#and she has a bowling dress Like....she probably does this often

[viveela]

That bowling dress is super cute

#veearts #julie joyful #welcome home puppet show #welcome home #wh fanart #eddie dear #spoilers? I think maybe idk #but I'ma talk about a hidden thingy so stop reading if u r still looking #listen. it's the way Eddie struggled delivering her bowling balls in that one audio #and she has a bowling dress Like....she probably does this often #ik it's a stretch but I'd like to imagine her being absurdly strong w ease #let me dream lol #fan art

[pirateprincessblog]

Read For Me 》 P. Seonghwa

NEW! Read the ongoing full version on Wattpad!

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔:

One

Two

Three (new!)

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: books, fanfictions, TV shows and games took your excitement about real life away. nothing has your heart beating fast, everything is pretty much the same and dull to you. nobody could pull you out of your void of fantasy for a long time. still, your best friend decides to try one last time. she does succeed, but not in the way she meant. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: psh x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.9k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, best friend's father seonghwa 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, unprotected sex 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: in my dilf atz phase.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

༻♡༺

Buried into your books and the void of the fantasy world, you had little to no excitement left in your body for the real life events. They lacked... something. Everything was awkward, miscalculated, weird and stiff. In books, the world was so fluid. Tension, passion, strong emotions like love and hate were on almost all pages. It filled your empty memories and fantasies just right. You now wished to drop out of college, buy a castle, run into a mysterious higher vampire and be the reason he exists as a good person now. Or maybe succeed in going through the wall and ending up on Platform 9¾, preferably face first into Cedric Diggory's chest.

Erotica isn't foreign to you either. They say the dirtiest ones are usually the virgins. And they weren't wrong. The amount of frustration trapped in you did you no good. You used to wonder how your male friends could do it so often, but once you got a taste of that side, you understood better than anyone. Countless nights of your fingers working on all your sensitive buds had you only wishing for more, even after release. It just wasn't enough. You hoped for a miracle every single time. You hoped that one of the men from your fantasies would appear in your room and satisfy you just how you wanted. Wouldn't it be just perfect if Henry Cavill appeared in the room? Preferably in his Witcher costume? If not him, then Lee Dong Wook would do equally good.

You drop your book on the bed. Your eyes skimmed over words, but you didn't pay attention to a single thing that was written. You decide to take a break from reading. Maybe you could even drink your first glass of water today. The sun was almost setting, yet you only had a bowl of cereal and half of a pizza slice. You glance at the clock. You despised it. It only reminded you of how fast time flies. You didn't even get to the steamy part of your fantasy, yet you already had to get dressed and wait for your friend in the driveway.

Your college best friend is back from her seasonal vacation in the Alps. Or was it Greece this time? It didn't even matter. It seemed like they only went to keep the tradition, not because they wanted to. She was probably richer than the whole college combined, yet she didn't know where to use all her fortune. So she settled for buying presents for her friends, which is why you now have a full wall covered with books and collectible figures and movie props.

Thirty minutes later, you are outside, your eyes searching for a black Mercedes with light up wheels and a suspicious looking driver. All three of their bodyguards were funny. They weren't as they described them in books. Her bodyguards were stiff, bland, and didn't say more than a greeting. You didn't exactly expect them to flirt with you any chance they get like you were used to on the pages, but the behaviour was still a disappointment for you.

Chills run up your spine as you watch the sun set. You regret picking out the outfit you are wearing. As if you weren't aware that the summer days are far behind. You wore the dress you got from her last trip to Paris. She had a great fashion sense and loved fashion in general, and to turn down her clothes meant a heartbreak for her.

"As soon as I saw it, I thought: her."

The way she described how she found it was amusing to you. It was knee-length and had long see-through sleeves. You felt the prettiest in it.

Finally, you heard the familiar engine. You didn't even have to look. The vehicle pulled up in front of you, and before the driver could get out, the door opened. A tall masculine figure stepped out of the car, and opened the door all the way for you. You feel chills run up your spine once again, this time not from the cold, but from the sight in front of you.

The man in front of you was absolutely stunning. He had the sparkliest and biggest eyes you had ever seen, broad shoulders, a confident smirk and-

"Dad, stop messing with her! She will think she is going to get kidnapped!" Your friend's voice yelled from inside the car.

You gulped, eyes still not leaving his face. In the three years of your friendship with her, you never saw her parents. Especially her father. Not even on photos. So, naturally, you'd need time to recover from this shock.

"Whenever you are ready."

The man politely bowed his head towards the seats, then stepped back so he could close the door after you. He sat in the front seat, then nodded towards the driver as a sign to turn on the engine.

The ride was peaceful, if you exclude your friend's nails clicking against the phone screen.

"I hear you like books." The words drip from his lips like honey.

You blush at simple eye contact through the rear mirror. His gaze has your fingers playing in your lap and your thighs pressed together.

He is so hot.

"I do, Mr Park."

"That's lovely. It's rare to find people in younger generations that enjoy reading. They mainly use it as a reason to bully someone."

"It truly is," you confirm, wanting to keep the conversation going. "You enjoy books too, Sir?"

Fathers of your other friends usually tell you to call them by their names. But not Park Seonghwa. He sure as fuck is not like other fathers you've met. You don't remember the last time your cheeks felt so hot because of someone.

"Of course. I have a whole library in my house. You are free to see it if you wish. My sweet social daughter will show you. Won't you, darling?"

His gaze switches to your friend, who is too invested in the ongoing conversation on her phone to pay attention to the one happening in real life.

"Sure, sure."

Park Seonghwa shook his head with a chuckle, then sat back in silence. You looked around you. The girl next to you was dressed beautifully as usual. It surprised you how she could make all those weird elements feel so ordinary and pretty. You, on the other hand, struggled to pair the jeans and a top. You barely figured out which shoes went with the dress. You felt underdressed. Her father wore a suit, and she had an elegant short blazer which matched her trousers, paired up with heels and a matching purse. You had a phone in your hand and a tote bag with your pajamas for the night. And a jacket to keep you warm. It didn't go with the outfit you had poorly put together at all. You wanted to run back home and wear something more fitting for the house you'll be staying in for a day or two.

You were in it once. You felt ridiculously small inside it. The ceilings were so high, dazzling chandeliers hanging from them. The windows were tall and in a minimalistic style. You only wondered how much time it took to clean them. They had all sorts of things you thought were unnecessary. Like a pool. The beach was just fifteen minutes away, the pool was there just to show off. So many bedrooms also had you confused. Since Spring, only two people live there now; your friend and her father. The mother filed for a divorce as she found love in a tourist from Poland. Poor Mr Park.

"Let's go," your friend finally put the phone away.

It took you a few moments to take in all the differences that were made. The portrait of a woman and a child above the fireplace was now gone and replaced with one of the man you just met and a young lady in which you found a sister 3 years ago.

"Anyone want my famous fig cheese prosciutto bites?" The man held a silver plate full of the said bites in front of the girls.

"No, dad, disgusting. Fruit and meat?"

"Growing up this spoiled one would think your taste in food would get better. Chicken nuggets don't really pass as an appetiser meal."

You watch with amusement as the two exchange a few funny grimaces, before your friend makes her way towards her room. "You eat some of that, since I know damn well you didn't eat shit today."

"I so did."

"You're so lying, bitch."

You laugh, ready to throw the word right back at her, when you feel Mr Park's gaze on you.

"Cuss her out all you want. It is none of my business."

"No, no. It's not quite appropriate for someone to talk like that."

In front of you, you add in your mind.

He hums, then smiles at you. "Bite?"

"I'd love to."

It takes only an eyebrow raise from him to let you know that you could've worded it better.

"I mean, I'd love one."

You take one from the plate, then admire it. Were you supposed to shove the whole thing in your mouth? Maybe pull it apart and eat it in rows? Bite into it?

"I don't usually try to poison my daughter's friends, doll. Just enjoy it. If we don't eat these tonight, they will go bad and I'll have to throw them away."

The little nickname slip had your toes wiggling in your shoes. He is so effortlessly breathtaking. Seeing that you're still struggling with the food, he takes one bite in his hand. He removes the toothpick holding the ingredients together, then steps towards you.

Every thought you had in your mind until then disappeared. Park Seonghwa gently cupped your lower jaw, and you relax into his touch. You look straight into his eyes as he puts the food between your lips. When you fail to move on your own, he smirks with amusement. Two fingers gently push the food into your mouth, resting on your tongue for a split second.

"Can you chew that for me?"

You feel your core throb. You feel fragile and weak under his touch. Most of all, you feel horny for your friend's dad. You remember to blink, then start chewing on the delicious food. He does not avert his eyes as you do so. Once you made sure to chew enough times, you finally swallow. A satisfied smile decorated his face as his thumb caressed your cheek, hand still cupping your jaw.

"Good girl."

You think you see stars. Park Seonghwa has an impact nobody ever had on you. And lots of them tried. Park Seonghwa didn't even need to try. He just - existed.

The man lets go of your face, then silently makes his way towards his room. At least you assume it is his room. He walked away so calmly, almost making you think you imagined what had just happened. Your face suddenly feels empty and cold without his touch. He had you in a chokehold with a simple touch and a smile.

You almost forget about your best friend waiting in her room. You hope your blushing won't betray you. After all, she must be tired of people wanting to fuck her dad.

Your conversations and jokes don't stop until after midnight. By now, you've had a stand-up show, a few episodes of your favorite TV show, a few funny clips of your favorite artists, and a fashion show. You are exhausted, almost ready for bed. Almost. You still need to get the frustration out somehow. The younger girl is more than ready for bed. The moment her head touched the pillow, she was out of this world. You laugh at her smeared makeup, then reach for the box of wet wipes. You gently clean her face, then try to do her usual routine. You don't remember it, but you try your best.

You make your way to her tall mirror, ready to clean your face too. If your best friend didn't study and work with fashion, she would surely be a makeup artist. It's a pity that you have to wipe down the art she created. Your hands fall down, and your eyes skim over your outfit and hair. She made you wear the brand new lingerie she got for her birthday as a joke. It was funny when they were in her hands, but you'll never forget the gasp that came out of her when you stepped out of the big wardrobe.

"Wanna scissor?"

You'd be up to try it, just not with her. Not while you have her dad on your mind. Perhaps- perhaps you could suddenly get thirsty and go to the kitchen dressed like that? The lingerie was now hidden under a short silver silk dress she wore for her ex boyfriend's birthday party. It looked plain and stupid, but the young girl had the power to turn it into something jaw dropping. Paired with silver heels and dazzling makeup, you looked ready for, well, someone to destroy it.

You open the door, then slowly step in the hallway. The girl explained that Mr Park's room is at the end of the hallway, but you cannot just walk in and expect something to happen. Maybe he simply liked teasing. Maybe he never responds to all those calls for pleasure. He is surely aware of what an impact he has on people, and maybe he finds it amusing. You still have a shot to see for yourself.

You drink a glass of water. Then another one. He isn't here. He must be asleep already. He is a hard working man after all. All this didn't come into his life easily. God, good looking and hard-working? He must be the whole package. Who in their right mind would leave a man like this? Perhaps she couldn't keep up with his sex drive. You hope.

You set the glass aside, and examine the kitchen again. Many drinks decorated the shelves, along with luxurious looking glasses and other glass decorations. You could only dream of having a home like this. You could probably afford a single spoon from the bottom drawer. You just couldn't wait to meet your soul mate and force your brilliant ideas on them. After all, you have a gift for that. Decorating, I mean. Not the forcing part.

You feel less sleepy now that you've drank so much water. You wander around the living room for a while, hoping he would come down at any moment. Yet it still doesn't happen. Your feet carry you to the door near the staircase. You slowly open it, then look around. With your luck, he will come down now that you are snooping around his home. He better stay asleep now.

You step inside, debating whether to turn on the lights. Fuck it, you think. Your hand finds the light switch on the cold wall. You squint at the sudden brightness. It takes a while for your eyes to get used to it, but when they do, all you can do is gasp.

The walls were covered with antique bookshelves, each filled with books from top to bottom. They were divided in sections, and they had the most beautiful covers and spines you've ever seen. You step inside, closing the door behind. The room was endless rows of fantasy, sci-fi, romance, poetry, educational books, and-

Erotica.

Fuck, lots of erotica. A whole wall, maybe even two, dedicated to the sinful delight. You didn't even need to check if you're right. You'd recognise some of those spines even in darkness. A single desk is placed in the middle of the room, along with a comfortable looking chair. Pens and notebooks are neatly placed in the top corner, and a book rests at the edge. A suit jacket, most probably Mr Park's, is placed over the backrest. The room was organised, clean, and smelled like sandalwood mixed with jasmine. It was pleasant enough to just stand there. Yet the curiosity got the best (or worst) of you, as it always did.

The smell of books takes over your senses. You feel the worn out spines and edges under your fingertips. He has them all: from the very first romance novels with the very first sex scenes to steamy books who had sex written all over them. You weren't sure which ones you liked more. You only knew that you'd settle for anything just to get a little taste.

Your gaze falls on the book which laid on the desk. His most recent read, perhaps? It still had a bookmark, you notice. You sit on the chair, and almost sink into it from the softness. You close your eyes, inhaling all the scents you can. You sense a hint of bourbon. Even his scent makes your lower stomach burn with unreleased sensation.

You take the book into your hands, then turn it over. The summary made your curiosity even worse, and you could forget about sleep for at least two more hours. You lean back, put your feet on the desk, and happily start with the book. It has a plot, of course, but currently? You couldn't give a single fuck about it. But you aren't one to skip pages just to get to a certain point in the story. So you force yourself to read through the little boring descriptions. In the corner of your eye, you spot a box of tissues peeking out of the bottom drawers. You see no other chairs around here. It means that nobody enters the room.

A man and a box of tissues mean only one thing.

You sigh at the picture that forms in your head. You see Mr Park sitting on the chair. He is wearing his suit vest, a book in his hand and legs spread comfortably. His other hand is wrapped around his cock, which you know is thick. Your eyes have dropped down there once or twice. He is lazily stroking himself, his attention still fully on the book. There is just something so fucking hot about watching a man satisfy himself.

You feel your throat go dry. You open your eyes, ready to put the book away and try to go to sleep. Yet the plot has just started to get steamy. You sit back once again, the book in your hand not getting any rest tonight. Your eyes skim over the hot descriptions, each making you more flustered. The thought of Park Seonghwa reading this is driving you crazy.

Nicholas has waited for this moment for months, yet it felt like years to him. He would use every second of it, and he will be the best she ever had.

