed to kickstart something hot in his gut but the sway of his tail and the second full bodied yawn of the morning did something far worse to Dew. Warmth deep in the confines of his ribs and an unwilling curl to his lips, Dew exhaled fondly. Endeared and amused by the sheer act of being him. 

The small space grew warmer as the shower began to heat up, trickling water white noise as Swiss puttered back and forth aimlessly gathering his things with a practiced ease. 

Dew remembered a time where Swiss shifted uncomfortably at the prospect of moving some of his things into Dew's bathroom - afraid of intruding, of taking up space in places he claimed weren't his but Dew had laughed at his initial nervousness. Places that weren't his, as if he didn't wake up in Dew's bed most mornings, as if his sheets didn't carry the rich smokey scent of the multi ghoul even in his absence. That bed was Swiss’ as much as it was his. Arguing his point with Dew was a waste of breath, he'd already emptied out the drawer for his things long before the conversation happened. Now Swiss rummaged through the bathroom like it had always been his. 

“Hey cinder…” 

Swiss sagged against him abruptly and Dew braced himself against the counter to keep himself upright, only hissing a little when Swiss laughed. His voice was low and rusted, husked by sleep but tinged sweet. Perching his chin on his shoulder he fixed him a smile in their reflection, lazy but entirely genuine, before slotting himself properly against his back. He'd finally blinked the sleep from his eyes despite his lids sitting heavy, rings of gold peeking out from under dark lashes.

“Hey yourself,” he hummed and continued working his fingers through the ends of his damp hair. “Didn't think you'd be up for a bit - don't tell me I somehow managed to wake you.” 

“Oh nothin’ wakes me darling.” Strong arms snuck around his narrow waist and Swiss turned to tuck his face into his hair. Dew bit his lip, admiring the way his embrace just seemed to envelop him. Sure, he was small but Swiss always managed to make him feel it and it made his stomach do flips. “You smell good.” 

“You're gonna tangle my hair again,” Dew hissed half heartedly and he opted to hold him tighter. A subtle reminder that the multi ghoul could keep him however he liked. Part of Dew hoped he did just that.  

“Oh don't be such a priss, that's Rain's job” he snorted and pressed a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder. Careful to avoid the sore imprints of teeth leading down his neck like a true gentleman. “Just wanna hold my baby a little, can't really deny me that now can you?”

Dumbfounded, Dew once again paused in the motion. Fingers still tangled in his hair, he knit his brow. The action of embracing him, the pet name - not to mention the casual ‘my’ prefixed to it, he felt hit brain skitter to a halt. Swiss laughed again, not necessarily at him though. An amused exhale too close to his skin that makes him shudder. 

“Your baby?” He repeats with reluctance, heart rate picking up speed with each suspicious syllable. The smile he's met with is too much teeth, like Swiss might just eat him alive but not to revel in his agony. Like he might devour him to savor him in entirety, an act of reverence as opposed to violence. 

“My baby.” 

An involuntarily whine rose in his throat, eyes flitting away as to not watch the pink color his cheeks. Swiss was certainly watching.

“What's wrong?” He squeezed his middle and nosed lightly against his pulsepoint, likely feeling the way it stuttered. 

“You're being weird” Dew's voice went soft as little kisses were pressed to the hinge of his jaw. The heat in his belly was undeniable now but he still tried to distract himself, washing his hands in icy water. 

“And you're cute when you're all bashful like this, sweetheart.” Another kiss followed by a playful nip, the faintest catch of teeth against already bruised skin. Dew's eyes nearly fluttered. “You like it, know you do, love when I'm sweet on you like this.” 

Mouth opening to protest, Dew’s brain struggled to provide the words and he was left standing there stammering while Swiss continued to lightly bite and kiss along the column of his throat. He was turning to putty, dick beginning to twitch with interest. Every sappy, tooth-rotting whisper close to his ear aided it in fattening up much to his humiliation. The fire ghoul screwed his eyes shut when Swiss hummed curiously, mortified when his palm pressed to the front of his boxers. Dew whined again, distress and need mixed into one desperate sound. 

“You're blushing, beautiful…Prettiest shade of pink, wonder if it will be just as red when I get my hands on it.” 

“Fucking hells, you're gonna kill me,” he warbled and grabbed his wrist, unsure if he wanted to add to the pressure against him or pull him away. 

“Just love you baby, let me love you.”

Dew swallowed and cracked an eye open to take in the sight of them. He almost wanted to commit it to memory. 

“Y-Yeah, okay…Love you too.” 

#writing #void writing #mushy may 2024 #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swissdew #dewdrop x swiss #swiss x dewdrop #the band ghost #ghost the band #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost bc

[madeintheniamh]

daddy/daughter spa day

stmf one shot #7.

now that harry has a tween daughter on his hands, he can't escape from the weekly spa and beauty rituals he is forced to undergo...

a/n: aww, a short but sweet one! i love sassy tween tilly. the missus deffo struggles with her but harry just finds the whole tween/teenager stage absolutely hilarious

warnings: fluff.

song: our song- taylor swift

"Daddy, stop moving!"

Tilly was sat across the table from Harry with a bottle of violet nail varnish in her hand, attempting to pin her dad's hand to the table.

Harry puckered out his lips slightly, imitating her.

"I'm not!" He threw his free hand up in response.

"You are! Can you just stay still for one minute," she accused, staring back at him. He sighed, deciding not to argue. Maybe, he thought, it was a mistake buying Tilly a new gel nail varnish set for her birthday. Although she wasn't yet a teenager, it didn't stop her from acting like one. As frustrating as you found it, Harry seemed to find the whole 'tween' stage very entertaining, but one of the downsides was Tilly forcing him to sit down and have his nails painted and eyebrows reshaped for the third time in a week.

The noise from you entering the room caused him to shuffle around on his chair, jogging Tilly who had moved onto painting his index finger.

"Daddy, you've done it again!" she shouted, eyebrows furrowed. You kissed him on the forehead whilst he exhaled slowly.

"Til's beauty salon open again?" You laughed.

"Mhhhmm," he sighed. "I don't think she's gong to want me back after this,"

He smooched you on the lips, laughing at Tilly scrunching her face up in disgust. "Daddy, that's gross,"

"When did you get so lippy, hmm?" he chuckled. "You only just turned eleven last week,"

He kissed you again, this time running his thumb across your cheek. Tilly stood up from the table.

"I'm not doing your nails again, Daddy," she moaned. "You've made me ruin them, look!"

She grabbed his hand and held it up to his face.

"See Daddy, they're rubbish, let me go and take them off, where's the remover,"

He examined them closely, before looking back at her. "No, you don't need to do that baby, I love them,"

"You're lying," she sighed.

"I wouldn't lie to you, baby," He explained. "And not everything has to be perfect, does it? I love them because you did them, and I love you, now come here,"

He pulled her into his chest before peppering her forehead with kisses.

"You know how much Daddy loves you, don't you?" he smiled. "Even now that you're getting moody and embarrassed of me,"

She puckered her lips out again. "M'not!"

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her forehead and laughed. "Okay, baby. Okay,"

#harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #dadrry #harry styles imagine #harry styles dad #harry styles x reader #stmf

[jaytriesstuff]

Tim/Kon Sick Fic snippet that I started when I was sick and haven’t finished.

like 750 words ish

“I’m not sick,” Tim argues, punctuating his argument with an aggressive sneeze followed by harsh hacking.