He worshipped her all night long, explored her body with his tongue, whispered sweet nothings into her ear, and grabbed at anything he could. He devoured her, his wet muscle tirelessly working on her sensitive bud. Her cries of pleasure had him cumming in his own pants, yet he didn't care. He existed for her, and her only.

Was it too much to ask for a simple eating out? You wonder how it feels. You had one, a long time ago. Along with a messy first time. God, the second time might've been ever messier. None of it was enjoyable. You too wanted to be manhandled. You too wanted to be worshipped. You wanted someone to tirelessly eat you out until you cream. And scream.

You groan. Continuing will do you no good, but going to sleep is impossible. You could rub out a quick one and then try to rest. Wouldn't be your first time. You feel yourself dripping through your panties. All these descriptions have your head spinning. You reach for the box of tissues. The last thing you needed was to leave evidence that you snooped around. If you're going to leave one, it better not be an arousal stain on the chair.

You pull the drawer so you can take the box out easier. If your jaw could drop to the floor, it probably would. Deeper in the drawer laid a purple gadget. You knew very well what it was. You were never brave enough to get one for yourself. Your parents liked to snoop a lot, and just now you realise where you got it from. He didn't use it on anyone, did he? Your friend did not mention any women near Mr Park. Besides, it feels good for men too.

You carefully take out the wand. It looks brand new, the see through film still wrapped around the head. It could help you out. You'd be finished even quicker. Nobody will ever know. You cannot afford it anymore anyway, so wasting an opportunity like this seems like a shame to you.

You put each leg over the armrests, then lay back comfortably. You press a button. The buzzing sound has your stomach filled with excitement. You resume the reading, the wand dangerously close to your crotch. You didn't remove the film, nor will you remove the panties. If someone barges in, you can throw it in the drawer and act stupid.

You bring the buzzing device closer, and closer, until it finally touches your burning clit. A gasp leaves your lips, the first vibrations giving you the satisfaction you needed. You try to focus on the words, yet the toy feels so good against you that you choose to drop the book and enjoy. You throw your head back, sighs and hums leaving your mouth as you work the toy on your clit. Your mind is clouded with thoughts of a single man. He is so close, yet so far. The scent from his vest is helping you get a clearer picture. He is skillfully working his fingers on you, filling you up just right and licking your juices off his hand so sinfully.

You groan. The vibrations are strong against you, and you don't think you can take it. You are not used to it. Fingers will have to do. You blindly search for the button. When you fail to find it, you open your eyes.

"Fuck-"

The rest of the words come out muffled. A hand is placed over your lips, and another one is covering yours on the wand. You shamelessly stare into the eyes of the man you want to fuck so bad. Judging by his gaze, you think he shares the idea. Without a single word, he presses the toy back into your clit. You sigh into his hand, head falling back and your back arching. You try to close your eyes, but a slap to your inner thigh makes you jump.

"Look at me."

You do as you are told. He does not avert his gaze, not even when you beg him to stop. You are feeling overstimulated, even though you did not orgasm.

"Found yourself a book to read?" He asks, eyes falling on it.

You nod. Now you know why the scent was stronger in the room. How long was he there?

"Come here."

He removes his hand from your face. You are taken aback by his demands. It is turning you on even more. With a single swipe, he drops all the pens and notebooks from the desk on the floor.

"You like wearing cute little dresses and parading around the house?"

"I wasn't-"

"I didn't say I didn't enjoy it." He licks his lips. His hands cup your waist, and you feel your body rise up. He places you on the desk, then rests his hands on your knees. In the most erotic way ever, he looks deep into your eyes, then gently spreads your legs. You want to melt into his arms right there. Mr Park steps between your thighs, hands resting on your cheeks.

"You look so innocent. So pretty for me to ruin."

You say nothing. Instead, you get closer to him. You wish to feel his lips. You wish to feel his tongue in many places.

"But you are far from innocent, aren't you? Probably the biggest slut I've ever met."

"Sir-"

"I don't fuck my daughter's friends, you know."

He places a hand on your chest, gently pushing you to lay down on the desk. He climbs on it with one knee, hand still caressing your cheek.

"Didn't promise anything about best friends though."

His lips hover above yours for a while. He is making it painful for you. He is making you beg. And you are ready to go down on your knees for him.

"I want to fucking ruin you, doll. I want to do all the things you've read about." He whispers into your mouth. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips, accidentally touching yours too. "I want to pound into you as you read your favorite book and struggle to focus. I want to tear you apart right on this desk."

You moan at his words. You swear you could cum from his dirty talk only.

"Will you let me get a taste of you?"

You nod eagerly. He chuckles, then presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. He is looking into your eyes in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together so you can get some friction.

"I need to hear you, love."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"I'll let you get a taste of me," you repeat. It didn't sound as hot as when he said it. It didn't matter anyway.

Time passed so slow. You had an orgasm to chase, yet Park Seonghwa wouldn't move a single finger.

"Will you let me smear that pretty makeup of yours?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Will you let me stuff you with my cock like a good girl?"

"Y-yes, Sir," you breathe out. The formality is only adding up to the mood. First names are outdone anyway.

"And will you do as I say?"

"Yes," you nod, "yes I will. Anything."

"Anything?" He asks, his eyebrow raised.

"Anything, Sir."

Just when you think he is going to press his lips against yours, he reaches for something behind you. He holds the book in front of you, signaling you to take it.

"Read for me."

Read? It's erotica, not a bedtime story. Yet how can you say no when he asked you so nicely. You clear your throat, then continue where you left off.

"Nicholas held her thighs down to keep her from squirming. His tongue lapped at her clit without stopping. She begged, and begged for - oh!"

The buzzing device is spreading sensation on your clit. You look over the book, and find Mr Park focusing on the space between your legs. He is lazily dragging the wand across your crotch, occasionally pressing into the sensitive bud.

"Keep going," he ordered.

"S-she begged, and begged for more. She had cummed twice on his tongue already. Yet he didn't have enough. He wanted to watch her shake in his arms, beg ‐ ah, ‐ beg for him to stop. Nicholas then inserts his fingers into her, the tips searching for the sweet spot which - f‐fuck - had her groaning with pleasure."

The speed is increased, and your thighs are shaking. You think you're close already.

"I don't think I can handle it much longer." You say.

"I didn't ask."

With that, he increases the speed, this time dragging the toy more forcefully on your crotch. You could spill over the edge at any moment. You want to orgasm with his fingers, not a stupid toy.

"The books isn't going to read itself."

"She held onto his hair for dear life. The pressure was building up at the bottom, and- ah, fuck ‐ and, and-"

"And?"

"I'm going to cum," you cry out.

"I don't remember that being in that scene yet."

"Please-"

"Read."

Your eyes fall back on the words. You just want to lay down and enjoy. Why does he enjoy teasing so much? It's not as fun as it looks or sounds.

"‐and she could feel herself cumming all over his face once again."

You lower the book, just enough so you can look at him. He is focused on his movements. His long, slender fingers are gently pressing your thigh against the wooden surface, while his other hand is working the toy on you. The vibrations change speed and strength, and that's what's keeping you from finishing right in front of him. His tongue wets his lips again, and his lips stay open. He lets out shallow breaths as he watches you clench around nothing.

"Look at you, shamelessly dripping on my work desk." He says, his voice low and raspy. He looks into your eyes, right before he lifts the toy.

He does not break eye contact with you. He climbs on the desk again, spreading your legs with his own and resting his hand on your exposed lower stomach. His hand is hot against your skin. You are ready to give yourself to him in any way.

"You like the book so far?"

"Yes, Sir."

He drags his hand up your stomach, lifting your dress along the way. He takes his sweet time, doing nothing but giving you goosebumps and making your breathing harder. The dress is now scrunched above your breasts, your friend's brand new lingerie completely exposed to his big pupils. It was an ugly colour, but somehow, Mr Park seemed astonished by the view.

"Ah, fuck."

You feel your bra being yanked down, and right after that a warm wet muscle circling over your tense nipples. A gasp leaves your mouth. Then another, and another, with each lick he generously gives you. He squeezes your breasts, massages them, works his tongue on them like it's the most delicious meal in the world. You swear you could orgasm just from this.

Mr Park allows himself to get a bit vocal. He hums around your nipples, gently sucking at them and squeezing the soft flesh around them. He enjoys your squirming under him. He enjoys your moans and gasps. He enjoys your fingers pulling his hair. Most of all, he enjoys how you lift your thighs up and try to meet his crotch, in hopes of getting more relief down there.

He lifts his head from your sensitive breasts, and gets closer to your face. His breathing is heavy against your mouth, and you can almost feel his heart thumping against your chest.

"Tell me, what is your favorite scene from the book?"

"What?" You ask, confused as to why he is insisting on reading and talking about the book.

"You heard me," he speaks into your mouth. He is so close, yet he doesn't dare touch your lips. It's making you extremely frustrating. You wanted to taste the lips that spoke sinful words. You want all of him.

"Well, I kinda liked the first time he fingered her."

"Did you now?" He acts interested. His eyebrow is raised with amusement because of your utter confusion.

"Yeah, I mean, it was hot as fuck. Him fingering her right there in the corner of the club? I swear I'd — oh."

His finger dips inside of you with ease. Your walls swallow it, clench around it, and feel warm against it. Mr Park is lets out a groan. Still, he continues, still looking into your eyes. "What exactly did he do?"

"He made out with her. And fingered her."

"That's all?"

His finger is not moving. It sits there comfortably, enjoying the warmth of your pussy. He licks his lips for the third time that night. He is fighting every urge inside him to just slam his cock into you and ruin you on the table. He wants to enjoy everything you want to give him.

"H-he—" your eyes roll back as he gently presses his finger upwards, "he uses one finger first, to get her used to it. He fingers her slow, and- and‐"

The man slowly pulls out, then equally slowly goes back in. He repeats the motion, and each time it seems slower to you. It is more intense, but you don't think you have the patience.

"He inserts another finger, to stretch her out. He speeds up a bit, and asks her- ah, fuck, asks her if it feels good."

Mr Park leans into your ear. "Does it feel good?"

"Oh, fuck yes."

You feel another finger stretching you our, then another. He watches as his fingers disappear between your tight walls, preparing you so well for him. He speeds up his pace. The sounds of his palm slamming against your pelvis along with your cunt making wet noises is making you arch your back from the table. You shamelessly moan into his mouth, hands grabbing at his shoulders, hair, face, anything.

You are pulled away from the world of ecstasy. You find yourself sitting up straight, your wrists caught in his hand. You are ready to whine about being so close, yet he stops you by pulling you off the desk. The dress falls down your body, covering it once again. The man pulls you off the table, and in a split second, he has you slammed against the bookshelves. You are ready to complain, but he stops you by slamming his palms against the shelves near your head. He looks at you, as if asking if you still want it. You respond by getting closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn't pull away. Instead, he captures your lips with his, hungrily sucking on them and biting them. His tongue is gentle against yours, giving it light strokes and circles. Your fingers find themselves tangled into his hair, then down his neck, shoulders, until they finally rest on his chest. He stops your hands from unbuttoning his snow white shirt. He pulls away too quickly for your liking.

You stare with surprise as he drops down on his knees. Fuck, you love the way he looks at you from down there. His fingers graze the skin of your thighs, then gently lift up the dress.

"Hold that for me." He orders in a whisper. You quickly obey, grabbing the material and holding it above your lower stomach. "Then what happened?"

"The guy took her outside, behind the club. He made her stand against the wall, much like me now. And then—"

You now realise what he is doing. He is recreating the scenes you have just read. He is fulfilling your fantasy. He is doing just what you always wanted, and he doesn't even know it. A sudden boost of confidence enters your body. You could drop a few lines that weren't in the book. He wouldn't notice now, would je?

"He ate her out."

"Did he?" He asks, voice dripping with horny thoughts said out loud. "And just how did he do that?"

"He licked every inch of her skin, explored every curve and bump, and sucked on a specific spot."

The man smirks, then pokes his tongue out. You finally get a chance to see exactly how long it is. He licks a warm stripe over your folds and clit. Your knees are wobbly, and you wish you could've stayed sat down. His hands are gripping you thighs, buttocks, and the back of your knees. He is fully focused into absolutely ravishing you.

He mercilessly licks your clit, each swipe making you more sensitive. He works it up and down, then in circles, then flattens the wet muscle so that he can take in all of you. He makes lewd noises, almost slurping at your arousal and folds.

"So heavenly," he groans. He hums as he speeds up his tongue against your clit.

Short moans leave your mouth, and you find yourself gripping your nipples over the shiny fabric. You pull and squeeze his hair between your finger, and you think you'll choke him with your thighs. He doesn't complain once.

"I'm close—" you whimper, white dots already appearing in front of your eyes.

It was as if you said "stop". He stands up, hand resting on your jaw. He lifts your head to look at him. His lips are glistening with your arousal, and you think it's the hottest thing ever. He dips his thumb and index finger into your cheeks, making you hollow them and open your mouth. He leans in, and just when you think he is about to kiss you, two fingers find themselves resting on your tongue. He proceeds to push them back, right at the end of your tongue. You tear up, but don't gag. He is very distracting with his stare.

You close your lips around his fingers, tongue circling around them and wetting them. He takes them out, puts them in his own mouth. He steps back for a bit, and you carefully follow his every movement. He rips the fabric of his shirt, and buttons drop down on the floor. The sight has you dripping down your legs. You don't get a chance to say much, he pushes you against the desk, this time with you facing the surface. You feel the wet digits spread your folds. You then feel a wet trail rolling down your pussy.

Did he—? Did he spit directly on your pussy?

You hear the belt unbuckling, then fabric shuffling. Something hot touches your other cheeks, gently caressing them and leaving a trail of precum. His hand reaches near you, taking the book and opening it where you marked it. It then cups your neck, gently pressing the sides of it just enough to make you dizzy.

"Read for me, doll."

"But-"

He leans down, feeling a bit annoyed at all your protests. "Read for me so I can stuff you with my cock in peace."

You have no other choice but to continue. You feel him circling your folds, but not touching you where you need it.

"Nicholas couldn't believe how long it had been since he last felt her. He pounded into her like there was no tomorrow. His hips forcefully connected with hers— ah!"

You feel him stretch you out. The sweet burning sensation is back, this time actually pleasant. He fills you to the end, hands tightly holding onto your waist and neck. He pulls out, just to slam back into you, much like Nicholas.