“Are you holding a loogie in your mouth right now?” Kon crosses his arms and tilts his head in an attempt to mirror the infamous, and seriously effective, Dick Grayson Mom Stance (trademark pending).

In a disgusting display of defiance, Tim swallows. “No.”

There’s a glob neon yellow snot dripping from Tim’s left nostril that he drags his crusty sweatshirt sleeve across before snorting up another drip of snot coming from the right side this time.

“You are…” Kon sighs, exasperated, “so gross.”

The furrowed brows and grumpy pout paired with Tim’s pink nose and puffy eyes could almost be considered cute if Kon hadn’t just witnessed him swallow a loogie.

“How the hell did I fall in love with you?”

Kon knows exactly how it happened. He could write a library’s worth of books about all the things he loves about Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. That doesn’t change the fact that Tim absolutely refuses to admit that he’s sick and is being very gross about proving his health.

“Because I’m so totally handsome and I can do cool skateboard tricks.” His voice is scratchy and nasally and Kon can tell he’s trying very hard not to sniffle or cough. “And I’m super rich.” Tim bats his thick black eyelashes and flashes a big bright toothy smile in Kon’s direction. It’s usually quite charming but the new bead of snot dripping towards Tim’s upper lip causes his charisma to take a hit. “Gimme a smooch.”

Tim sniffles harshly, sucking the snot glob back into his nose. He leans in, lips puckered up and chapped from extended forced mouth breathing, eyes squeezed shut. Kon makes use of his tactile telekinesis to stop him from falling when he continues to lean forward.

“You’re cute,” Kon admits, pushing Tim back with TTK to balance on his own feet, “You’re also sick.”

“‘m not,” Tim pouts again, opening his eyes and glaring at Kon.

Yes he is. Tim is very sick. His nose is running a marathon and Kon could hear the congestion from a mile away without using his super hearing. He’s running a 102 degree fahrenheit fever and shivering like a speedster on a sugar high. His eyes are red and puffy and his eye bags have eye bags. He’s sneezing and coughing and if the way he frequently grimaces and groans is any indication he’s nauseous too.

It’s wild to Kon, how easily Tim tends to ignore his own health and well-being. He’s going to work himself to an early grave and take Kon with him. It’s frankly astonishing how long Tim’s made it and Kon is half convinced that Death is simply scared of Tim. It wouldn’t be surprising. Tim is absolutely horrifying when he wants to be. And also sometimes when he doesn’t mean to be.

“Just lay down in bed, Robbie. You’ll get better sooner if you rest.”

“Don’t need rest, ‘m not sick.” Tim makes a noise like he might throw up if either of them make a wrong move. He clears his throat when the feeling seemingly passes. “Gotta finish this report for WE and then file some evi- evid- evid ACHOO!” Tim sneezes and a snot rocket launches toward Kon in a majestic arch of green and yellow nasal mucus. Kon, luckily, manages to move out of the way and not be hit by the bio weapon.

“Did you just say “achoo” as you sneezed?”

“I didn’t sneeze,” Tim says, like a lying liar who lies.

Kon looks from Tim to the small puddle of snot on the floor. “What’s that then?”

Tim scoffs a couple of times, searching for a reasonable answer. His brain isn’t working at full capacity, which is reasonable considering he’s very sick, despite his resolute denial. “Science project.”

Tim lives and breathes gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, Kon will give him that, but Kon has mastered manipulate, mansplain, malewife. Especially that malewife bit. If Tim ever wanted to put a ring on it Kon would make a wonderful trophy wife.

“Yeah? What’s the hypothesis?” That’s right, Kon knows science words, Kon was a science project. They implanted all kinds of information in his head. He may be a certified Ken but he’s not stupid. Tim, of course, is a Barbie, but that was never really a question.

“It’s about projectile paths and stuff.”

Kon cannot believe how endearing Tim is when he’s being this gross.

#tim drake #kon el kent #kon el superboy #kon el #dc comics #red robin tim drake #tim drake wayne #tim drake is desgusting and in denial #batman #young just us #young justice #timkon #tim drake/kon el kent #conner kent #jaytrieswriting

[the-possum-writes]

Hey hun! I fricken love Adventure and its so hard to find fics of it but your blog is great! Could you do a Finn x reader where its just our boy being super affectionate and playful he chases the reader and then tickles them, gives lots of smooches and just lots of fluff? Thanks!

Call me sunshine

❥Character: Finn Mertens

❥Tags: Fluff, SFW, playful banter, Gn!reader

❥Synopsis:

After spending weeks digging through underground tunnels, both you and Finn coincidentally resurface near a flower hill.

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards

With only dirt and rocks in the way, you and your buddy had to spend several hours using pickaxes and shovels to break through the obstruction. Eventually, the soil began to soften, making the task simpler for you both.

"How much longer till we leave this place? It feels like we've been digging nonstop for days."

The map crinkles beneath your calloused hands, which are covered in fabric bandages, clearing the dust so you can see your math equations in the corner. "It should be a few feet away; once the ground turns to sand, we're good."

"Do you mean this?"Finn switched to a shovel to remove the few rocks that were intertwined with streams of gray sand and seashells. The dust filling the cave became so overwhelming that you raised the bandana on your neck to your lower jaw, stuffing the map in your pocket in order to help Finn before he gets buried alive. Once the sand broke away into a hole on the cieling the two of you are showered in natural sunlight that burns your pupils like lemon juice on an open wound.

Finn burst into a cheery laugh. "I never knew I'd be so happy to get blinded by the sun." he rubs his eyes a few times before getting used to the exterior, stretching and arm out to help you climb out of the hole.

"I'm not in a rush to go blind but I'm glad we got out of those caves, it was starting to feel claustrophobic." you tug the cloth from your face, feeling like its suffocating you now that it isn't necessary. While you drop down on the sand dunes soaking up in the sun, Finn started jogging downhill to probably stretch his legs or something. After spending weeks underground you regret taking the sun for granted, relishing the warmth it lays over your dirt ridden skin, listening closely to the seagulls and the nearby shore like a natural lullaby. You could've easily taken a nap right there if it wasn't for a shadow blocking the light from your face, opening your eyes to a drenched young man in front of you.

In the few minutes you laid down Finn had already ditched his clothes and his caving gear and ran off to dip in the oceanside without you.

"What's up with you?" Finn asked, with his hands on his waist eyeing you like an oddity that washed ashore.

You scrunched up your nose when a few droplets landed on your heated skin.  "Me? What's up with you?" you retort.

He squeezes the water out of his wild medium length hair. "I needed a dip after getting all dusty in there, you should try it!"

You scrunch your nose a second time and casually rest your arms behind your head. "Thanks but no thanks, I'll take a hot shower when I get home."

Finn laughs, pinching his nose. "You're gross, why wait for a shower when you got a giant bath out here." he waves a hand where the ocean is.

"No way, fish pee in there." you say jokingly while sticking your tongue out.

"So what? I pee in the shower too." Finn responds almost immediately, with you taunting him with gaging noises.

"That's even worse!"

"Come'on, if I can't take you willing then I'll have to dunk you in myself!" Having enough of your tomfoolery, Finn playfully tries to grab hold of you.

"Heck nah! Get away from me ya seadog!" you immediately scramble to your feet and take off running with Finn chasing right behind your tail like a starving animal. The sand kicks up with every step you take, slows you down a bit as you run uphill, but the scenery changes the farther you run, with patches of grass becoming more common and colorful. Eventually you reach the top of the sand dune with a heaving chest, seemingly forgetting why you were in a hurry when your eyesight was blessed with grassy meadows and soft flowers swaying peacefully in the breeze, after growing used to dark browns and grays caverns its easy to be captured by such an cheery display.

"Gotcha!" Finn catches up to you by wrapping his arms around your midsection and promptly sent you down the grassy hill with him. There's leafs and petals flying everywhere as your vision blurs like a carousel with the ground replacing where the ground should be over and over again, the only thing keeping your limbs together is Finn holding you tight, eventually landing at the bottom of the hill with an "Oomph!" as flowers crumble under the two of you. "Bleh!" you spit out the petals that got into your mouth. All the while Finn is contently laughing to himself even though he's trapped under you, it's tempting to spew some colorful words at him but you're unable to stay mad at him because his laugh is that contagious.

"...I guess I could use that ocean bath now." you admit in defeat.

Finn out stretches his arms to you embrace you in a smooch, you pull back slowly to repeat the kiss but it got interrupted by the flower petal that got in your mouth, causing Finn to blow a raspberry. "Bleh." he pouts and this time you're the one laughing.

#adventure time x reader #finn the human x reader #finn the human #finn mertens x reader #reader insert

[websterss]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇 — 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You’d think one little kiss would be a piece of cake, but turns out it’s a full fudge mess.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Fluff 

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,323

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! ♡

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Los Felix, Los Angeles, California, 1994. Town Fundraiser.

“What a wonderful day to be alive. As I live and breathe at the same time as Luke Patterson.” Your friend Mia, exclaimed as you stood off to the side watching the long line of girls plant themselves in front of the kissing booth. The kissee being Luke himself.

“What a dreadful day to be able to see.” You crossed your arms.

“Who would have thought Luke’s idea for a kissing booth would become so popular.” 

“Yeah…who knew.” You gave her a tight lipped smile.

“Oh come on, Y/n. It’s for a good cause.” She shook your arm in an attempt to cheer you up. “Plus, Alex said they’re raising a ton of money so far. I think by tonight we’ll have raised all the money we needed from all the booths, including the kissing booth.” Mia started making smooching noises at you, laughing at your reaction.

“Okay, okay enough of that. Can we go enjoy our time? I’d rather hurl due to the swirl of evil than at the sight of girls kissing Luke.”

“Maybe Luke’s lips can change your mood, ya know make you feel better.” She nudged you, quirking her brow at you.

“Gross.” You laughed at her assumption. “As if I’d ever let that stupid rockstar, smirk grinning two timing specimen anywhere near me and my lips.”

“Okay, whatever you say, Y/n.” Mia giggled, pushing you away from the group and the line of girls.

-

To say you spoke too soon would have been an understatement.

“You gonna stand there all day? There is a line ya know?” Luke smiled at you, amused. You were five feet from the actual booth. Clenching and unclenching your fist.

“M-Maybe.” You took a deep breath. You could not believe that you lost a stupid bet to Reggie of all people. You knew you were a bad shooter, yet you took the challenge anyway. Losing at the water balloon game. You didn’t even get the bear you wanted.

Luke licked his lips, looking away with a laugh.

“The fundraiser is gonna end at some point, Y/L/N.” Luke checked his watch. 

“I know…just give me a minute.” You sassed at him.

He threw his hands up in surrender.

“It’s just a whole dollar for a quick kiss on the cheek, Y/L/N. Come on, it’s for a good cause.” Luke threw that charming smile of his, your way.

“Yeah…kissing you would be quite the act of charity, huh?” You smirked. You looked over your shoulder as a girl from school told you to hurry up for holding up the line. You groaned as you dug out some cash from your leather boot. “You said a dollar?” You asked, observing the 5 you had.

“You can get a special deal for those 5.” Luke leaned down, supporting his weight on his arms on the counter.

“I expect my change.” You quipped back, slamming the whole buck down for a dramatic effect. 

“Alright then…” Luke mouthed, taking the 5 dollar bill and giving you back four. “Your change, madam.” He smiled gently then said. “Now my kiss.”

“Don’t get too excited, Patterson.” You rolled your eyes, mentally preparing yourself. You closed your eyes and leaned in to peck his cheek. Luke leaned in wanting to let the touch of your lips linger a bit longer on his skin.

“Now that wasn’t so bad.” He teased you.

“Guess not.” You averted your eyes, leaning back. You looked up and saw Luke already doing the same. “I got to go.” You nodded. You patted the counter with your hands.

“Yeah, see ya later?” Luke raised his eyebrows waiting for your answer. 

“Sure.” You gave a gentle smile.

Your eyes grew wide as you walked away from the booth. You just gave Luke a kiss, on the cheek, just like you said you wouldn’t do. “Keep it together, Y/n. It didn’t mean anything.” Back at the booth Luke was in a nervous wreck state as well.

“Keep it together, Luke. It didn’t mean anything.” He then called the next person in line with a tight lipped smile. “Next!”

-

If you had to be honest the kiss on the cheek wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. Save for the nerves running through your veins, you couldn’t help but feel like something was going on. You just couldn’t quite put a name to it yet.

“So I take it, the kiss went well?” You heard Mia’s sing-song voice come from behind you. You turned around and faced her. She frowned when your mouth opened and closed like a fish needing water. “Seriously? You got out of line didn’t you?” She placed her hands on her hips.

“No I uh, he kissed me- well on the cheek.” You stammered as you began explaining yourself. 

“Wait, are you for real? Oh my god, Y/n!” Mia cheered for you. “How was it?”

You looked around and grabbed her hand, finding a photo booth nearby and getting in. “Woah what’s wrong?” She noticed you fiddle with your fingers.

“Mia, why do I feel like this?” You frowned trying to shake whatever it was out of you. 

“Like what?”

“My head feels heavy, my heart is pumping fast. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I think I might explode!” You rambled on.

“Is this a panic attack you’re having?” She looked at you, questioning your sanity.

“Mia!” You hit her. She cupped her arm wincing from your punch.

“Okay jeez. I think I have an idea, but you probably won’t like it.” She grimaced already knowing your reaction.

“What, what is it?”

“I think you’re experiencing, wait for it ...butterflies!” She made a big hand gesture to emphasize.

“Mia, I’m serious.” You began getting upset. 

“I am too. I think you like Luke.”

You preteneded to vomit, to which she replied with. “I did say you weren’t gonna like it.”

“I-I can’t like Luke. Luke’s is…he’s Luke! Mr. Big shot wannabe Rockstar. Me? Liking Luke? No. Okay, no way. Wanna hear it in Spanish? No!”

“Hey it’s your butterflies. Do what you want with them, but when love is real, it doesn’t lie chica.” She clicked her tongue, placing her thumb underneath your chin, and shooting you a wink. “Don’t push those feelings aside. You know you shouldn’t.” She got up and pushed past the curtain to get out.

“Mia!”

“See ya!” She laughed and walked off with Reggie who had been waiting for her with two cotton candies in her hand. And oh how you wished that he was alone, but he wasn’t. Alex and Luke just had to be there.

You huffed and got out as well.