"He watched her tits bounce with every hip thrust he m-made, a sight for sore eyes. He fondled her nipples, listened to her moans and watched her face twist wit-th pleasure—"

His hands move your body towards him, making him reach spots that have you gripping the edge of the desk.

"Please let me enjoy this, Mr Park. Oh please, let me."

He pulls your hair, making your back arch and your head fall back. He looks at you from above, hips still working their pace.

"You're saying you're not", thrust, "enjoying this?"

"No, I just—"

"I spoiled you," thrust, "in such a," thrust, "short," thrust, "time."

He proceeds to thrust a few times faster, then slows down. He fucks you nice and gentle, occasionally letting out a grunt or a hiss. He goes deep, making you roll your eyes.

"Look at me," he pulls your hair more.

You whimper, the pleasant pain spreading over your body.

"Look at your pretty makeup running down your cheeks."

He wasn't lying when he said he is going to ruin you. He turns your body over with ease, and you wonder just how strong this man is. Mr Park lifts your legs on his shoulders, the position giving him more access to all the sweet spots. He slams into them with no mercy, abuses every weak spot you have, and fills your mouth with his fingers to keep you quiet. They don't help much, since you are equally loud even when he tries to make you gag.

"Want me to fill you up like a stuffed toy?"

"Please," you manage to beg.

Your eyes roll back from pleasure, and you are feeling like you're floating. You are so close, and if he cums inside you, you will cum right then. Mr Park is now moaning. His hands are gripping your waist, slamming your weaker body into his hips. Sweat is decorating his exposed body, and his hair is sticking up everywhere. Watching him focus on chasing his high is something you'll always remember with love. He is progressively getting sloppier and louder, and you just can't wait to see him cum.

You are squeezing and milking him so well, he could go all night long with you. He lets out a prolonged moan as he spills into you, hips still working in and out. You follow after, the feeling of warm seed touching the right places.

"Fuck—" you moan, moving your hips and riding out your high.

The man drops on top of you, cock still deep inside.

You notice the windows are foggy, and the smell of sex is more than present in the room. You don't want to move. You want more. It just isn't enough.

"Ah fuck, I could go for a second round." He admits.

"I can handle it."

"But I can't so please go to sleep or go fuck outside."

Shit.

#ateez #ateez imagine #ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #Seonghwa #park seonghwa smut #park seonghwa #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa oneshot #ateez oneshot #ateez x female reader #ateez scenario

[ouatsqincorrect]

What are you favourite Regina Headcanons??

i had this whole thing written down in my phone as an answer to this very question and i can’t find it :( it’s a good thing regina lives in my head rent free all the time lol

she’s a total nerd and can absorbe new info pretty quickly. and i’m not just talking about books, history, etc. i’m talking movies and video games, music and art. she’s like an informational sponge. she can tell you ten random shark facts and then go into an entire discussion about the secret to beating space invaders. she listens to classical, alternative, rock, pop. any genre, she doesn’t care. she knows like five languages and picks things up easily enough that she can probably make it in any non-english speaking country. she’s just…constantly learning. she likes anything that can take her away from her mind/this world and she finds learning and experiencing new things does that for her

and speaking of learning new things, she knows how to play the piano and the violin. though she plays the piano more often

one of the drawers in her office desk has a little bowl of candy in it that she keeps stocked. henry’s known about it since he was about 12, emma found out shortly after she and regina started dating, and eventually, the entire family knows and will sneak a piece or two when they visit her at work

she doesn’t sleep much. nightmares are still a recurring problem for her and night is when her thoughts are the loudest. it gets a little better when emma starts spending the night, but obviously those kinds of issues don’t go away just because you love someone. emma helps because she comforts her and there’s someone there to keep her company when she can’t sleep (emma doesn’t sleep much either)

she has more scars than just the one on her lip, but she hides them with magic

she wears contacts during the day but when she reads at night, she wears glasses

as she gets more and more comfortable being herself, she starts to dress a bit more casual. i mean, she’s still regina. so she goes all out no matter what kind of clothes she’s wearing. but she eventually lets herself wear jeans and shirts around the house and is ultimately comfortable one day with being out and about in Storybrooke without being super dressed up

she said for years that she drank her coffee black but that’s a lie. she likes it with milk and sugar. snow feels betrayed when she finds this out

#regina mills #headcanons

[drpeppertummy]

truthfully my friends this isnt something im overly into or experienced in & as such i have Absolutely no idea if its any good or not. godspeed

[alien-esque parasite creature-in-stomach bordering-on-rapid-horror-preg situation, ends in hospital post-surgery bc you know id never let it explode him but the hospital isnt like a whole big thing, nobody has a good time in this but hes fine]

Val was beginning to wonder if eating at that sketchy restaurant in Hell had been a good idea.

Truthfully, he'd known it was a bad idea from the start. He hadn't liked the look of the place when his sister had brought him there, the service had been awful, the food had been worse, and he'd felt a little off ever since. That had been a few days ago, and he was back home now. It was always shockingly cold returning to the mortal world after visiting his family, but he was glad to be back in Connie's arms, even if it meant braving the chilly autumn air.

Exhausted from the busy week behind him, Val flopped down onto the bed. He was freshly showered and dressed in his pajamas, and very glad about it. Connie was taking her turn in the shower now. Sprawled out flat on his back, Val looked down at himself, and his brow furrowed. He hadn't felt quite right ever since visiting that restaurant, and he was still a little bloated. He laid his head back down on the pillow and rested his hands on his belly.

"Looks like your mom stuffed you like a turkey," Connie teased, standing in the doorway. "Does she think you're as skinny as I do?"

"Christ, does she," Val laughed.

"Maybe you oughtta visit more often, let her beef you up a little," she giggled, dropping herself onto the bed next to him.

"I don't think I could handle that," said Val. "You know everyone else in my family is like ten feet tall?" Connie laughed.

"And I bet they feed you like you are too, right?" She placed a hand on his rounded tummy and raised her eyebrows at how firm it felt. "Sheesh, you really feel stuffed."

"Tell you the truth, my sister dragged me out to some weird restaurant a couple days before I left. It was a mess, you never woulda gone in. Whatever I ate didn't sit right, I guess, my stomach's been a little funny ever since. I've spent the past few days feeling like I swallowed a bowling ball."

"Huh," said Connie, rubbing his belly. It gurgled uncomfortably under her hand. "Maybe you got, like, mild food poisoning or something."

"Maybe," he sighed. "Probably."

"Do you feel sick?"

"I don't know. Not quite. Just off. ADR, as they say at the vet. I mean, I definitely feel bloated, I can tell you that much."

"Believe me, you don't have to tell me," she chuckled, patting his belly. It didn't sound hollow, like it was filled with gas. Instead it sounded solid, like patting a rock, and it let out another sickly gurgle. Connie winced sympathetically.

Suddenly, Val sat up. Connie looked up at him, surprised. His face was difficult to read, but he seemed tense. Concerned, she sat up beside him.

"Val, what's the matter?" She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know," he said uncertainly, holding both hands against his tummy. He looked down, brow furrowed. Was he more bloated than before? His stomach felt tighter, and…strange, somehow. Almost as if something inside him was pulsing.

"Maybe you should go to urgent care or something," said Connie. She didn't like the look on his face, and she didn't like that he was still so bloated days after eating whatever he'd eaten.

"I can't go to urgent care. I'm not even human. They wouldn't know what to make of me even if I was feeling fine."

"Yeah, but…I don't know. I'm worried," she said, squeezing his shoulder. Now that he was sitting up, his belly looked even more distended than it had when he was laying, and it was oddly top-heavy, as though whatever was making it so swollen was stuck up in his stomach. She didn't like that at all.

Val couldn't disagree with her point of view. Still, he preferred to avoid letting people find out he wasn't human if he could help it. It was a dangerous secret to reveal, and there had been plenty of times where he'd nearly paid a heavy price for it. He didn't have much time to mull it over, though, because his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a bizarre wave of pain in his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his belly.

"Val!" Connie grabbed his shoulders. Val remained frozen, trying to process what he'd just felt. It was pain, certainly, and pressure, but it almost felt like movement as well. Cautiously, he sat back upright, his breathing shallow and shaky.

"That's it, you're going to the hospital," she said, standing up. Val opened his mouth to protest when another surge of pain shot through him, and this time he definitely felt movement. He doubled over again, gaping like a fish as his belly pushed out against his hands.

Carefully, Connie pulled him to his feet, putting an arm around his waist to hold him steady, and hurried him out of the bedroom. As they walked, she felt something shift under her hand, and for a moment she froze, looking down at him.

"What the fuck was that?"

"I don't--I don't know," he choked out, desperately hugging his middle.

"Let's go," she urged, and practically dragged him out of the house.

Connie hastily put the directions into the GPS and was off like a flash before Val could even finish buckling up. His belly bulged conspicuously over the seatbelt, undeniably rounder than it had been earlier, and whatever was inside was growing restless. A moan of terror escaped him as he watched something move under the skin.

"Connie, I love you," he blurted out, his voice shaking.

"I love you too. Don't talk like you're gonne die. You're not gonna die." She reached out and grabbed his shoulder tightly before returning her hand to the wheel. Val thought she looked like she definitely thought he was going to die.

The pressure inside his stomach was unbelievable, and only seemed to be increasing as whatever was inside continued to move around and grow. It was growing fast now, and he could feel his stomach stretching and straining to contain it. He tried not to think about how far it could stretch before it burst.

"We're almost there," said Connie, trying to reassure herself just as much as him. She glanced over at him and was horrified to see his belly visibly squirming. Suddenly, his belly surged violently, and he let out a hoarse cry as the creature inside him began to thrash, pushing out hard against the walls of his stomach.

"Oh, god, please," he cried out, clutching his belly as his tightly-stretched skin was pulled tighter still. "Oh, please, god, no--"

Val woke up feeling like he'd been run through with a chainsaw. He wasn't sure where he was or what had happened, and he didn't have the strength to care. All he knew was that there was a horrible searing pain in his belly. As he regained consciousness, though, he began to recall the events of the night, and he looked down at himself. His belly was flat. Flat, and bandaged up. He let his head fall back onto the pillow with a sigh of relief.

The surgeon told him that he'd barely made it in time, and that they'd pulled something like a sucker-mouthed chupacabra out of his stomach, and that it was nearly the size of an infant, and that his wife had urged them to just not ask questions, and that after the procedure they were inclined to just roll with that, and that he'd have to stay in the hospital for at least a week. Val groggily accepted all of this information; the surgeon could've told him he'd grown a second head and he'd have nodded along. With his stomach intact, all he cared about now was seeing Connie.

EPILOGUE BECAUSE I CANT WRITE ENDINGS: It took one day for Val to win the hearts of all the nurses with his charm and only five for him to be released--for good behavior, he'd joked. Against all predictions, he recovered surprisingly quickly, although his tummy remained terribly sore for weeks; that was, of course, to be expected. He'd persuaded the hospital to let him ship the creature back to Hell for further evaluation. Astonishingly, they'd managed to get it out alive after sedating it right along with Val, and it had been nicknamed "Fluffy" by the frightened staff who were in charge of keeping it under observation. Fluffy, as it turned out, was a relatively common parasite found in undercooked lava cod, which was exactly what Val had eaten, although most of his fellow demons and devils were built sturdily enough that it wasn't much of a danger to them. Connie, who had been even more shaken up by the incident than her husband, received even more affection from him than usual in the following days. He felt awful for putting her through the experience--he'd expressed this, and she'd incredulously assured him that it wasn't his fault--and he made sure to bake her something special for taking care of him.

#writing #belly kink #tummy kink #i dont even know what to tag this as. enlighten me if u so desire idk #xvalx #xconniex #burst mention #i think its a little dull for what it is Tbh #im out of practice when it comes to writing Scary Frantic Shit

[cope-to-anime]

the hashira as cats 

a/n: this was supposed to be for international cat day but even if it’s posted late I still hope you like it! : ‘ >

tomioka giyuu 

black, long-haired cat with blue eyes 

he’s a super quiet cat 

sleeps all day 

when you can’t find him he’s probably just in the bathroom with his paw dipped in the bathtub water 

flinched often when you tried to touch him when you first got him but now is the one reaching towards you to get your attention 

himejima gyoumei 

huge mackerel blind cat 

has the loudest purr 

loves being with you! he doesn’t follow you around every step you take but instead stays at a comfortable distance 

highly independent and can even turn on sinks on his own 

waits at the door for you to get home 

iguro obanai 

tuxedo cat with heterochromia 

jumps really high and sometimes sleeps on top of cupboards 

pretty hostile to visitors 

incredibly amazed with sliding doors 

will take a lot for him to be happy with you petting him but he likes it when you run the back of your finger on that little spot on his head 

uzui tengen 

persian cat with blue eyes but they almost look silver 

definitely a high maintenance cat 

likes wet food way more than dry food 

instagram cat and he likes it when you dress him up, sometimes nuzzles your hand when he really likes the outfit 

he’s the owner of the house, you just live there actually 

rengoku kyojuro 

white, long-haired cat with the puffiest mane ever 

extremely energetic so good luck sleeping at night 

he calls you over to show his empty pet bowl after he finishes his food and he looks so proud of himself 

so warm and fluffy and actually loves belly rubs 

is the one waking you up in the morning because he wants to go for a walk

shinazugawa sanemi 

scarred white cat with green eyes and a twisted tail you found in the streets

feral, has rabies, and almost scratched the hell out of you and the vet when you tried to get him his shots 

doesn’t like to be picked up but would sometimes bonk you with his head 

watches the doors and flicks his tail when someone approaches the house 

isn’t picky with his food and sometimes you can catch him rummaging through your trashcan 

tokito muichiro 

black, long-haired kitten that looks like he’s got white socks on 

sleeps in the weirdest positions and in the weirdest places 

loves toys that have bells attached to them 

sometimes he comes to your room and then just leaves 

stares at the wall or ceiling a lot 

kocho shinobu 

black, short-haired cat with a shiny coat 

she is a little mean but she’s very loving

when she isn’t fed on time she goes :3 and tries to push down a fragile item off the table 

even though she does that she jumps to join you in bed, laying beside you until you both fall asleep 

looks wonderful next to flowers 

kanroji mitsuri 

white, long-haired white cat with the most beautiful green eyes 

the most loving one of the bunch 

greets you when you come home, sits on your lap, naps on you 

wants to eat whatever it is you are eating 

pretty clumsy and knocks over your things often and runs to you to rub against your legs like nothing happened 

#mio #the hashira as cats #tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyu #iguro obanai #uzui tengen #himejima gyoumei #shinazugawa sanemi #tokito muichiro #rengoku kyojuro #kocho shinobu #kanroji mitsuri #kny #kny imagines #kny headcanons #hashira #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer imagines #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #headcanons #anime #anime imagines #anime headcanons

[red-sneakers]

Pairing: Midoriya Izuku/Bakugou Katsuki

Rating: G

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Eri, Bakugou Katsuki

Summary: Katsuki helps Izuku babysit an unruly Eri who has opinions about how Katsuki should treat the person he likes.