“Hey.” Luke greeted you warmly. “No pictures?” He gestured to your empty hands. 

“Um no, just girl talk.” You nervously laughed.

“Ooh what about?” Alex butted in, and that’s when you looked away from Luke. “Ahh I see then. Well I’m gonna go, Willie wants to get on a few rides before the fundraiser closes.” Alex motioned over his shoulder with his thumb. “So bye.”

“Bye Alex.” You laughed.

“See you at band practice tomorrow?” Luke patted his shoulder and bid his farewells with him. 

“Yeah. Anyways I got to go, nice seeing you, Y/n.”

“Likewise, Alex.” You waved him off, then awkwardly turned to face Luke. “So.”

“So.” You smiled and found interest in your shoes.

“Care for a walk?” Luke gestured ahead of you two, and you slowly agreed.

“Sure why not.”

“After you, m’lady.” He tried his best at a British accent.

“Oh, thank you kind sir.” You curtsied with your skater skirt and giggled at his antics. 

“So did you enjoy the fundraiser?” Luke stuffed his hands in his jeans.

“Which part? The one where I lost a bet to Reggie of all people, or the fact I almost threw up on the swirl of evil?” You smirked over at the brunette.

“Yeah I still can’t believe you bet 20 bucks against Reggie.” Luke shook his head. 

“Would not recommend…I mean I didn’t even win that stupid bear. Take my word for it Patterson,  not worth it.” You laughed it off. Yet, Luke was surprised to know that you didn’t win anything today. He turned around and stopped. His smile grew upon realizing that you both stopped at the exact game you lost at.

“Wait right here, okay.” Luke put his hands on your forearms to stop you in place.

“What?” You giggled, confused.

“Just wait right here and don’t move.”

“Okay…” You agreed nonetheless and stayed put.

You watched as he ran up to the man running the water gun game. Luke pulled out his wallet and handed the man a bill. He took a seat at the gun, and turned to face the little kid next to him. Then the game began, Luke put all his focus on the mouth of the clown and watched as his balloon filled up. He had filled it up and made it pop first. A bell rang out signally that he had won. The man asked him what reward he wanted, and Luke just so happened to remember the one you pointed to early in the night.

“If I win, I want that one.” You had pointed to a dark brown teddy bear the size of a bean bag. 

“Why that one?” Luke asked you.

“Why not? I don’t know, it’s a great motivator, helps the win feel better, I guess.”

“You’ve never won these types of games before have you?”

“Nope.” You shrugged.

“No ones ever won you anything either?”

“Sadly no. Anyway...Reggie you’re going down!” You pointed at the black haired boy and put your game face on.

“Can I have that one please?” He pointed to the bean bag bear, and thanked the guy once he handed it over to him. The little boy he beat looked sad and defeated, to which Luke then proceeded to hand him all the other tickets he had left in his pockets.

“Knock yourself out kid.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, and the boy ran off excited to be able to play some more.

You let out a breathy laugh, feeling your heart pick up. A timid smile made its appearance on your lips as you stared at Luke, approaching you and hiding behind the bear.

“Hi there, my name’s Teddy, and I love kisses, muah.” Luke took the hand off the bear and pressed it to its mouth to throw you a kiss. A genuine laugh rang out of you, and he came out behind the bear, beaming. Yet he stopped once he noticed your shocked expression. “What?” He smiled.

“Butterflies…” You muttered, under your breath.

“What?” Luke heard you mumble but couldn’t quite hear you. 

“You got me the bear I wanted.” You chuckled in utter disbelief.

“Yeah…I thought it’d be nice knowing how much you wanted it. Plus like you said earlier, no ones ever won anything for you, so I thought I could be the first.” He looked up at you nervously.

“You remembered.” You nodded. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. It was all too much, you felt like you were going to cry on the spot.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“You know you’re not so bad, Luke.” You looked at your shoes then at him. 

“Didn’t think you knew my first name.” He smirked.

“I know your middle name.” You shrugged.

“No you don’t!” 

“No? Lukas Charl-” You laughed as he tried to place his hand over your mouth. “Charles Patterson.”

“Okay, so you do know my middle name. What else do you know?” Luke eyed you wearily. 

“You slept with a blankie till you were 13.” 

“Who told you?” Luke’s eyes grew big.

“Reggie has a bad habit of telling me things.” You laughed.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Luke looked over his shoulder for any sign of him, but it was just you two, and other people that were walking around. He shook his head before turning back to face you. You rocked on your heels letting the sound of music and rides take over the silence between you two. Luke liked how comfortable you were. You let your hard demeanor down and let yourself enjoy the night with your friends. 

“So you want the bear or…” He teased backing away with it

“What? Yes I want the bear.” You snatched the stuffed animal out of his hold, then placed it back in his arms after realizing how heavy it was. “Actually how about you carry it the rest of the night.” You teased him. 

“Oh so that’s how this is gonna go, huh?” He raised an eyebrow at you. Chasing after you as you began walking away backwards. “Oh, you’re so gonna get it, Y/L/N.” He exclaimed as he ran after you.

“No, no, no.” You laughed as he caught you. 

“Caught you…” He spun you around to face him.

“You caught me…” You gasped realizing the close proximity between you two.

Your eyes fell on his lips then his eyes. Luke caught you and began leaning in but stopped. “That’ll be a dollar.”

You scoffed smacking him playfully.

“Jerk. No discount for me?” You batted your eyes playfully at him.

“How about free of charge?” He played along offering you a better deal.

“I like that deal…I like that deal a lot.” You giggled tugging him closer by the nape of his curls. 

“Well, I like free kisses, especially if they’re by Y/n Y/L/N, I think Teddy can vouch for me too.”

“Well I am very grateful for you, and for Teddy of course.” 

“Can’t forget Teddy.”

“No we can’t.” You shook your head. Luke pulled you in by the waist to kiss you. "You’re still carrying Teddy for me.”

“I figured as much.” Luke closed his eyes, sighing.

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x fem!reader #my gif #writings by juls

[quitealotofsodapop]

Hope you are getting better.

Also just saw/read the new AU of Mac being in the Furnace with Wukong.

Well at least when LBC revives Mac, it'll be a happier occasion for the Monkeys... Maybe?

If this does follow the TMKATI timeline after the Journey, then Mac hopefully won't kill Wukong when he realises he is now incubating a Chaos Egg.

That or the Gods/Buddha/Guan Yin help give Smokey!Mac his body back? As a reward for Wukong/to stop ghosts from haunting the Celestial Realm as revenge.

I feel like instead of making "a deal" with Mac in the Furnaced!Macaque au, I imagine it's more that Macaque now falls under LBD's control as a cloud of ashen bones. The White Bone Spirit chapter would def be a lot more chaotic.

Macaque spends a lot of the Journey as the pilgrim's annoyed trapped voice of reason. Whether or not the others can hear him means little, cus they likely wont follow his advice. If he makes it to Thunderclap Monastery without trying to suffocate somebody, the Buddha might grant his body back...