Genres: comfort, humor, romance

Word count: 1,020

For @gil-shalossssss as a thank you for the adorable fan art of my fanfic, Go Get Your Man, Young Bakugou!

Check out their cute art here!

_______

Usually, babysitting Eri was a piece of cake. She was such a good kid. In some ways, she reminded Izuku of his younger self: always on his best behavior for fear of being a burden. In his heart of hearts, Izuku was glad Eri’d been acting up today, because it probably meant she was getting more comfortable with him. That said, he was exhausted.

“No, you’re saying it wrong!” Eri stomped a socked foot on the carpet of the common room for the 100th time that evening.

Izuku sighed from under a mountain of pillows, making sure his irritation wasn’t loud enough for the little girl to hear. “What do you want me to say, Eri?”

“It’s not fun if you’re not scared!” 

Izuku buried his face in a cushion. He’d never been a very good actor. When he was a kid, it was different, because the make believe games felt real, especially the ones he played with Kacchan. Right now, however, he was having trouble “getting into character.” It’d been a long day.

“Come oooon!” Eri whined.

Izuku drew a bolstering breath. “Save me, Healing Hero: Uni!” He cringed at his own voice. Eri was right; he didn’t sound scared at all. “My legs are stuck under this pillow.” Izuku realized his mistake too late. “I-I-I mean rubble! Under this rubble!”

“Noooo!!” Eri’s yell flipped into a piercing whistle register.

“What’s with the damn racket, hah?!”

Izuku poked his head from the pillow pile at the sound of Kacchan’s voice. Despite the angry eyebrows and tense grip on his wooden spoon, Kacchan looked soft in his black pajama shirt and sweats, stirring a pot of what smelled like his signature spicy curry.

“He won’t . . . s-say it right . . .” Eri murmured, her face almost as red as her dress. She must’ve been embarrassed to be caught in a meltdown.

“Heh. That’s ‘cause Izuku can’t say anything right.” Kacchan grinned. Izuku’s face burned with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation. He opened his mouth to make a retort, but then Kacchan’s face melted into something softer. Awkward, even. “But he, uh . . . He always does his best. So give ‘im a break, eh?”

Eri’s lower lip quivered. Oh no, oh no, it was starting. Izuku’d known Eri for about a year, and he’d only seen her cry about four times. She held it in, because she didn’t want people to know they’d upset her. Izuku could tell. Eri only ever cried when she thought she’d hurt someone else. But she wasn’t to blame! Izuku should’ve been able to keep her happy. Why couldn’t he have just been a better ‘helpless civilian’?

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay.” Izuku stumbled free of the pillow pile. “See? No tears!” He squatted in front of Eri and pointed to his own dry eyes. Somehow that only made more tears pool in Eri’s until they spilled over. “Oh, gosh, please don’t be sad, Eri! I’m not sad. Really! I’m just a little tired, that’s all! Three hours is kind of a long time to play hero, and—“

“Three hours?” Kacchan interrupted. “No wonder the kid’s pissy. She’s fucking hungry, idiot.”

A few minutes later, Izuku, Kacchan, and Eri sat around the circular kitchen table, each with a large, steaming bowl of Kacchan’s famous spicy curry (Izuku with an extra side of rice, because he was a ‘wimp’ according to Kacchan). 

Kacchan’d been right about Eri. She seemed much happier with a belly full of a delicious, home cooked meal. Izuku often forgot his own meals, but forgetting Eri’s dinner was basically a crime. He’d have to do better next time. Maybe he’d start getting healthy, pocket-sized snacks to keep in case Eri got hungry randomly during the day. The grocery store sold veggie snacks, but she’d need something with protein so—

“Quit muttering, nerd.”

“S-sorry, Kacchan.” Izuku stuffed his cheeks with rice to stifle any unconscious muttering.

“Why do you call Deku names?” Eri asked with curry stuffed in her own chipmunk cheeks. She could handle spice almost as well as Kacchan.                       

“‘Cause he’s a nerd.” Kacchan answered flippantly, adding even more hot sauce to his own bowl.

“But don’t you like him?”

Izuku inhaled a chilli flake and choked. 

Kacchan slapped him hard between the shoulder blades, and the flake dislodged. “Yeah, so?”

Izuku wheezed. Kacchan was admitting to liking him? Of course, he didn’t mean romantically. There was no way. But still, Izuku never thought he’d hear Kacchan admit to more than tolerating him.

“You’re ‘spose to call him something nice,” Eri insisted. Izuku held his napkin to his mouth, more to hide his flushed face than clean the sauce on his chin.

Kacchan leaned across the table, grinning like the cheshire cat. “Oh yeah? Wadda you suggest, Eri?” He addressed Eri, but he looked right at Izuku, and the hairs on the back of Izuku’s neck stood on end.

“Hmmm . . .” Eri scrunched up her face in serious thought, as if she’d just been given the task of choosing the number one hero’s official hero name. This was dangerous. Lately, Eri’d been getting more and more interested in the kind of stories where princes and princesses fall in love at the end. There was a non-zero chance she was about to suggest a super lovey-dovey nickname.

“It’s okay, Eri,” Izuku tried to redirect the conversation, “I really don’t mind when Kacchan calls me a—“

“I’ve got it!” Eri lit up. “Honey Bunny!”

Izuku froze. 

Kacchan’s shoulders quivered and he covered his mouth with a broad hand, presumably hiding his laughter.

Eri bounced in her seat, clearly proud of herself. “‘cause of the ears on his hero costume!”

Izuku was at a loss. Surely, Kacchan would shut down that nickname (err, pet name), and it’d probably hurt Eri’s feelings since she was so proud of it, but how could Izuku console her without admitting that Kacchan calling him a pet name would be a dream come true that could never in a million years actually—

“Alright.” Kacchan leaned back in his chair, smugly crossing his arms. “Honey Bunny it is.”

_______________

If anyone is inspired to continue the story, PLEASE DO! I’d love to read it. (Just please don’t useChatGPT.)

#gil-shalossssss #bkdk #dkbk #eri #kacchan #deku #bkdk fanfic #dkbk fanfic #ggymyb #bakudeku #dekubaku

[sunshinebingo]

Follow Gwyn, Azriel and their twins as they get ready for the day.

Word Count: 1.8k

Read on Ao3

7.10 am

Gwyn is pulled from her sleep by the bouncing movement of the mattress. She does not have to look to know that this is caused by two little ones jumping on her bed. She cracks open an eye to see Azriel already looking at her with sleep in his eyes and a smile. Considering their lack of sleep for the past three years, both of them deserves at least several weeks of rest. But that will probably have to wait until their twins are fully grown adults.

‘’Daddy wake up,’’ Catrin shouts in Azriel face when he closes his eyes again. As always, their twins decide to divide and conquer. Catrin starts tapping on Azriel’s face with her tiny hands while Eli grabs one of Gwyn’s arms. ‘’Mommy we have to gooo,’’ he complains as he pulls with all his force.

Like all Saturdays, all the kids of the Inner Circle spend the day together. Sometimes it is at Feyre’s painting studio, sometimes they come to Azriel and Gwyn’s Beach House, other times it is at the House of Wind. Today, they will all go to Elain and Lucien’s private house in the Day Court where Elain, Nesta and Gwyn will be babysitting while the rest of the Inner Circle are busy with their respective duties. Catrin and Eliot have been so excited about this trip that it was the only reason that has led them to go to bed early last night.

When Catrin starts poking her finger in her father’s eyes, Azriel grabs her and pulls her in his arms. Their winged daughter giggles when Azriel places kisses all over her face and belly. Seeing all the fun they are having, Eli releases Gwyn’s arms to throw himself on Azriel. Gwyn beams at the sight of her mate being attacked by their children. Unable to resist, Gwyn grabs her son and joins them in their battle of cuddles.

7.30 am

Azriel opens his mouth to take the strawberry that Eli is handing him with sticky fingers. On the opposite side of the table, Gwyn scoops yogurt off of Catrin’s pyjamas after the little girl has insisted that she can eat on her own.

‘’I want to see the pegasi,’’ Cat says, brushing her hair out of her face and spreading yogurt in it in the process.

‘’What about you,’’ Azriel asks his son as he lifts him up to place him on his lap. Once Eli gets comfortable, he goes back to digging his favourite fruits out of the bowl and feeding the rest to his father. And so breakfast is spent with Cat and Eli talking about what they will do once they are in the Day court.

7.55 am

Azriel takes his shower while Gwyn helps Eli and Cat pick an outfit for the day. If he did not have to leave for a mission, Azriel would have already started to tidy up the house. With two active children, their house often looks like a storm has come and knocked everything out of place. They had planned to clean up a little last night after their kids had gone to bed. But their late night cleaning up has instead turned into other late night activities. Ones that has led to more mess but in their own bedroom. Thank the mother and the cauldron that they have dressed up again after since they have forgotten to lock the door. On the mornings when Catrin and Eli would come to their parent’s room and find that it’s locked, they would knock and call for them on the other side of the door until someone eventually lets them in. Neither of their parents complain about it though.

In the children’s shared room, Eli settles for a black t-shirt and pair of light grey shorts. The only thing he has gotten from his mother is Gwyn’s red hair and his lack of wings. Apart from those, Eli is the portrait of his dad. They even have similar preferences in clothes. Cat, the more bubbly twin, goes for a green floral dress.

‘’I want gween because Lulu likes gween,’’ Catrin says in that funny way of hers. She has always had a soft spot for Lucien, or Lulu as Cat and Eli likes to call him.

‘’Okay then,’’ she looks at her twins after laying the clothes on their beds, ‘’Who will go first?’’

8.10 am

After Azriel is ready, Gwyn hands him Eliot while she takes care of Catrin in the bathroom. Azriel takes the opportunity to reduce as much of the mess around the house as possible. Azriel picks up all the books and toys lying around to put them back where they belong. Eli starts to help by carrying some of the toys but ends up being more interested in playing with the toys than putting them away.

8.25 am

When Gwyn comes out of the bathroom with Catrin engulfed in a fluffy brown dressing gown with bear ears, she finds her son and her mate sitting on the rug and in the process of building a block tower. As soon as she puts her daughter down, Catrin runs to them and knocks the tower down.

‘’Hey,’’ Eli shouts and pushes his sister away.

‘’Catrin,’’ Gwyn scolded her.

Azriel grabs the boy before he could throw a block at his sister. Before a fight erupts between the two, Gwyn walks to them and takes Eli from his father.

‘’Get her ready or we’ll be late,’’ she tells Azriel as she carries Eli to the bath.

8.35 am

After Catrin is dressed, Azriel sets to combing her hair. Unlike her twin, Catrin has her father’s dark hair. Though she resembles Gwyn the most with her paler skin and her teal eyes. Their family always like to tease that both Gwyn and Azriel have been gifted with a little copy of themselves, both in looks and personality.

8.40 am

Azriel adjusts the last bow in Catrin’s hair just in time for Eli to come running in the room giggling and completely naked.

“Got you,” Gwyn laughs when she finally reaches him. She wraps a towel around his little form and lifts him in the air. Gwyn hands their son to her mate before she rushes back to the bathroom so she can also get ready. Azriel immediately sets to get their little redhead dressed while his sister twirls around the room in her floral dress, dancing with one of her teddy bears as if it is her dance partner.

9.00 am

Gwyn gets out of her and Azriel’s private bathroom with a towel barely covering her body. She startles when she finds her mate looking for something on the nightstand.

“What are you looking for?” she asks as she starts to look for the proper clothes to wear. When she turns around, Azriel is staring at her with a look that she knows too well. Their bond thrums when Azriel’s lips pull up into a smirk.

Gwyn walks to him and pulls him down for a kiss. He pulls on her towel and lets it fall to the ground. A second later, Gwyn pushes Azriel out of door and closes it in his face. Azriel chuckles and walks back to his babies.

9.03 am

“Daddy look I’m flying,” Catrin tries to capture her father’s attention while he looks for Eliot’s shoe under the bed. When he looks up, Catrin is jumping on the bed and flapping her wings.

“Baby stop or you will hurt yourself,” Azriel groans as he starts to crawl under Eli’s bed. What he finds first is not the missing shoe but the little boy himself.

“Hi daddy,” Eliot beamed at his dad. Azriel can barely fit half of his body there. But Eli was so small that he has been able to completely slip under the bed.

“What are you doing here buddy?” Azriel asks incredulously.

“My shoe,” Eli says, waving the white shoe in Azriel’s face. They both get out from under the bed and Azriel finally puts Eli’s shoe on.

9.10 am

Gwyn enters the kitchen to find Azriel trying to console a crying Catrin. The reason for the tears is that Azriel has said no to Cat bringing the jar of peanut butter in her backpack.

“You can have peanut butter when we get home later love,” Azriel says, wiping the tears off of her face.

Gwyn walks to Eli who is trying to pack his bag by himself. She kisses him on the cheek and removes everything from the bag to put them back in a better order.

“Plus I’m sure you will have far better things to eat there than peanut butter,” Azriel tells Catrin as he places her on the table next to Eli.

Seeing that his twin is crying, Eli places a hand on hers to comfort her. Catrin turns her palm upwards and laces her fingers with her brother’s. Soon after, the crying turns into sniffing until it finally stops.

9.20 am

Gwyn shuffles through the kids wardrobe to find a new shirt for Eli after he has spilled apple juice on it. Eli, who is completely unbothered by all this, sits on his bed, licking the wet spot on his shirt. When Gwyn walks to him, her son refuses to lift his arm up for her to put the new shirt on him.

“I don’t want this one,” Eli shakes his head.

“Come on baby,” Gwyn almost pleads, “We are going to be late.”

“I want to look like daddy,” Eli pouts.

Gwyn rolls her eyes but smiles as she walks back to the wardrobe to swap the white shirt for one that will make Eliot look more like his father.

9.25 am

“Mommy,” Catrin shouts and jumps into her mother’s arms as if she has not been gone for only 5 minutes.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Azriel asks after he finishes adjusting Eli’s backpack.