If Wukong doesn't cash in his reward for something else other than elightenment;

Buddha: "And for the great changes you have overcome, Sun Wukong, I grant you-" Wukong, holding up the Urn: "Give Mac his body back." Buddha: "Done. Lady Guanyin, if you may?" Guanyin, her vase geting a brief buff: *pours her vase contents into the Urn* Furnaced!Macaque: *regains his fleshy body* "What the..." (Wukong tackles Macaque with a hug/kiss so ethusiastic that they both fall to the ground) Zhu Bajie, surprised: "Wow. His mate really was in there." Sha Wujing, whispering: "Hey brother, I thought you were gonna use your boon to become an arhat." Wukong, face buried in Mac's fluff: "Nope. I got paradise right here." Macaque, laughing joyfully: "You big sap!" (*Gross smooching noises resume*)

The Buddha quickly has to move the rest of the Pilgrims to a different spot cus them monkeys gonna be kissing a while.

Macaque might get a boon for himself, but only a small one. Buddha knows that if Mac had hands, he'd try strangling Tripitaka or Bajie at least a few times throughout the Journey.

Macaque's presence after the Journey might also affect how the Samadhi Fire ritual goes... he has "survived" it before after all.

Canon MK running into the Monkey King's annoyed mate shortly after getting the Staff, and having a bonus fanboy-freak-out moment. After all, the tale of the Monkey King's Ashen Warrior would be a pretty big detail to be added to the Furnaced!-Jttw storyline. Macaque thinks its adorable that he has such an enthusiastic fan - but him and Wukong argue over the better ways to mentor MK.

If it precedes the TMKATI au, then Macaque likely would stay out of the limelight for the couple hundred years while Wukong continues his hero stuff. Early retirement from warrior-hood if you may. Also I bet Furnaced!Macaque and Wukong would be far more estatic about having the Chaos Egg than the base au pair.

#furnaced!macaque au #furnaced!macaque #shadowpeach #lmk shadowpeach au #lego monkie kid #lmk #sun wukong #liu er mihou #six eared macaque #journey to the west #jttw

[manicplank]

Okay, we have T-word, hugs, babysitting, hight and age headcanons...

Maybe its time for...

Platonic kisses headcanons?! (Like, cheeks and nose tip friendly kisses)

(Just remember that both pep and gustavo have some mustache...and also i have a small headcanon, i think brick loves tummy kisses from gustavo, just like Fakey, but i guess nobody will kiss his tum, expect for Noisette and maybe pizzaboy?? Poor boi:( )

Hmmm... I can try with this one, but it might not be the best.

Platonic kisses!

Peppino: Does that European style cheek kiss, the one where they go side to side. It's actually a very common greeting. Only does it to very close friends. His mustache probably tickles. Refuses to give Fakey kisses. ):

Gustavo: Also does the greeting kiss! Does it to close friends. Gives Brick loves of nose and head smooches. Brick likes tummy kisses, but Gustavo has to be careful. Brick might roll over and squish him.

Mr. Stick: Doesn't do platonic kisses. Probably a little weird about touch.

Pepperman: The only platonic kisses he gives are when you give him a GRAND idea for an art piece. He'll pick you up, give you a BIG kiss on your forehead, and go "MWAH! You absolute genius!"

The Vigilante: Doesn't necessarily do platonic kisses... BUT he smooches all of his cows on their little heads, ESPECIALLY the calves. Little babies.

The Noise: NO. JUST DON'T. Absolutely doesn't like touch. Platonic kisses are not a thing to him. Try to do so and you will end up in the hospital getting treated for rabies.

Noisette: Similar to The Noise, she doesn't really do platonic kisses. Does the greeting kisses with her parents (I headcanon she's French-American with French parents). Will kiss Fakey's cheeks every now and again (but don't tell Noise or he'll flip).

Fake Peppino: Doesn't gives smooches with his lips. He licks like a dog would. It makes him sad that most people don't let him lick them. His kisses are slimy, gooey, and a bit uncomfortable. But keep in mind that he eats literally everything... So uh... Yeah they're a little gross.

Pizzahead: Gives kisses to Fakey on the cheekies. He loves his little clones. He is the only one that will let Fakey lick him, and Fakey LOVES it (because he likes the taste of pizza). Might do the same as Pepperman when you give him a grand idea.

Pillar John: Platonic kisses aren't really his thing. He associates kisses with romance only.

Gerome: Please do not touch the janitor. (He's the same as John.)

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #pizzahead #noisette #peppino #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #pepperman #the vigilante #mr. stick #pillar john #pizza tower gustavo #pizza tower gerome

[z3nitsusgf]

sewn into my silver lining 

billy butcher | you - 2.3k 

cw: angst angst angst, no happy ending, mention of blood and violence, butcher being butcher, toxic dynamics

a/n: he’s sad pathetic and sad i hope his brain turns to swiss cheese fr (affectionately)  

He comes to you bloodied and dripping in viscera.

Frenchie and Kimiko are off getting supplies, probably smooching in the middle of the snack aisle. Hughie is busy at work, being cushy with Neuman and getting his bagels stolen from his boss. MM is with his daughter, couldn’t be bothered with Butcher’s bullshit anymore. So that leaves you, sweet ol’ you, to take care of the English bastard when he comes blazing through the place.

Butcher doesn’t say much when he pushes open the door and stalks inside. His boots left red sticky patterns on the tile. He’s spattered in blood, the color so deep it looks almost black on his jacket. Another one of his ugly Hawaiian button-up’s ruined because he’s too in love with the feeling of fighting. His face smeared in the irony liquid and god - he reeks of copper and dirt.

Your lips curl at the sight of him. You’ve long since grown used to the sight, but he usually makes an attempt to clean up before he sees you. He says it’s because he doesn’t wanna hear your bitching, but you know deep down he’s saving you the anxiety of having to see him like that.

When he looks at you he gives you a wide feral smile, teeth glinting a pearly white, “Ello love, m’home.”

You can tell he’s exhausted, whether it’s physically or mentally you can’t decipher. Probably both knowing him. You scoff at his words, shaking your head as you glance over his stumbling body. He’s a wreck.

“You look like hell Butcher. What happened, ass-bomb another supe?” He fucking laughs because of course he does, his hands clutching his bruised ribs as he wheezes out breathy chuckles. Every exhale makes his eyes water, the fluttering along his ribcage shows signs of hairline fractures, a bitch to heal.

He’ll never ask for your help, only taking it when he needs it. Still, you offer it anyways.

“Good one love, but no.” He doesn’t explain anymore and you don’t ask. He gets cagey when you prod him for answers and you don’t really feel like dealing with a cunty Butcher right now.

You sigh, getting up from your place on the ragged couch. You don’t bother to turn off the TV, it's nice to have the background noise when he doesn’t speak. You’re pointing to the bathroom, a knowing look on your face.

“Come on old man, you smell like shit.” His thick brows draw up and he looks at you with a straight face, the smirk dropping off his mouth. You almost laugh, biting back the chuckle as he curls his lip at you.

“M’not that old.” He grumbles, allowing you to wrap your arm around his waist and guide him to the bathroom.

“Mhmm, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night, geezer.” He rolls his eyes at your words, hiding his smile.

The place is not glamorous, the building is old as shit and better left for rats and junkies. But it makes sure you all are hidden from The Seven, Homelander especially. You won’t lie though, you miss your clean, nice bathroom from your old apartment. This one is dingy, glowing with a gross-looking fluorescent that buzzes so loud you think you’ll go deaf. The porcelain tub is permanently stained with.. you don’t know what. But there’s clean(?) water and electricity, so you can’t complain too much.  