Cat and Eli jump around in excitement. After a final check that everyone has all that they need, Eli and Cat rush for the door.

“Don’t run,” Gwyn warns, walking behind them.

“Let’s go,” Cat says excitedly once she is outside.

Azriel locks the door and checks the ward around the house just to be safe. When he goes to winnow everyone to Day, Azriel finds Gwyn and Eli walking towards the front door.

“Eli wants to pee,” Gwyn shrugs before unlocking the door and walking back inside.

Azriel picks his son’s backpack from where he has left it on the porch and joins Catrin.

9.30 am

“Are we all ready,” Azriel asks again and waits for everyone's nods.

Gwyn picks Eli up and Azriel carries Catrin.

“Sure?” Azriel asks one last time.

“Let’s go,” Cat replies eagerly.

Gwyn laughs at her daughter’s enthusiasm. “Let’s go before something else happens.”

Gwyn places a hand on her mate’s shoulder before he finally winnows them all to the Day Court.

Thank you for reading!! 😘

P.S... There's also An Afternoon at the Berdara Household

#Gwynriel #Fluff and more fluff #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #Gwynriel babies #I wrote this instead of studying #There might be mistakes #But I don't care #As long as it got me distracted #also disclaimer #... I don't know much about kids

[sylkiddsey]

Say my name and everything just stops

Small scrap sections from a longer work that will never be finished. It acknowledges the shift from “Casey” to “Matt”

1. Late season 6:

It’s kind of like Matt’s engaged in some sort of really serious game of hide and seek, but one person is not really hiding, and the other is somewhat seeking, but also not really.

His marriage has become this game of avoidance where they just keep passing each other. They pass in the halls of the firehouse. They pass in their own home, from room to room. Even in a confined car, it feels like they’re just passing.

He and Gabby are so off kilter. Everything feels unbalanced and it’s driving him crazy. This isn’t the marriage he envisioned, and he doesn’t know how to go back.

He’s well aware they’ve always had problems. They’ve never been perfect, but he had been able to fix it. Usually, that involved him complying and going along with his very independent wife, but he’d done it.

This time, he can’t comply so they’re stuck in this holding pattern while he waits (and also avoids her) for her to do the compromising.

He can’t go along with her plan to have a child, basically without him. She pretty much implied she was going to get pregnant with or without his help which stung. He can’t give her a baby if it means having to raise their child without his wife. That guilt will kill him, so he refuses.

His refusal didn’t kill her plan. Like always, Gabby Dawson found a way around and wants a baby…wants to endure a risky pregnancy and possibly carry some other guy’s child if he won’t do it.

His own wife won’t budge and he’s not going the extra mile to solve this, so they are just passing by.

When he arrives home to the condo, he freezes in his doorway. He was expecting his wife, probably perched on a stool ready to pick another battle. He’s ready for it, but it’s not Gabby in his kitchen.

Brett’s standing at his island, wearing a faded apron he vaguely remembers was gifted to Gabby as a wedding present, mixing bowl and a big wooden spoon in hand.

Her hair is piled up on her head, chocolate smeared on the corner of her mouth, and he assumes Antonio fucked her over again. She’s probably eating her feelings and drinking wine with her best friend, but that’s not the case.

She looks up from her chocolate concoction, blue eyes widening like a cartoon. “Matt, hi. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

He stops dead in his tracks, but not because Brett has apparently broken into his home. He pauses because she called him Matt which she doesn’t do.

It’s not like he has a problem with it, but pretty much everyone at 51 calls him Casey. It’s just become this thing so when Sylvie Brett says it so casually, in his damn kitchen while his marriage crumbles somewhere else…it strikes him.

He’s not even sure she’s ever called him his name before. She might’ve in the past, but it never registered.

He’s only really Matt to his wife and his sister. Although, his wife does use his last name when she’s pissed (which has been happening often).

She finishes swirling the brown batter in one of the big glass bowls Gabby chose. “I know I shouldn’t have used my emergency key, but I wanted to make Gabby her favorite brownies just to…I don’t know, cheer her up. I should’ve asked first.”

He shakes his head, sets his keys on the hook and adverts his gaze because he’s pretty sure he makes her nervous. Brett can’t see him as anybody other than 51’s Captain which he gets. He just doesn’t want her to think he’s so uptight he’d dress her down for being a great friend.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just passing through anyway,” he explains. “I’ll be out of your hair in like ten minutes.”

“It’s your place,” Brett replies. “If someone should leave it should be me.”

He figures Gabby would rather have her friend here instead of him anyway.

“Seriously, I’m heading out the door anyway. Stay. Finish the brownies.”

She smiles a little, sweeping a loose strand of long blonde hair away from her face. “Thanks, Casey.”

Casey.

Everything shifts right back to normal where he’s just Casey, Brett’s just Brett. He’s in his home. The one he shares with someone who shares practically nothing with him and Brett’s doing what she does best; being good to her people.

It’s one thing he has always appreciated about the paramedic. She’s good. She’s good to her patients. She’s good to 51. She’s extraordinarily good to his wife.

He passes her by, ready to change from his construction job and head to Molly’s. He stops in the doorway, observing a flustered Brett as she tries to perfect the homemade frosting. She tastes it with her finger and groans when it’s not good enough.

He knows from Gabby that she’s still a little heartbroken over Antonio and a bit raw from certain ambo calls, yet she’s here…supporting Gabby with sugar and chocolate.

“Brett.”

She startles again, almost as if she’s afraid he’s changed his mind and is mad she’s here. “Uh, yeah?”

“You’re a good friend. She’s lucky to have you,” he says.

Her blue eyes look a little misty in his kitchen lighting. “She’s lucky to have you too.”

He doesn’t think his own wife believes that, but he’s grateful for the words anyway.

The oven timer dings behind her, and she struggles to pull out batch one of her brownie mission. He contemplates offering to help, but his life is currently burning to the ground, so he doesn’t have time to salvage some brownies.

Some things are better left unsalvageable anyway.

2. Early season 7:

He’s on his third or fourth beer at Molly’s. He knows drinking won’t numb the fact he wasn’t good enough for his wife, but it does help a little.

The stool next to his squeaks obnoxiously loud and he hears a quiet gasp. Pink painted nails clamp on the counter and Brett has nearly fallen off the stool.

He wants to laugh, but she looks partially embarrassed…or maybe more ashamed

“I’m sorry, Casey.”

He raises an eyebrow, dumbfounded. She has nothing to apologize for. The last shift had gone well, and he doesn’t even remember scolding her for anything. Hell, he’s not even sure he talked to her at all at the station.

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have blamed you for Gabby leaving,” she mutters, pulling at the edge of her sweater sleeve.

That’s a conversation they had weeks ago. He’s completely forgotten about it. She had been blindsided and upset which he absolutely understood. God knows he felt all that with her, so he really didn’t think too much about her minor lash out

“Brett…”

“I was just hurt I guess,” she admits. “And if I felt hurt…I can’t imagine how hurt you were. It was selfish and dumb.

Sylvie Brett and selfish don’t fit in the same sentence. She’s too kind even to her own detriment.

Still, it feels good to have someone recognize how hurt he is. Yes, they all care and pity him, but no one acknowledges how much Gabby hurt him. It might not have been intentional but her constant rejection about what he wants and needs fucking hurts.

“Brett, it’s fine,” he replies. “I get it. I do and honestly, she was always going to chase bigger things. She was always going to leave, and I was always going to stay.”

It sums up majority of his relationship. Gabby was always leaving in some way. She’d leave to pursue a new career, leaving him to stay and deal with the fallout. She’d leave to adopt a child and again, he stayed and followed. She was always leaving him and somehow, he just kept staying.

Brett frowns, looking into her glass. He watches her stir the blue-ish margarita with a toothpick umbrella. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you stayed.”

For the first time in a long time, her words soothe the crippling ache Gabby left behind. It doesn’t completely fix everything, but it feels good to know that he didn’t make the wrong decision by not following her.

At least according to Brett.

“Yeah?”

She nods, a smile passing over her face. Lately he hasn’t seen Brett very happy so it’s good to see a glimmer of their past.

“Honestly, I just can’t imagine what 51 would be like without you, Matt.”

He’s struck by the fact she’s using his name again. It’s odd because he’s been so used to Casey for so long and every once in a while, Brett calls him Matt.

There’s something interesting about the way she says it. The syllables just roll off her (now blue) tongue differently in a way he’s never heard. It feels like two different voices and sounds absolutely nothing like it does on shift, surrounded by firefighters and in between blaring bells.

Wow, maybe he’s had a little too much to drink tonight.

He nudges her arm lightly, thanking her for her kindness. He’s surprised she’s giving it to him of all people, but he appreciates it, nonetheless.

Prior, Brett has always been connected to him through association. She was Gabby’s best friend. She was Gabby’s ambo partner. She was Gabby’s brother’s girlfriend.

She’s never been anything to him, but now with Gabby long gone…he thinks maybe Brett won’t be such a stranger anymore.

“God, do you imagine if you left, and Severide became a captain or something?” She asks through a snort.

He has to admit that’s a funny picture. “You’d all be dead because he was too busy making out with Kidd.”

Brett laughs a little too hard at his pitiful joke. He starts to think she might’ve had a few drinks herself. “Oh you are so right, Casey!”

He’s too caught up in the allure of her contagious laugh to analyze the name shift. He’s heard this laugh way too much from his living room or the common room on shift, but this is the first time he’s really taken by it

Sylvie Brett has a wildly adorable laugh. Who knew?

3. 7x08

He starts to appreciate new things he hasn’t had the chance to while married. For one, he has complete freedom of his own life. Every decision is his. Plus, he has more time to spend with 51 and he surprisingly enjoys fishing with Boden of all people.

However, his newest discovery happens to be drunk Sylvie Brett. Brett’s incredibly charming on any day but mix her with alcohol and she somehow becomes more and more dorky.

He has to say he greatly appreciates drunk Brett because it’s hilarious. She can’t hold her liquor and each sentence come out in mangled fragments, but it’s not annoying. Not at all. He actually quite likes Brett when she drinks.

She’s absolutely drunk after Foster pumped her full of alcohol. He’s had the front row seat to her nose scrunch, big doe eyes and flailing hand which had turned his crappy night around.

He’s not even thinking about Naomi or what it could’ve been if he had pretended to be ready.

He had planned to go home a little early but decided to stick around to observe Brett. She’s very drunk and he’s concerned about how she’s going to get home.

Foster left hours ago. Kidd ditched too, probably to make up and make out with Severide. He expected Cruz would take her back, but he disappeared with Chloe and hasn’t returned. Even Otis has vanished.

He makes conversation with Hermann and waits for someone to get her home safely.

At some point during the night, he loses track of her just as Hermann closes. He took his eyes off to help the older man move a shipment of beer and now, she’s gone.

Shit. He hopes she’s not inebriated enough to think she can drive. Although, he’s not sure a taxi or ride share is better when she’s this out of it.

Men are assholes.

Matt hurries out the door, hoping to catch her before she disappears in some sketchy car.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to look far because Brett’s sitting on the bottom step, chin in hand and phone clutched in the other.

She tilts her head up, grinning. “Hey, Casey.”

“Hi. What are you doing out here?”

She points her turned off phone in his face. “Waiting for a cab. I’m just a teeny tiny bit drunk.”

Yeah, just a teeny tiny bit…

Again, he doesn’t want her getting in a car like this where someone could easily try something.

“I’ll drive you home,” he offers, reaching for her hand. He pulls her up, braces her stumbling with his chest and holds one hand on her arm to keep her grounded.

“No. No. You should be calling cute reporter,” she slurs, eyelids drooping lower and lower. She pokes his chest with one slender finger. “Go and make your move, Casey. Girls don’t like waiting.”

Naomi is not his concern at the moment. She’s just a girl he casually kinda sorta dated and Brett’s…well, she’s Brett. She’s an essential part of 51 and far more important than some possible girlfriend.

“She’ll be there in the morning. I’m concerned you won’t be if I don’t get you home myself,” he explains. “You’re drunk, Brett and I don’t trust some taxi driver so let’s go.”

She sticks her bottom lip out. “Fine. Fine. Fine. Lead the way, Captain.”

He steers her by the shoulders so she can’t fall flat on her face towards his truck. When he gets the door open, Brett needs a boost into the seat.

He watches one of the best paramedics he knows fumble with a seatbelt for five minutes, amused. Eventually he gives in to her frustration and does it for her.

Super talkative drunk Sylvie seems to have left for the night. As he navigates down the streets of Chicago, she’s quiet and pressed against the passenger window.

He pulls up in front of the place she shares with Otis and Cruz ten minutes later. He turns his truck off, unlocks the door for Sylvie to jump (or probably fall) out. She doesn’t make a move though, and when he looks over, she’s sleeping against her seatbelt.

He should’ve seen this coming. She drank a lot so of course the alcohol would knock her out.

“Brett?” He asks.

She snores a little in response and he can’t help but chuckle. He stays in the driver side for a few more minutes, thinking of the best way to get her inside.

While thinking, he observes her drunken sleep. Her hair is a mess, tangled against the window. She has mascara rings all around her eyes and cheeks and she’s even drooling a little.

He admires her unkept look. He’s always liked how she’s fearlessly herself and just doesn’t care if it’s well received or not.

It’s a very admirable quality.

Her neck is gonna hurt like hell if she stays in that position much longer. He climbs out his truck and goes to her side. He eases the door open, managing to keep her from tipping out with a hand against her head.

“Brett,” he says, shaking her shoulder a little. “Brett, come on. Wake up.”

She’s dead asleep, nestling further into the hand keeping her head from lolling. He can’t stand all night like this with her face in his palm.

Fine. He’ll carry her in. He undoes her seatbelt and when it clicks, she startles.

The sudden panic vanishes the second she realizes it’s him. She smiles sleepily. “Matt.”

Matt. Not Casey. All evening he’s been Casey aside from when she full named him earlier. Now that she’s drunk and tired, he’s Matt again.

He wonders if it’s purely accidental or if she consciously chooses when to change it up.

“How’d you get here so fast?” She asks, looking around the sidewalk.

“You fell asleep,” he explains. “Come on. Let me get you to your apartment. Can you walk?”

She nods and stumbles out of her seat. He braces her fall, laughing at how ridiculously uncoordinated she is after some tequila.

“Hey! Are you laughing at me?”

He helps her inside the apartment building, pointing her in the direction of the elevator.

“I’ve never seen you like this. It’s wildly entertaining.”

“Well, at least I didn’t accept a proposal this time,” she yawns, leaning her head into his shoulder as they wait for the right floor.

“What?” He asks.

She shrugs as the doors slide open. “A green card thing. I was drunk…didn’t marry him. Long story.”

Sounds like it. They make it to her door, Brett halfway asleep on him. He fishes her key out of her purse and then let’s them inside.

“Casey, hi?” Cruz greets from the kitchen. His eyebrows raise when he sees Brett. “Oh man, I completely forgot.”

He knows Cruz was too focused on his new girlfriend to look out for her, but still. She’s his room dog or whatever they call each other. He shouldn’t have left her alone.

“She needs to go to bed,” he explains, doing his best to pass her off to Cruz. She doesn’t want to leave his side for whatever drunken reason so they both have to get her into her bed.

Once she’s buried under a thousand blankets, he turns to Cruz. “Make sure she drinks a lot of water tomorrow because that hangover is gonna be brutal.”

Cruz laughs. “Drunk Brett might be fun, but hungover Brett is not.”

He can imagine. She’ll definitely be miserable tomorrow.

When he goes to leave, Cruz stops him. “Thank Casey.”

“Yep.”

It’s not like he was going to leave her anyway. He’s just glad she’s home safe.

4. Post 8x09

That night he and Gabby hadn’t just passed by but went straight through. They fell right into familiarity and slept together. She was his wife. She knew him better than anyone. Well, he’s starting to think there’s someone else who understands him better, but he’s not gonna go there.

The night is good, but just not as good as he remembered. He expected that cosmic pull (or whatever) but if anything, something is pushing him further and further from what he thought was his future.

There was a disconnect and when he left, it felt like closure. Gabby’s so happy in Puerto Rico. He’s genuinely glad she’s doing so well for herself, even without him. Plus, he’s happy too in Chicago with 51. His future is here.

Gabby leaves the voicemail about how she always has an opening for him, and the bitterness resurfaces. It’s a nice gesture, but it proves how things will only ever progress if he makes the life changes. They can have another night together if he goes to Puerto Rico.

He has no plans to do that.

Someone knocks on his door at a quarter to eleven. His best guess is Severide forgot his key and he and Kidd got in a fight.

They fight and make up a little too much.

He hauls himself off the couch and opens the door. He expects Severide in the door with a permanent frown and a string of curses. What he doesn’t expect is Brett in his doorway, mini dress on and perfectly applied make up.

She looks amazing. He’s always thought Brett was a cute girl. It’s a fact, but he’s starting to think she’s more than just cute. She’s shockingly hot.

“Hi,” she greets.

Did he black out and ask her on a date something? She’s clearly dressed for the occasion. God knows he’s thought about making a move, but he has no memory of doing it.

Even if he somehow lost his mind and did plan a date, he wouldn’t choose such a late time.

He must look as confused as he feels because she chuckles.

“Sorry. I know it’s late.” She looks down at her tight red dress and then back at him. “I had a date. I don’t usually wear this kinda stuff.”

So, someone else asked her out? He doesn’t remember hearing about anyone new. To his knowledge, Ryan was the last.

“You look…fancy,” he compliments. Other more expressive words are on the tip of his tongue, but he settles for fancy. It’s probably best he doesn’t tell her she looks hot in that dress.

“Late dinner. Completely disastrous dessert. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about my failed attempts at romance.”

He’s not sure why he’s relieved the date didn’t go well. He’ll analyze that later.

“Why are you here?”

He’s still confused about the events that have led to her stunning appearance at his place.

“I was at dinner, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, Matt,” she says so casually as if that’s not a completely loaded confession.

She can’t stand there in a tight red dress and roll his name off her lips like this and expect nothing. She was thinking about him? She was actively thinking about him when she was with a date?

“You…couldn’t stop thinking about me? “

Her eyes widen and she covers her face. “Oh my god. That came out wrong. I don’t mean…geez, I keep doing this.”

His racing heart slows a little because he misinterpreted her words. He thought this was heading in another direction. He thought he wasn’t crazy thinking something might be happening between them.

She brings her hand back down to her side. “I was worried because I know Gabby left today and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Oh.

“I’m fine,” he dismisses. “Really, Brett.”

She eyes him like she doesn’t believe a word he’s saying. In hindsight, he didn’t sound very convincing.

“I worry no one checks on you,” she continues. “You’re this steady presence at 51 for everyone else and I just couldn’t stomach the thought of you all alone here blaming yourself.”

He leans in his doorway. Now that’s he is closer, he can smell her addictive perfume. It somehow smells like Christmas and fruit.

“Blaming myself?”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “For not feeling like enough. I can’t pretend to know what went down with Gabby, but I do like to think I know you. I know that she unintentionally hurt you by leaving and now she left again.”

“Brett…”

She edges a little closer and his heart rate quickens again. He’s half convinced she can see his neck pulse thumping from where she’s at.

“If I’m crossing a line here, let me know, but I don’t like the thought of you sitting here thinking you somehow failed,” she rambles.

He swallows, breathing in deep because she’s definitely doing something new to him. She’s not touching or anything, just hovering a few inches and God, he wants to kiss her.

Huh, that’s new.

“You didn’t fail and truthfully, I love me some Gabby, but she was wrong to make you feel like you’re…I don’t know, nothing?”

There’s a lingering question behind that confession. She’s not sure she’s reading his feelings right, but she’s nailing it. Somehow, she’s articulated everything he’s felt better than he could.

“You’re not nothing, Matt. If you ask anyone at 51, if you ask me…you’re pretty much everything there is.”

He’s shell shocked which doesn’t happen often. He’s good at reacting. He’s trained to be ready for anything, but he wasn’t ready for this.

For her.

She’s healing parts of him he didn’t even know were broken with her kindness and consideration. She didn’t have to leave a date to ease his pain, but she did.

She knew he’d need to hear it before he even did.

She’s standing in his door in a strapless dress that pushes up her boobs saying things he’s never heard from anyone. He’s not leering at her, of course, but he’s human. He spares a few glances since she’s so close.

He’s also only been Matt tonight. She hasn’t called him Casey once. Somehow, he’s hearing his first name from her more than ever and he quite appreciates the change.

Matt brings his hand to her bare arm, brushing his palm down her skin. “Thank you, Sylvie.”

He knows he should pull his hand away from her soft skin. A normal shoulder squeeze is one thing, but this lingering grip is another. He traces his thumb around a freckle on her forearm.

Her skin erupts in little goose bumps and he figures she’s probably freezing her ass off in that dress. “Do you wanna come in? I can get you a sweatshirt or something.”

She looks at her heels before gently easing out of his grip. When she replies, she looks anywhere other than at him. “No, that’s okay. I better go home before Foster goes on a manhunt for the guy who took me out. I told her I’d be home by now.”

Right. It’s probably best she doesn’t cross the threshold. He’s afraid of what he’ll do with a few beers in his system and her looking like that.

She’s sweet, kind and so empathetic while he’s just a mess.

“Yeah, good call. Foster with a pitchfork and torch is a scary thought,” he comments.

She laughs, wrinkling her nose. “You make a very good point.” She swipes some hair away from her face. “I’ll see you on shift, Casey.”

Casey again. It feels like the shift is definitely intentional. She’s creating distance.

He nods, moving all the way back into his apartment. “On shift.”

She waves and he unapologetically watches her walk down the hall. Once she turns the corner, he shuts the door.

#brettsey #sylkiddsey-prompts #the name shift is so important to me #this was written before It’s Golden so some lines are similar #I’m working on the lovely prompts #i would expect more posts on here instead of full length works #posting here because why not #someone might like these lol

[fuckmeyer]

How do you imagine the Cullens and Bella dressing like in your book?

similar style but slight adjustments.

Bella probably goes through the biggest change. she starts off In the Afterlight wearing jeans, band tees, chunky sweaters, & very eclectic pieces (bowling shirt ABSOLUTELY exists). in Come Nightfall she changes - she 1) won't wear anything she stole from Edward (i.e. sweaters and flannels), 2) does so much activity outdoors she's wearing exclusively athletic wear, and 3) is forced to hide her scent later on so objectively dresses WORSE with stained, mismatched thrift-store clothes. doesn't own a khaki skirt. in By Starlight, now that Edward's home, she's back to athletic wear. Edward likes this very, very much.

Edward has the same style with more color. NO sleeveless white button-up because what the FUCK. when he's hunting, he's a jeans and flannel shirt kinda guy - he'll often wear clothes he hates when hunting. (ofc, now that Bella wears his flannel shirts, he's rethinking his tastes.) otherwise, day-to-day, he's a loose slacks, undershirt, & suspenders kinda guy (think 1950s or 20s). nice button-ups and dark fitted sweaters in deep, dark colors like navy, burgundy, phthalo green. extremely lame in a cute way. light spoilers for future chaps, but this man is literally always trying to hide his body.

i picture the Cullens dressing mostly in timeless outfits and styles.

Esme adores dresses and skirts à la Audrey Hepburn. classic, chic, evergreen. she would wear neutrals the most day-to-day but adores flowing prints and polka dots when she feels in the mood :) definitely wears ratty skirts or jeans when gardening.

Rosalie's casual/business casual style has some Princess Di influences with some modern trends mixed in (thanks to Alice). keeps some greasy old jeans and overalls for her mechanic work.

Carlisle really misses wearing embroidered brocaded waistcoats & frilly shirts. thinks modern men's fashion is boring. slacks and button-ups for this man. CARDIGANS ALL DAY. misses wearing ascots, but likes scarves. god, he hates modern men's fashion.

Jasper actually loved his 90s grunge/punk era and never really left it. army boots/doc martins (with the coded laces OFC), ripped jeans, plaid shirts, band tees, beanies, leather jackets with handsewn patches.

Emmett is jeans and tees all day. James Dean kinda guy with the boots, slacks/jeans, nice white tee, bomber jacket.

Alice is a freak. she's following every trend. she says it's to keep the Cullens in the modern world (true - to their dismay, she WILL go through their closets and add/subtract items). but really, it's her way to stay connected to the present day. she has ofc rare commissioned pieces from different designers, beautiful pieces from eras long gone that she can't bear to part with (because ofc everything comes back in style), weird pieces from niche trends... but she absolutely DOES dress like she's straight from a 2000s-era issue of Seventeen. for better or worse.

#asks #by starlight

[snoozingredpanda]

how would Lockie feel if reader asked them on a date? Like Lockie been watching them awhile to nervous to say anything then reader starts to follow them to get the courage or chance to ask?

Oh ho ho here we go… lockie has a little pet I’d like to introduce 😈

—

The Urge — Lockie Richards

Fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, lockie being a creep (but a cute one <3)

—

• Lockie sits parked across from the house. Dressed in a hoody and a cap, despite it being 8pm, she looks very creepy to the average person, and she is. She’s watching you through your window, watching you talk on your phone as you mix something in a bowl, stopping every so often to lick some of the contents off your fingers.

• She grips the steering wheel, leaning forwards to try and watch closer. You’re completely unaware of her, a stranger, a quiet and timid woman who works at a place thousands of others do alongside you, watching you like a hawk, like a pervert. Just like The Urge wants.

• She hates what The Urge does to her. It growls at her, crawls up her spine and scrapes her ribs, using her organs as stepping stones as it struggles to escape the body it’s trapped in. Lockie fights hard to keep it down, telling it that it was horrible and heartless and cruel. It didn’t care, it still fought to escape, and on some lovely nights it did. Like now.

• She gazes at you with her soft chocolate brown eyes. You’re so, so beautiful. It’s astounding how oblivious you are to your own beauty, how both men and women’s heads turn as you walk past. You’re like a goddess amongst humans, and none of them are good enough for you.

• Well, The Urge thinks it’s good enough, but Lockie doesn’t. And so that’s why The Urge begs her to steal you away, and keep you for the two of them. But Lockie doesn’t want to. She knows you don’t deserve that fate. You deserve a kind, confident, rich partner that satisfies you in every way. The Urge, however, is relentless, whispering within her, tickling her spine, trying to convince her it’s for the best.

• Lockie sighs gently, resting her head on her arms as she watches you continue to bake whatever you’re baking. You look so happy, probably humming to some music playing in the background, or listening to a TV show. Lockie doesn’t want to ruin it, but The Urge does. It’s desperate to.

• When you retire upstairs to bed, Lockie slowly drives away. The Urge is screaming at her to go back and save you, scrambling to slip between the gaps of her ribs, but Lockie pushes it back in and locks it into the chambers of her stomach.

• At work, she’s as silent and reserved as always. She doesn’t like being bothered, too shy to look people in the eyes, especially when they talk about flying or planes. And of course, since she worked on an air force base, everyone was talking about the sky. Everyone either asks her a question on planes, on her past achievements or about something random, to try and mask the fact they’re trying to take a peek at her prosthetic, which is always hid well under her dirty mechanic pants.

• The only time she shows any sign of a positive reaction is when you wander into the large garage, holding a tray of coffees, telling her coworkers that she felt they needed a pick-me-up, and that they’d had a way too early morning. She can’t help but smile, but quickly it drops.

• Lockie watches out of the corner of her eye as she fastens some bolts on a boat, watching you move around to each mechanic one by one, having a small chat with them. She can feel The Urge whispering inside her, slowly making its way up using her ribs like a ladder, threatening to poke its head out of her throat. She swallows, pushing it down as you approach her with the final coffee.

• “Hey, Lockie,” you beam. She gives an awkward smile, trying not to show how her heart rate has tripled and her palms have became slick with sweat, nearly dropping her wrench. How sweet of you, using her first name instead of the horrid Captain Richards that everyone else does, just reminding her daily of the accident. It’s as if you know how the guilt consumes her daily.

• “How’s it going? This looks cool!” She wipes her hands on a dirty rag and takes the cup of coffee, taking a sip. Black, no sugar, a dash of milk, just how she likes it. How you know this, she doesn’t know. You must be a witch casting a spell on her.

• “Yeah… um… it’s part of a landing craft,” she murmurs, scared to raise her voice too loud in case The Urge escapes, waiting in her oesophagus for an opportunity to slip out. She swallows more coffee.

• “Ooh, nice. I don’t know much about boats, but you’re doing a great job!” Why are you so damn positive? It makes her tremble, giving a shaky smile as she places the coffee down on her worktable as she turns back to her tools, hoping you’ll go away.

• And you do, thankfully, and The Urge dies down with a huff, crawling back into her stomach, ready for another time.

• Another time, she’s wheeling a wheelbarrow full of metal scraps to the recycling area, and you pop up out of nowhere, almost scaring her to death. She flinches as you call out her name and walk over, clipboard in hand.