He sheds his coat, the poor thing has seen more carnage than you will in your entire life, and he sits on the closed lid of the toilet, rolling his neck in a tired manner. The bones crack, the soft warm gush floods the nerves and he sighs out in relief.

You already know the drill, pulling out a relatively clean rag and running it under the tap and a small plastic first-aid kit. You stand between his legs, dabbing at the cut on his cheekbone with the damp cloth. He doesn’t flinch or wince or even make snarky comments while you clean his bloodied face, trying to be gentle with the cuts and bruises that littered his skin. The faded yellow and blue kiss all over his skin, disappearing into his beard where you know more scars lie.

“You need to be more careful.” You mumble, swiping along his forehead.

He grins, a cheeky smile on his lips, “Why? Ya worried about dear ol’ me?”

You scoff, pushing the rag harder against his skin. He just smiles harder at the pain, the lines of his face showing as he leers up at you.

“No, I’m just running out of bandages because you keep getting your ass handed to you.” You sass back, huffing at him like he’s a stubborn dog. And he is. A stubborn old dog that’s learned his tricks and won’t drop them now because they’re embedded into his system like cancer.

“Besides, you gotta keep this pretty face intact. What will Hughie do if you lose your teeth and have to get dentures?”

You pat his cheek in a mocking manner and Butcher clicks his tongue. He comes up and pinches the side of your waist, reveling in the yelp you give him.

“Don’t act like you don’t adore this pretty face.”

You go back to wiping the carnage from his face, humming under your breath. He is very pretty, handsome like the moon. With high resting cheekbones, how his words drip from his lips like nectar. Down to the sloping breach of his nose and the puffy waterline of his sunken eyes, blinking under heavy lashes. He’s an old type of beauty, one that gets better as he ages. You’ll never admit that to him though, you’ll just admire it from far, occasionally getting to touch it when he allows you to.

It’s the little things that you know about him that give you clarity. Those small quirks only you know or notice. Like the silent way he observes the world around him. And the blank way he stares into space and seemingly disappears into his own void. The way he clasps his palms together and holds them like a prayer, keeping them close to his thighs. the way he likes his coffee - strong with lots of sugar in it and no cream).

You’re both bathed in the glow of the bathroom, the faint buzzing of the lights and the scattered talking of the TV all blend together in a calm haze. It all feels too domestic.

You’re a sweet thing, like Hughie. Young, with the world at your feet. and Butcher is dragging you down with him. He hates that he doesn’t have the heart to let you go. To tell you that none of this is worth it, that he’s self-serving and bad for you. Butcher keeps his eyes down, dark eyelashes fluttering with each soft drag of the cool fabric across his heated skin. He hardly notices the sting of the water seeping into his cuts.  It feels good, he doesn’t remember the last time someone touched him so softly. Years, he thinks. When she used to-

There’s a tenderness you show him. Like gentle April rain, you shower him in a sweetness he does not deserve. One that makes his lips purse and his jaw tick, one that reminds him too much of her.

You’re too focused on debating whether or not he’ll need stitches to notice his change in demeanor. Butcher grabs your wrist, fingers tightening around the bone. You can’t tell if he’s trying to push you away or pull you in.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice too soft for someone like him. You smooth your other hand over his hairline, uncaring of the sweat and blood that coats the pads of your fingers. What isn’t wrong? This whole façade is slipping out of his hands and he can’t keep pretending he’s not tired of getting up each time he gets knocked down. This world is so cruel, has been so cruel. And he doesn’t know what to do with it all.

He’s so full of rage. It’s dangerous to keep it all inside. A man only has a grip as tight as he does because he knows that if he lets go, even slightly, he will hurl himself into the abyss. He needs to hate the whole world and everything in it. Butcher doesn’t shed his pain, instead, he upholds it like a boulder over his shoulders.

He looks up at you, he feels himself wanting to just let you in. Just give up and crumble into your chest. There’s a pull in his chest that begs him to just completely open himself up to you. Let you smooth over his scarred wounds and heal the new ones. But he won’t.

His eyes harden and he’s letting go to smack your hand away from his face, the sting spreads across the back of your palm. Your lips part at the feeling.

“Quit treating me like I’m your fuckin’ daddy, cause I ain’t. You want someone to take care of so badly why don’t you get a fuckin’ dog.”

You joined knowing what kind of man he is. Hell-bent on getting rid of supes and stubborn as a mule. William Butcher was no saint, but he’s more broken than he’ll ever admit.  But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t burn whenever he’s mean.

“I-“

He’s snarling, lacing his tone with so much hot-spit rage that you draw back,

“You’re so fucking clingy n’ pathetic. You always need one of us to save ya and ya can’t even handle a bit of roughing up.”

You should be used to it by now, the brutal humiliation and the way he flips on a dime. You’ve seen it, with Hughie and Kimiko. But you’re not. You’re still soft in the center, still raw and open, still too naïve.

He’s not looking at you, he’s staring past you. Behind your silhouette and at the flickering of the bathroom light that casts dark shadows on the peeling wall. His jaw is clenched so hard you’re almost worried about him chipping his teeth, there’s a vein that pops on his forehead.

You clench the rag tighter in your fist, there are salty crystalline tears that prick your waterline. You always hate crying in front of the boys, especially Butcher.

“Fuck you, you’re such-“ You inhale shakily, the air so hot and humid you want to choke.

“You’re such an asshole, Butcher.”

It’s juvenile at best, your shitty little comeback is all you can throw back in his face. Words he’s heard a million times. He chuckles, eyes roaming over your face, he sees the glassy look in your eyes, the lip tucked between your teeth. He lands the final blow, severing it completely.  

“One of us has to be. Can’t have you ruinin’ everything just cause you’re too weak to get it done.”

He twitches at the breathy inhale you give. He’s got this clenched look on his face, the plane of his features so blank you want to just crumble on the spot. His mouth is pursed, eyebrows drew together in a way that shows he’s serious.

How does he always manage to make you feel bad for wanting to be good?

Butcher knows he’s a piece of shit, knows that you’re just an innocent thing that got caught in the cross-fire. He’s always pushed and pushed and pushed everyone’s boundaries, to see how far they can go before they leave. But he still wants to punch himself when he hears your sniffles. The quiet quiver of your lip and the subtle tremble in your knuckles as you completely pull back from between his thighs.

He misses your warmth.

Sometimes you hate him, sometimes you wish he’d just disappear and never come back like he often threatened to do when everyone was getting too soft. Like right now, you want to smack him in the mouth for being so… so mean. You know it’s stupid, childish, but you want him to understand.

But then he saddles up to you like a beaten dog. Looking at you with soft dark eyes and giving you a worn smile that makes your heartache. You hate to admit that Butcher has wormed his way in, like smoke in your clothes. You always knew he would come back, even if he never made any promises. A silly childish part of you always hoped that he would stay.

Maybe that’s your mistake, thinking he would ever soften up. Even if it was for you.

He’s silent, brooding, acting like it’s not even a big deal. That makes you snap, the disregard he has for everyone. You snarl at him, lips curling over your teeth as you bare your incisors at him. You fling the rag into his face, turning on your heel as you call out over your shoulder,

“Clean yourself up or don’t, I don’t fucking care.”

Your tone is so watery, so filled with that tiredness that Frenchie and MM have. It makes him sick. Butcher jumps slightly when he hears you slam the front door. He can hear your boots as they stalk away, the muffled sniffles coming from your nose. he knows you’ll go off, whether to cry or be alone (or both), but he doesn’t make any move to stop you.