• “How are you today, Lockie?” You ask as she throws the bits of metal into the right bin.

• “I’m okay, I guess,” she replies, looking down at you with curious but cautious eyes. The Urge chitters within her, watching through the gaps of her ribs, waiting to pounce. Its claws scratch her bones, making her shiver.

• “Good!” You grin. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

• “You have?” Both Lockie and The Urge have the same reaction: confusion. When you nod, she chews on her bottom lip and picks up the wheelbarrow’s handles and starts back towards the garage. You follow.

• “I’ve been wanting to ask you a question for ages, but you’re always so busy, and you never come to after work gatherings,” you sigh.

• “Well, uh, I’m busy now…” She says, parking her barrow outside and walking in to continue her work dismantling a tank. The Urge growls from within her, annoyed she’s pushing you away when you’re so close, so close The Urge can almost reach between her ribs and grab you.

• “Oh… well, it’ll be quick,” you grin. Lockie doesn’t say anything, but she’s listening as she rips a piece of metal off the side. “I was, uh, wondering if you wanted to go out sometime.”

• She freezes. So does The Urge. “What?” She whispers.

• “Go out… you know, like on a date?” She looks at you, your e/c eyes so full of hope. She can’t believe her ears, and neither can The Urge, who’s jumping up and down on her diaphragm in glee, making her chest tight. “So?”

• “I—if you want to,” she says softly, turning her back so you can’t see the deep blush on her tan skin and the victorious smile that The Urge paints onto her lips.

• “Great! How about you pick me up at seven?” You clap your hands together, and she agrees with a simple nod, and off you go, back to la la land.

• She needs ten minutes to recover. She has no idea what just happened, but The Urge is buzzing and mumbling inside her, excited to finally have a chance to come out and have its way with you. She doesn’t bother to calm it, knowing she was just as excited as it was.

• After all, The Urge was just something she made up to try and convince herself that she was infected by a creature, when in reality, it was all her and her dark desires.

#yandere #oc #x reader #oc x reader #yandere x reader #fem oc #fem reader

[florencetypemaniacs]

Trick or Treat Short Story

Summary: This Halloween MC has a treat for Aunt Zinnia but first they have to pull a little trick that involves a costume.

Notes: Happy Halloween and Enjoy this cute little story about little MC. MC will be called Marley Charter in this short story.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I wanna be a mouse for Halloween,” Marley Charter said, coloring a picture of Cinderella in her pumpkin carriage on the dining table.

Zinnia popped her head up from where she's making a bowl of ice cream for herself and Marley Charter. Triana was coming over for the night, and another fight with Francisco seemed to put a bitter taste in Triana's mouth. It made Zinnia's heart beat faster that Triana would rather spend the night on Zinnia's couch than make peace with her partner. Though, those feelings were quickly followed with guilt. It’s was nearing Marley's bedtime, but they gave Zinnia the doe eyes around seven o'clock, requesting they have just one more hour to see Triana.

“You mean you want to be Gus Gus?” Zinnia asked, leaning forward and looking at the picture Marley Charter was coloring. Cinderella had been Marley's hyperfixation for the past week, not for the princess herself but for her round-ear sidekicks, especially Gus Gus.

"Yeah, and you can be Cinderella,” Marley Charter declared.

They flipped through their coloring pages, pulling out a picture of Cinderella wearing a big dress with sparkles around her body and an old woman in the background with a wand. Marley waved them in her face. “You will look so pretty!" Their tone was filled with excitement.

Zinnia eyed the coloring page and tried not to cringe at the picture of the princesses smiling, literally mocking Zinnia. The blue ball gown looked like torture, and Zinnia would have rather been dead than to ever be in the same room with that blue monster with the sparks and the bows.

"Are you sure you don’t want me to go as the prince?" Zinnia asked. 

“Nah. We already have a prince,” Marley Charter said, taking the bowl of ice cream.

Zinnia groaned while Marley ate their ice cream. Zinnia just looked down at the picture in her hands.

The things I do for you, Suger Cube

--------

Triana didn't make it to Zinnia's house till much later, much to Marley's dismay, as they were sent to bed at eight o'clock, which almost sent the seven-year-old into a fit, but Zinnia promised that she would make them their favorite breakfast in the morning. The promise of good food settled the kid down.

Triana came into the bakery while Zinnia was cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow. Zinnia tried not to stare, but it was hard. Triana had an overnight bag over her shoulder, her fist clenched, probably to stop her claws from coming out.

"You want to talk about it?" Zinnia asked; she knew it was a waste of time. Triana never wanted to talk about the fights she had with her husband, and Zinnia was okay with that because she felt if she knew everything, it would take all her will not to punch Fransico in the face.

Triana looked at Zinnia and started to make herself some tea. "Not tonight." 

Zinnia sat down in the dining room, looking at Triana's curves while her back was turned.

Triana smiled and, with a hot cup of tea, sat next to her friend. 

“Marley Charter picked their Halloween costume tonight,” Zinnia said as Triana took a sip of tea.

“Oh yeah, what dynamic duo will they be this year?”

Triana said, smiling. Since Camila's and Marley's first Halloween, they have matched—maybe not the same character, but they have always picked from the same series or fandom, whatever they were into. The two kids often roped their Zinnia and Triana into matching with them. Zinnia and Triana often saw them planning their costumes months in advance; however, this year, it seemed to be kept on the down low until tonight.

“Cinderella,” Zinnia said with a sigh.

“As in?” Triana asked with a sly smile that Zinnia narrowed her eyes at.

"Gus Gus,” Zinnia said, pointing up to where Marley was sleeping upstairs. “Cinderella,” she said, gesturing to herself. 

“I am guessing that the Oleander gene passed on, and Marley Charter is too stubborn to pick another character for you?” Triana asked with a teasing tone that Zinnia huffed at.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Halloween Night.....

Zinnia furrowed her brows in the mirror, and her hair was pulled back in a headband to give everyone a clear view of her eyes, which unsettled her and were usually hidden by her black hair.

Marley Charter wanted to dye her hair blonde, but Zinnia was able to shut down that train before it even left the station.

But dying her hair blonde couldn't have been worse than trading her all black clothing for the blush-pink soft chiffon, with puffed sleeves and a ruffled neckline.

"This is for Marley." Zinnia repeated herself for the hundredth time, but her existential thoughts came to a halt when she heard a little voice. 

"Wow, you look beautiful!" A squeal came from behind Zinnia to see Marley Charter in their most adorable mouse costume that Zinnia had ever seen.

"Well, aren't you the cutest mouse I have ever seen?" Zinnia pulled Marley in for a hug and a small nuggy, which made the seven-year-old squeal in excitement.

"Thank you," Marley said between giggles.

The sound of the doorbell rang, and Marley's head popped up.

"Camila is here!" Marley jumped off the bed in a flash and ran down the stairs to meet their friend.

Zinnia sat on the bed for only a second before cracking her neck. "Come on, Orlender, you have fought actual monsters; you can walk in heels for a few hours." She said to herself, staggering on one foot down the stairs.

Zinnia looked up from her feet. "Don't you dare laugh if I fall down-." Zinnia stopped in her tracks, and her breath caught.

Zinnia had never seen Triana dress up; it was one of the things that she admired about the other woman—the natural beauty radiating off her made Zinnia's knees already feel like jelly.

Triana wore a cream royal jacket and red pants with a gold stripe, which went well with her hair up in a bun. The brown-haired woman's face had light makeup, and Zinnia wondered how the red sparkles on her eyelids stayed on.

Triana always looked beautiful, but Zinnia had to admit that tonight she looked like a goddess. But that wasn't what stunned her; Triana was prince charming while she was Cinderella; they kissed in the movie. THE CHARACTERS KISSED.  They were a couple in the movie. This had to count as a couple of costumes, right? Of course, it wasn't, but Zinnia had to admit that just thinking of her and Triana together like that made her heart swell.

"Hey, Zinnia, are you ready to go?" Triana's black-gloved hands went on the stroller that was by her side. The sight of a rosy-cheeked baby caught her eye as Luis slept, probably not even bothered that he was dressed up as a pumpkin.

Zinnia's mouth felt dry as she spoke. "I thought Camila was being Prince Charming."

Zinnia looked over to Marley, who ran around with Camila, who was dressed in a blue robe and wand.

Triana smiled. "Oh well, I think Marley gave Camila the idea to be a fairy godmother instead, while I was Prince Charming." Triana paused while Zinnia zoned out, processing the information.

"It doesn't bother you, right? That I am a prince charming? I know it can give people the idea that we are-" Triana started. 

"No!" Zinnia yelled, which made Triana jump a little in surprise, and Zinnia gave her an apologetic look before continuing.

"No." Zinnia said, softer this time. "It doesn't bother me." Zinnia didn't mean it to sound as out of breath as it did, but there were no takebacks.

NTriana licked her lips, and Zinnia realized how close they were. This was wrong. Triana was married. Triana was her best friend.

Zinnia pulled back, and Triana seemed to come out of some sort of trance.

"Should...uh...we get going?" Zinnia said, her eyes still on Triana's lips.

Triana nodded, a look of confusion written on her face. "Are we going to Cedar Street?" She asked, pushing the stroller out the door, which gave Camila and Marley the hint that it was time to go as they ran out the door onto the sidewalk.

"Cedar Street?! In these heels, you must be joking." Zinnia put her arm around Triana, the tension disappearing in an instant as they followed the hyper kids down the street.

It really was a happy Halloween.

#Zinnia #Interactive Fiction Short Story #happy halloweeeeeeen #twine interactive fiction #interactive fiction #interactive novel #Triana #My Inner Sins #Twine If #Character Side Story #Gay panic #queer #interactive story #interactive fiction if #interactive game #interactive fictions #MIS-OC:Zinnia #MIS-OC:Triana

[blondiest]

Chrissy + possibly cursed, Eddie + chewed up, Hellcheer + handmade ☺️🥰

hiiii bestie 🥰 thank you for this, i love these 👀

Chrissy + Possibly Cursed

Imo there's simply no way that Chrissy doesn't own some weird-ass old dolls (Laura Cunningham just gives me a ‘buys a lot of dolls for her daughter, some of which Chrissy is not even allowed to play with’ vibes). Honestly, Chrissy probably gets rid of most of them sometime between her and Eddie's first place and their fifth one, because lugging a bunch of dolls from studio apartment to studio apartment gets old fast and she's not actually fond of most of them. However, there is one Madame Alexander doll that she got gifted by her grandmother when she was seven— one that's wearing a little Dutch dress and has two small braids— that she always, always keeps. It was one of the ones she was actually allowed to play with, so it's kind of worn-out / ratty, and one of its eyes closes more often / easily than the other so it looks slightly wonky most of the time, but she loves it. Eddie definitely thinks it's cursed but, given his general attitude towards the creepy/cursed, he is 1000% fine with Chrissy keeping it around (not that he'd say otherwise even if he was against it — he adores her too much to make her part with something like that).

Eddie + Chewed Up

What does Eddie own that ISN'T chewed up? Kidding, kidding— plenty of things. Probably. However, absolutely none of his pens are intact. Whether he's writing a song or planning a new campaign or just studying (pre-graduation or for his occasional one-off class in music theory), he's chewing on the caps of his pens. It's a holdover from his smoking habit, maybe, or maybe just a general stim.

Hellcheer + Handmade

I dearly, dearly love the idea of them making things for each other. Like. God. They definitely do that. So— in all likelihood, they have a lot of handmade stuff (little painted miniatures of their DND characters, mixtapes [and later on, CD mixes] galore, unevenly-knitted but profoundly treasured scarves and mittens and hats that Chrissy made, some off-kilter-looking mugs and bowls that Eddie made, etc). But one of the items they use the most is their matching aprons. They made them together with those fabric paints and some plain storebought aprons; Eddie's has devil horns on it at least somewhere, and Chrissy's is more chaotic and messy than one might expect (very colorful, many mixed motifs— she had a blast making it).

headcanon asks for characters / ships and their possessions ❣️

#hellcheer #ask games #ty again this was delightful 🥰 #asks

[creepsmcstuffins]

Daily routine headcanons?

Creeps Daily Routines

You weren't really specific so I did this for individuals...

Slender

Big Boss usually spends his days doing work, attending meeting and general chaos tending

He does like to have dinner with the Creeps on occasion, when he has the time

He's still seen as their "Dad" because at first he treated them as children/proxies

He doesn't really have a sleep schedule, though naps sometimes are welcome, but their not long. Probably somewhere between 10 to 15 minutes

He makes time to play with Sally when she asks (that and he knows she misses him lots)

Masky/Tim

Usually is cleaning up after Toby and (sometimes) Jeff

Can be found in their office or lifting logs/weights in the forest/Mansion (cause their at peak)

In their office most days though

They keeps a constant routine of patrolling around the forests and Slender's domain

He switches between the forests and the domain two every four hours (he's got eyes everywhere, but he can't be too careful)

Hoodie/Brian

These two often switch out every two hours or so

But they keep the same schedule (roughly)

Shower in the morning, gaze into the mirror for 10 mins (affirmations they work), Missy Elliott's "Lose Control", get dressed, favorite hoodie (check), big breakfast (4 cereal bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch), Patrol with Masky/Tim.

After the 1st patrol, things get out of control and the day kinda gets away from them after 1:30 p.m.

Toby

Toby kinda just do

He doesn't really have much of a "daily routine"

He gets up when Tim gets him up (usually for brunch)

He washes his ass after and then will go back to bed, if Tim doesn't have a job for him

But other than that Toby will go about his day, either waiting on whatever job or finding some poor soul to beat the shit outta

Jeff

He wakes up about 3 in the afternoon

He needs his beauty sleep

Will take Smile.Dog on walks (E.J and Seedeater join them)

He and BEN usually take a break to play video games (the break lasts from 4:30 pm to 8:30 pm)

That's when he starts his actual work

Any jobs that are about to hit their deadlines are usually done from 9:30 pm to 2:45 am

Their pushed forward ahead of anything else he has to do.