He’s alone.

He knows you’ll come back. Knows that in the dark of night you’ll slip back into the apartment. And if not, Kimiko and Frenchie will go and find you, pleading with you to come back and give it another chance. They always do.

Butcher clings to the rag you threw at him, fisting the material as he grits his teeth.

Why is he like this? Why can’t he just be satisfied with what he has? Why must he always crave more? Why is it so goddamn exhausting to keep himself indifferent? He’s never felt sad, only despair. Never mad, only full of resentment. He’s never been embarrassed, he only knows humiliation. And he loathes to feel this way because he constantly searches his brain for a time he was truly joyous, but he always comes up empty.

Always his fault, always. You’re just another unfortunate soul that got too close, bearing the brunt of his oozing heart.

#val.writes ❦ #the boys.✮ #the boys x reader #the boys x you #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher x you #billy butcher #the boys #the boys angst #billy butcher angst

[zmediaoutlet]

Hi, Z! I’d love to know about how you think JohnDean’s first kiss happened. And then SamDean’s first kiss too— be it in the same timeline if you feel like it’d be realistic (I do lol). The differences between the two from Dean’s pov.

Maybe it’s unpopular but I see johndean’s first kiss as soft. John finds that kissing Dean is comforting. And Dean revels in the kiss, feels mushy inside bc HOLYSHITdadFinally! Same for when he kisses Sam, he is so happy. He’s such a sweetheart!

John/Dean -- for one, I think the first kiss would be well after the first sexual encounter. I'm sorry that I can't come with you on the soft and comforting but this is what I'm imagining: when you're fucking your son, you very much try to pretend that's not what's happening as it's happening, because you're not a monster or a villain from a '70s sex slasher and you aren't that kind of guy, right? So it's just -- a physical thing that happens. It's getting off because sometimes you've got to get off and it's a cramped uncomfortable tangle in the front seat of the car after a seven hour stake-out or a furious panting silent fumble pressed up against the back of an abandoned warehouse or a clean-up of blood with just enough booze to keep the brain loose but not so much you get whiskey-dick and it's just -- physical sensation. Autonomic impulses. No one's fault. --Except of course they're your fault, because you're the dad and you're the combat commander and who's in charge, here? And so there's the self-incriminations and the self-punishment and the punishment of the kid, too, which isn't even something you wanted to do but you couldn't help pushing him away, getting snappish and short and gruff, and then he thinks he's done something wrong, and that wasn't---you didn't intend that but it does the job all the same, so maybe it's just as well. And it's not until the third time or maybe the fourth that Dean turns his head at just the right time and your mouths brush together and you remember when he was a tiny kid, just a little boy, squishy kinda-gross smooches nighty-night for both you and for your wife. And you jerk away, remembering. But Dean stays right there and breathes hot and he's got his hand--- there--- and your wires cross and you grab his jaw and it's not soft at all, it's not nighty-night, because you're fucking, here, and you can't pretend otherwise, and you open his mouth wide and lick in and he makes this weird high noise and he doesn't sound like that little boy, at all, and that makes it--- not better or worse but different, anyway. Afterward he's very cautious but he leans in and kisses you again. You let him. It's soft because Dean wants it to be soft and that's the worst part, maybe. That it's sweet, and feels somehow comforting, and that makes this real and maybe the worst thing you've ever done. You got a list to compare it against.

And when it's Sam, later, and he's had just enough to drink where he's sloppy but not so much that he's whiskey-dicked and he's leaned up against Dean's shoulder kind of laughing but kind of pissed off, because the world isn't anything like the lies he told himself the world could be, and his grip slips and his mouth smears sloppy over Dean's jaw, Dean thinks about when Sam was a tiny kid, just a little boy, and he gave these squishy too-wet kisses that smacked loud and he said night night and Dean made faces at him and wiped the goo off his jaw but he thought they were cute, too, and missed them kind of later when he thought about how they'd both grown up, and now Sam's breath is hot against his throat and his lips spread over Dean's stubble and Dean wants--- wishes--- for some soft careful thing, just wants to make Sam feel better, to make the world something that could feel good at least even if the world wasn't right, but Sam doesn't kiss him then, after all--- he gets his hand down the front of Dean's jeans and then grabs Dean's hand and puts it where it's wanted, and it's--- it hardly matters, the alley behind a bar at two a.m. or the open door of a motel bathroom with the light shining on Sam's hair and shadow at his right shoulder--- but afterward, when Sam's panting and loose and heavy all against him, Dean ducks his chin and sneaks in and kisses him--- careful, soft. Just once. Later Sam will press his mouth open and catalogue his teeth and it'll feel like--- other times--- but this first one Dean takes for himself. Sam lets him, surprised.

#happy wincest wednesday #the full house of wincest #answers #that wasn't what you were looking for i think #but it's what i got #i'm a big fan of kisses coming well after orgasms #it's more. fraught i guess

[hellcheer-heaven]

Eddie has been making fake moaning sounds at school. The moans are often exaggerated and high pitched, like something out of a dirty movie. He’ll do it during class, in the hall, the library, etc. Even his friends have been doing it as well. Seeing people’s weirded/grossed out reactions is always good for a laugh. Chrissy has been getting severely annoyed with it, knowing that if she reacts Eddie will continue to bug her. One late afternoon at the school’s library, the two of them are working on their homework for chemistry. Eddie is bored out of his skull, twirling his pencil between his fingers rather than answer the questions. Meanwhile Chrissy is hard at work reading and writing down her notes.

Eddie smirks deviously, scooching closer until his lips are close to her ear. Before he can even utter that stupid noise, Chrissy grabs him by his curls. Pressing her lips to his ear, nuzzling and smooching it before she parts her lips and lets out a soft moan. Eddie feels as if he’s about to combust, his heart striking his rib cage with each pulsating beat. The moan was so brief and short, yet so incredibly powerful. Chrissy releases him and goes right back to work. Meanwhile Eddie is red as a tomato, unsure of how to process what just happened.

#hellcheer #eddissy #munningham #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer blurb

[softerhaze]

*obnoxious and gross smooching noises*

#ts4 #*ts4gameplay #*pheebs #z #*lou #pheebs has a cabin now and lou may or may not live with them...who's to say for sure #his temperaments are the WORST though i can't stand this man #*sunday save #*sunday save gen 1

[tired-biscuit]

skincare with naruto💁🏻‍♀️✨ lol imagine a scenario where reader wants to take care of naruto’s skin but he keeps on refusing because it’s “too girly” but reader remains persistent and once her palms reaches his cheeks and massages them, he instantly melts under her touch. gah! imagine naruto with a fluffy pink cloth headband🥹💕💕

oml, that'd be so cute!!

I can just see him - sitting on the floor cross-legged, with his hair pulled back by a cotton-candy pink headband and a little glare tugging his eyebrows together, so that the little 'v' in-between turns prominent everytime he looks up at you.

Naruto would immediately begin to grumble under his breath as soon as your hands went anywhere near his face. He keeps rolling his eyes and sighing as you foam up the cleanser to clean his face better, even though it feels nice and he secretly likes it [you know that he does - it's obvious.]

When you lean in closer, he blushes at the close proximity, despite that you've been his girlfriend for over three months now.