After finishing paperwork, which is 2:45 am to 3:15 am (he half asses it)

3:15 am is usually bedtime

He's a simple man

Eyeless Jack

E.J doesn't sleep much either (not because of the Demon blood flowing through him, but because of his nightmares)

But he does get rest, he has to be in the Mansion

He's usually up at 3 am when he does rest

Most of his days are spent at any one of Dr.Smiley's facilities

Mostly in the presence of the Doctor himself

He gets home for lunch, he likes when everyone can be home for it

He helps whoever in the kitchen

Mostly will lounge around until it's time for Jeff to walk Smile.Dog, Seedy comes with

After the walk he goes to his room, or to complete whatever jobs he has to finish or start up

He journals after his jobs too, mostly his feelings, and whatever money he makes, and organs he harvests

Jane

She lives in the Overworld, mostly

She does have a room in the Mansion

But typically she'll be hunting poachers or doing her contracted jobs

Jane is quite flexible with her schedule, as she loves alone and doesn't have much responsibility beside feeding herself

She tends to hunt every two weeks, the meat she gets lasts pretty long, and she mostly forages

She takes in injured animals, so if she's got a bird or something like that with her, her energy goes into helping it heal up

She answers any phone calls from any of the other creeps, and will assist them on their jobs

I did these ones cause it wasn't really specific... hope that was ok...

#creepypasta #anon ask #jeff the killer #jane the killer #eyeless jack #slender #slenderman #ticci toby #tim wright #brian thomas #masky #hoodie

[toodingo]

Howdy hello I'm dingo!

As promised a dedicated penny/jane post 🙏 a conjunction of a bunch of penny hc with some other choir members sprinkled in

In this little universe I'm imagining all the kids get resurrected from the cyclone accident and after they come back Penny goes to live with Noel, so they got a sibling dynamic going on

Penny collects stuffed animals like currency, any time Noel gets a bonus from his job he buys Penny a new stuffed animal- her favorite is a sheep squishmellow

Penny and Constance have every class together and often do projects together 🤞 they are best friends

Noel and Penny have complete opposite styles so when they go anywhere they are so polarizing- they'll be shopping and it'll be ‘Edgar allan poe enthusiast with a tortured soul’ and ‘Shops at Claires’

Speaking of which she probably does shop at Claires, she most definitely got her ears peirced there, she lives laughs loves Claires

She often will often bring the choir quotes ripped straight from books... she can't read so it's really a gamble (she can read, she's just dyslexic and jokes about not being able to read)

Adding onto the dyslexia, she loves listening to audio books, her and Noel will often listen to them together, they've finished quite a number of books and Noel is really excited to finally find a way to show Penny his favorite pieces of literature

Constance and Penny play those like old flash dress up games, like the Winx club one and the unofficial warrior cat maker that everyone used, that's their jam

Mischa and Penny is an underrated friendship holy moly- I like to imagine that they collaborated on decorating oceans ‘choir picture/memory book palooza’ yes, that is the official title, Penny and Mischa decreed it, spelling it out in fun colorful sticker letters on the front- each page is covered in an obnoxious amount of wacky stickers, some puffy, some glittery, one page just has lps stickers- its great

Ocean and Penny take the most pictures, Ocean because she wants to save the memories of her favorite times with her friends and Penny because she wants to make her friends look like fools, Ocean doesn't like the pictures Penny takes but begrudgingly puts them in the picture/memory book

-- Noel would be on the unofficial picture taking committee but he is only interested in taking shitty ‘aesthetic’ pictures of like alley ways and putting a bunch of shitty filters on them /pos

Penny wants a cat, because they are cute and also because Ricky likes cats and she wants to impress? Him- Noel's mother is allergic to cats- it's a cruel and unfair world for her

Ricky and Penny are so cute, because they both have crushes on each other, neither express it but they just silently understand their affection for each other, they never make it official until Ricky final take her on a ‘date’ and it's not him finally building up enough courage to ask her out it's more like they go bowling and they both kind of agree it was a date

Penny's favorite show is a tie between strawberry shortcake, pretty little liars, and breaking bad. Constance introduced her to strawberry shortcake, Noel and her binge pretty little liars and Ricky and her had many date nights watching breaking bad. She can't choose which one she likes more

I have a headcanon on everyone's favorite movie genre so allow me to share- Penny's is horror oddly enough, she finds it so fun to watch, Mischas is action obviously but he's also a secret fan of romance and will watch any cheesy romance movie Noel suggests, Noel obviously loves the romance genre but like- shitty drama romance, Ocean, on the other hand, prefers romcoms and documentaries, Constance likes any comedy movie but most often watches romcoms with Ocean, quite honestly Constance could just watch a stand up act and be pleased, and Ricky, of course, loves sci-fi, he lives for that shit

Penny and Ricky go as peanut butter and jelly for Halloween one year but, furrified- they got the little jars and put on cat ears in their respective colors- it's was cute, strange but cute

I could come up with these all day but this list is getting a bit too long- maybe I'll make a pt. 2 electric Boogaloo

#ride the cyclone #rtc #penny rtc #penny lamb #jane rtc #jane doe #mischa rtc #mischa bachinski #noel rtc #noel gruber #constance rtc #constance blackwood #ocean rtc #ocean oconnell rosenberg #ricky rtc #ricky potts #headcanon #i live laugh love penny #sorry this is long

[iheartralphmacchio]

The Karate Kid x Self Inserted OC! (K-12 Edition!)

Wake up.. You’re gonna be late.

The clock was then levitating and then thrown. Rosanna got out of bed and sat on it.

“Wait.. what was my dream again?” Rosanna mumbled and got up. She walked to her calendar.

“I remember feeling trapped in rising heat, and there were plastic or cardboard cutouts all around me, and my gums’ roots were pushing out my teeth, and the voice of a thousand angels said to me, “It’s temporary.”.” Rosanna said and then grabbed a crayon from the jar and drew a heart on her calendar.

Then Rosanna put the crayon back in the jar and started to walk away.

“Maybe that should be my mantra as I step into what will inevitably be the worst years of my life.” Rosanna mumbled.

Rosanna was near her closet and she kept speaking.

“Ah yes, off to a world in which girls are to wear pink dresses and boys blue pants. Well, I dyed my uniform and embroidered flowers on the sleeves.” Rosanna said and then laughed.

“Speaking of, I should probably change into my uniform right now. Nah.. That shit’s itchy. It can wait.” Rosanna said as she stepped inside the closet and changed. She then went out and walked to the bathroom.

She spoke again while in the bathroom.

“Oh yeah. And in my dream, you know, when the air below me was sucking my teeth out of their sockets, I noticed that my front two teeth stayed and the gap between them just kept getting larger and larger. How’s that even possible? I know right?” Rosanna said.

Rosanna walked to the kitchen to make her breakfast.

“I wish my mom wasn’t passed out right now and could at least drive me to the bus stop.” Rosanna said.

She tried to pour a bowl of cereal but a tarantula pops out of the box.

“Phillipe? What are you doing in there? Don’t scare me like that!” Rosanna talked to her tarantula as it crawled away.

“What was that angel’s name again? Was it Damian or Dante? No, I think it was Daniel.” Rosanna confessed while mumbling.

Rosanna is seen on the bus, next to her friend, Ali.

“I feel so sick.” Rosanna confessed.

“I can’t believe we have to do this.” Ali said.

“Do you think we’ll make any friends?” Rosanna asked.

“I hope so, but at least we have eachother.” Ali said.

“That’s true.” Rosanna said and smiled.

Then a paper airplane hits Rosanna. She opens it and it reads “gap toothed bitch”.

“Seriously? What does it say?” Rosanna asks Ali and gives the paper to her.

Ali then gets up and looks at the boy who sent the paper airplane.

“Real mature!” Ali stood up for Rosanna.

Then 2 boys started to say something.

“Aw, sad little baby! Go on!” The boys said.

“Does the bunny wabbit need some tissues?” Kelly said.

“I bet she has some in her bra!” Maya called out.

“It’s okay, just ignore them. Just plastic assholes.” Ali comforted Rosanna.

Then the kids started to chant.

“Crybaby, wah-wah!”

“This is.. K-12.” Rosanna said.

(WHEELS ON THE BUS)

The bus is thrown off the road and into the body of water below. The kids scream.

Rosanna was on the floor.

“C’mon! Get up! What are you doing?” Ali said and helped Rosanna up to her seat just right next to Ali.

Then, Rosanna and Ali used their powers and the bus is lifted to the sky.

“We should hang here more often.” Rosanna confessed.

“It’s so much better up here.” Ali said.

“This isn’t real... This isn’t real...” A boy said.

“Should we land this thing?” Rosanna said to Ali.

“Mm, Nah.” Ali said.

“I’m gonna jump out this window!” A boy said.

Then, Ali and Rosanna landed the bus right infront of the school. They got out. They bowed but didn’t face the driver.

Their panties said..

The bell chimed as Rosanna and Ali were going up the stairs.

“I don’t know why people are so scared of death.” Rosanna said.

“I agree. It’s just another part of life.” Ali said.

“You start in the womb and you end in the tomb.” Rosanna said.

“Wait a second. Where is everybody?” Ali asks.

“I don’t know if it’s because it’s cold in here, but I’m getting kind of a creepy chill down my back..” Rosanna said.

“I love it!” Rosanna and Ali said at the same time.

A ghost figure passes them behind which causes them to look behind them.

“What even was that?” Ali said.

“Scary.” Rosanna said.

They finished going up the stairs with their bookbags.

Rosanna sighs, “What’s the room number again?”

“222.” Ali responds.

Then doors show. One on the left said..

“221.” Rosanna said.

The one on the right said..

“223.” Ali said.

The one in the middle said..

“222.” They said.

The door opens and they see the classroom filled up besides two seats. Their seats.

“Class, would you like to inform Rosanna and Ali of what rule they did not follow today?” Ms. Daphne said.

“When the bell rings, you must be in your assigned seat.” The whole class said in unison.

“What are ya deaf? Sit your asses down!” Ms. Daphne said.

“Sorry, Ms. Daphne.” Rosanna and Ali muttered.

The loudspeaker notification beeps.

“All must stand for the pledge of allegiance. All rise!” The loudspeaker said.

“Henry! On your feet!” Ms. Daphne yelled at a boy.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands...” The loudspeaker and students said in unison.

“I’m being generous with you, boy.” Ms. Daphne said.

“One nation under God...” The students and loudspeaker said.

“Last chance to stand...” Ms. Daphne said.

“Indivisible...” The loudspeaker and students said.

“And show some respect!” Ms. Daphne yelled.

“With liberty and justice for all.” The loudspeaker and students finished.

“You hear that? Liberty and justice for all? That’s bullshit.” Henry said.

Ms. Daphne presses a button. It beeps, calling security.

The door opens violently.

“Grab the boy. Get that one.” The man said.

“Quiet!” Another man said.

“Get off me! I didn’t do anything!” Henry said.

“Take him to the holding!” A man shouted.

“Put him in the back. This is what you get!” Another man shouted.

The three exit and the door slams shut.

Then, it was naptime. Rosanna and Ali find a secret passageway under the bed.

Rosanna flicks a light on.

“Ali?” Rosanna called out.

“I’m over here! Can you hear me?” Ali called out.

“Yea, where are you?” Rosanna asked.

“I’m trying to follow your voice.” Ali called out.

Ali got close to Rosanna.

“There you are.” Ali said.

“Finally. How do they expect us to sleep in here?” Rosanna said.

“I don’t know. I am kind of sleepy though.” Ali said

END OF CHAPTER 1.

#k 12 melanie martinez #karate #daniel larusso x reader #the karate kid #cobra kai #tkk #daniel larusso

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama (DeCoteau, 1988)

This review contains spoilers.

Not a lot to this, but if you accept that there’s a cap on how good this will be, it’s pretty enjoyable on its own modest terms. I’m no David DeCoteau expert, but this has similarities with Nightmare Sisters in that it stars Linnea Quigley, Michelle Bauer and Brinke Stevens, has a plot that relates to fratboy types and sororities and related horndog behaviour, and is mostly set in one location. When I say there isn’t a lot to this, it’s that there isn’t a great deal of incident in its eighty minute runtime, no particularly outlandish possibilities entertained as a result of its premise (a sorority prank results in the protagonists getting trapped in a a bowling alley unleashing an evil imp, who possesses some of them and sics them on the other), so really how much you enjoy this depends on how much hanging out with these actors. And I like Quigley, Bauer and Stevens quite a bit, so I had a good enough time. A bunch of stray observations:

I complained in my review of the 2021 Mortal Kombat that the digital cinematography in that movie looked dark, murky and flat. The cinematography in this movie is certainly dark, but what a world of difference it makes when these things are shot on film and some thought goes into the lighting. Because the characters are running around a bowling alley at night, it’s understandably pretty dark, but the lighting in this movie all looks like a portal was blown open from another dimension, and the impossibly bright beams that emanate from it are enough to blind you.

The imp (who is voiced with a… racially questionable cadence) grants each of the characters a wish. Naturally one of them wishes to make it with Bauer, and pretty much all the nudity in the movie comes from this scene. (DeCoteau lovingly photographs the guy shirtless in addition to Bauer in the buff.) Most of the other wishes have a monkey’s paw element (gold that turns out not to be gold, a prom dress in tatters), and the twist here is that Bauer is a bit too excited? The way the movie edits this scene it seems like it might have gone on for a long time, but the guy nervously protests that she’s going too fast for him. There’s probably something interesting here about fratboy types getting cold feet when their fantasies might actually true combined with the bluntness with which the female nudity is presented.

Early in the movie there’s a sorority hazing sequence where Bauer and Stevens are paddled on their behinds in loving closeup. I’ve never been in a sorority, because I’m a dude, but have also never been in a fraternity, but I’ve always gotten an uncomfortably sexual vibe from depictions of hazing rituals. And this movie seemingly shares my viewpoint, as the head of the sorority gets transformed into a dominatrix after she’s possessed by the imp. Again, there’s probably some overarching commentary around sexual mores that can be read into the movie that’s maybe a bit more complex than the moralizing one associates with slasher movies of the era.

The male lead of the movie is introduced watching horror movies, and announces that he’d rather do that than go spy on the sorority house, and I’ve never related more strongly to a movie character in my life. Interestingly, while his friends are more concerned with peeping on girls and getting laid, he’s the only one who actually tries to form an actual relationship of equals with a woman in the movie. Of course, that woman is a burglar from the wrong side of the tracks played by Linnea Quigley, who, as she often does, totally steals the movie. But the fact that both of these characters have motivations and ways of thinking removed from the fratboy / sorority mindset ensures that they survive the ordeal.

In the parlance of a wise man, I’ve done the research, I’ve looked at the facts, I’ve analyzed the hard data and my conclusion is that there are few things more adorable than the specific way Quigley darts her eyes and curls the ends of her lips when she breaks into a covert smile.

#film #movie review #sorority babes in the slimeball bowl-o-rama #david decoteau