You're able to feel the heat of his bashfulness as it nearly sizzles underneath the tips of your fingers. It grows more profound with every circle you lazily rub into his cheeks; your hands smooth whilst they go over his rough stubble. Even the tips of his ears are searing bright red when you tell him that he needs to shave soon, because the prickle which continues scraping your skin makes you ticklish.

It makes you ticklish all over, in fact. Even on the inner-side of your thighs, when his head winds up in-between your legs late at night, and his cheeks keep rubbing against the tender skin.

He definitely stares at your tits while you're pushing forward to get a better hold on him, because they're literally there; right in front of his nose, and now he's thinking about your legs wrapping around his head because you gave him the idea in the first place by telling him that he needs to shave. It's turning him goddamn flustered; to the point that he feels slightly dizzy.

He tries to turn away when you catch him ogling, his fussy muttering about how, "This is completely unnecessary. I'm a man, I literally don't need this!" - making you laugh until your stomach begins to hurt.

"I wasn't looking."

"Sure, you weren't."

"I wasn't, I swear!"

"Mhm."

"Ugh, stop!"

He keeps telling you that the 'stuff' you're putting on his face feels icky and gross, even though he low-key likes how fresh it smells and the way it moisturizes his skin; to the point where it feels less dry and taut than it normally does. He's content with being pampered, but he'll never tell you that.

He tries to touch his face when he grows bored though, forcing you to keep swatting his hands away at every single attempt he makes. The bridge of his nose scrunches up at how dewy his skin feels as you apply the toner and moisturizer. Naruto keeps making faces the entire time, despite that he's leaning further into your hand like a satisfied kitty whenever you touch him with the cotton pad. All he has left to do is purr.

It feels somewhat intimate when your gazes lock at some point, despite the cutesy, playful demeanors you're both sporting. Like you're building your relationship sturdier in a way, this specific moment gains inexplicable significance for the both of you.

You're taking care of him like this; showing him that he matters. He cherishes it more deeply than you realize.

As soon as you're done, you pull him close and press a big, fat smooch on his lips that makes a vulgar smacking noise when you part.

"My pretty boy."

It's like a reward for the both of you.

#naruto x y/n #naruto uzumaki #naruto x reader #naruto x you #naruto headcanons #naruto fluff #naruto

[peony-pearl]

Azula, Ty Lee and Mai are playing in the courtyard. They don't see the Yu Yan archers on top of the palace, but Azula knows they're there. Uncle enlisted them the day Zion was announced as his heir.

The girls see Fire Lord Azulon and Iroh make their way through the courtyard, they gently nudge a few turtleducks off of the walking path as they return from an outing in the Capitol.

Ty Lee looks at Azula. "Why does your uncle have a sling? Is something wrong with his arm?"

Mai sighs. "His arm isn't even in it."

"Oh," Ty Lee blinks. Azula tries to shrug the subject away.

"It's just Uncle's new baby; anyway I think next we should-"

"THE BABY!! IT'S ZION!!" Ty Lee exclaims. Azula groans, having hoped this wouldn't happen. Ty Lee, however, had hoped to catch a glimpse of the new future Fire Lord - after all, it was exciting to hear that, after generations, they would grow to serve a lady instead of a lord. "Do you think he'd let me see her?"

"Oh please," Azula said. "He'd tell you everything she did today if you let him. And all she does is sleep and whine and burp."

Ty Lee makes a break for the older men, and Mai pats Azula's back in condolences. They watch Ty Lee bow, and Iroh kneels down to let the girl get a glimpse of the crown princess, at which Ty Lee dances in place in excitement.

"Agni, she's so embarrassing," Mai drones.

They watch, exasperated, as Iroh puts the infant into Ty Lee's arms; then...

Then Iroh and Ty Lee nod to each other, and Ty Lee returns to the group, gleefully holding Zion.

"WHAT IS SHE DOING." Azula seethes through gritted teeth.

"Thank you for watching her, Azula! I truly appreciate you!" Iroh calls out to his niece.

Ty Lee rejoins the group and plops back onto the grass, happily talking to the baby before addressing her friends. "He's letting me watch her!"

Azula flopped over onto the ground. Mai looked at the baby as she peered her way as well.

"Red eyes. Cool," Mai said. Azula sat back up; she glared at Zion.

"We have a lot of games left to play so don't make too much noise."

"Azula! Be nice!" Ty Lee admonishes. "Babies are very receptive."

Azula shrugs. "She's my cousin, I'm allowed to talk to her like that. Right, dum-dum?"

Zion blinks; and then she smiles and squeals.

"Aww!" Ty Lee gushed. "She thinks you're funny!"

"I am NOT funny," Azula told Zion as she happily reached for her cousin. "I'm VERY scary!" She then insists, leaping to her feet to tower over Zion with a growling snarl.

But Zion could only respond with a hearty laugh and a gurgling response as she tried to mimic Azula's ferocity.

"Ugh! You're supposed to be scared!" Azula scolded.

Ty Lee shrugged. "It's like I told you, babies are very receptive. If she sensed that you were actually malicious, she would have responded as such."

"Oh really?" Mai asked skeptically.

Ty Lee nodded. "Babies have instincts we'll never know because we forget them! I heard there's still being discoveries made!" She then leaned in to whisper. "Did you know they can smell fear?"

The trio looked to Zion as she contentedly, and very enthusiastically, burbled some spit bubbles.

"... okay." Azula sighed.

Mai's nose wrinkled. "Babies are so gross. I'm never having any."

Azula grinned. "Oh well then I guess you'll never get to marry Zuko~"

"Shut up, Azula!"

"Because when you marry into the royal family you have to have at least one baby to continue the family! So it sounds like you won't get to smooch my dumb brother!"

"Knock it off!" Mai blushed as Azula teased her with kissing noises.

"I wouldn't mind having at least one," Ty Lee said. Azula looked at her in confusion.

"From the way you were going on, I would think you'd want a big family."

Ty Lee's smile softened. "No... I think one or two is enough. I think I could give enough attention to two at least."

Azula could feel the subject turning her way.

"Maybe when Zion becomes Fire Lord she won't make you have kids to marry Zuzu, Mai."

Azula reached forward to squeeze Zion's cheeks, making it appear like she was speaking.

"I decree no one has to have kids to marry my big dummy cousin!"

Mai giggled.

"Why, Fire Lord Zion, you have my everlasting thanks," she said bowing to the infant, who gurgled happily in return. "Because I have to say, I'm not impressed with this whole squealing, drooling thing. You’re kind of gross."

Azula returned to narrating for Zion, squeezing her cheeks: "WHAT?? TO THE PYRE WITH YOU!"

Mai dramatically stood up to run, and Ty Lee and Azula chased her, carefully holding Zion as though she was leading the charge as the lot of them laughed harder than Azula had thought they would.

#atla #Azula #Ty Lee #Mai #atla oc #Zion #I just wanted to do something with the girls and baby Zion #I wasn't sure about the ending but eh lol #it wasn't meant to be deep it's meant to be cute and silly #honestly I mostly wrote it because of Ty Lee's 'babies can smell fear' line because it's such an image in my head #her being very serious as she says this and Zion is blowing spit bubbles and Mai and Azula are like 'ah' #my writing #also I was def giving Priya (Turning Red) vibes to Mai lmao