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#back to the pony shelf you go
buzzingroyalty · 1 month
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fixed up an old old custom king sombra
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gglitch1dd · 1 month
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Does Izuku have a breeding kink and if so would it act up while Reader is pregnant?
Honey, respectfully... who the hell do you think you're talking to? OF COURSE HE HAS A BREEDING KINK. You're looking at the queen of breeding kinks and the mha boys.
Marshmallows
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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"Now suddenly, everything is my fault!" Your husband joked motioning to himself making all his friends laugh.
Sato shook his head with an understanding laugh. "If she can't reach the top shelf? If she can't tie her shoes? If she can't get out of bed, guess who's fault it is?"
"Mine." Izuku motioned to himself.
Sero shook his head with a sigh, rubbing his eyebrows. "Mina will find anything I do a problem! I breathe and she's angry at me."
"Who started this baby wave in the first place?" Denki asked with a loud laugh.
Izuku looked to Sato with a pointed look. "It all started with Rikkido-"
"No, no, no Izuku." Sato started with a laugh as he looked to the greenhaired man. He pointed a finger to the man beside him with the hand that had his cola. "You and YN said you wanted to start trying and then Pony suddenly wanted a baby too."
"Yah but you guys got pregnant first." Izuku counted. "It was you, then me, then Tenya, then Hanta and Shoto and then somewhere on the way Kacchan and Eijiro hopped on board with their surrogate mothers." He motioned to the couple in front of him.
"When are you going on leave?" Sero asked, motioning to Izuku.
Izuku leaned back with a cider in hand. "As soon as YN goes into labor." He spoke factually.
"Seriously!?" Tenya asked in surprise, shifting his glasses up.
Izuku nodded his head. "I want every second with my wife and son." He tells all of them. "The commission has permitted me up to five months of paternity leave, regardless if I start it before or after the birth." He expressed.
Katsuki scoffed as he leaned back in his seat. "I'm only taking three months off." He stated.
Eijiro turned to him with furrowed eyebrows. "I thought we both agreed we'd take the eight months off considering we're having two within the space of five months." Eijiro said with a tilted head, not remembering Katsuki saying that to him.
Katsuki rolled his eyes. "I can't take off all that time Eijiro, think of the ratings, especially with Deku off. I'll be off for our son's birth."
"But what about our daughter?"
"Your daughter will have you." Katsuki motioned to Eijiro. "So it will be fine."
"Izuku!" Waddling over to the table of men that were sitting outside was you. You held a hand to your heavily pregnant stomach.
Izuku stood up and walked over to you. You looked absolutely radiant in his eyes. You stood in a green maternity dress, your breast having grown with milk and looked so tempting. Izuku thought you looked absolutely gorgeous, heavy with his son inside of you.
He put a hand to your stomach as he placed a kiss to the side of your head. "Hello love."
"I need your help. None of us can reach the marshmallows." You told him with a pout.
At the sound of the request, the men laughed. At the sound of their laughter you pouted as you moved to look at Izuku. Izuku raised his hands in innocence as he laughed as well, moving to stir you in the direction back inside your house.
You hummed in displeasure. "I don't see what's so funny." You let out clearly upset (due to hormones).
Izuku chuckled. "It's nothing my love. We were just joking." He informed you.
You waddled past the other wives that were in the sitting room together, going straight to the walk in pantry. You motioned up to the top shelf with a frown. Izuku laughed as sitting there idly was a packet of marshmallows.
Without even going on the tips of his toes he grabbed the marshmallow packet, however the next thing he turned around he saw you pushing him against the shelfs. His green eyes widened in shock at the occasion but at the sight of you unbuckling his belt he couldn't say he wasn't surprised. He chuckled.
You let out a needy whine. "Quickly." You whispered.
Izuku chuckled as he quickly moved the both of you. He flipped you around, allowing you to be against the shelves, putting your hands on the shelves. Izuku flipped over your dress, moving to take out his cock. He shook his head as he saw your gleaming wet pussy aching and twitching. "I thought I told you to wear panties today." His voice came out low as he moved to spread your lips.
A squeal left your mouth as you whimpered. You looked back at him half wishing he would just shove his cock in you already. "I know. I know, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it."
Izuku watched as a small bit of cum started to leak out of your cunt from earlier. He hummed before pushing the fat head of his cock inside of you. He quickly covered your mouth as your eyes rolled back, your hips stuttering.
He shook his head. "Such a little slut, coming just with the tip inside." He moved his hands to your hips, knowing that you were supporting yourself well enough. He looked down at the way your cunt gripped his cock. He groaned as he pushed deeper inside your tight pussy. Without hesitation, he moved his hips, slamming into you.
It felt so good. So good that you couldn't help but whine into the palm of his hand as he fucked you hard against the shelves. You had been aching for him since this morning from the morning sex you part took in. You gripped onto the shelves hard, your eyes looking up to the ceiling as you felt him hit that spot inside you with every thrust.
Izuku let out a low growl as he fucked you fast and hard, feeling your pussy milk his cock as he did so. "You had to go on and wear this fucking dress, huh? Busy trying to show off your body in front of all our friends, knowing it would get me pent up."
He cussed out as he moved his hand off your hips and grabbing your thigh. He spread your legs, lifting your right leg up and to the side to hook onto the shelf. Another hard thrust made you shout, muffled by his hand as he felt you cream against his cock.
He let out a low groan at the feeling of your velvety cunt. "You look so good, darling. So fucking good, carrying my child inside you. Is that why you didn't wear panties even with our friends around?" He asked as he leaned closer to your ear. A smirk was on his lips as he did so. "You knew I'd wanna stuff your pretty little cunny full again like I did this morning. Do you like the feeling of my cum dripping out of you while you chat pretty with your friends? My pretty little cumdrunk wife who can't even spend three hours without begging for a nice good fucking." Izuku let out a low curse.
He wasn't going to last long at this rate and he had to get you back to your friends and him back outside before things got suspicious. '
"It's a good thing I've got you pregnant and barefoot, honey. It's where you belong. Such a good girl." He praised, his thrusts getting faster.
You whined, begging him to cum inside you. It's all you wanted to feel again. Feel his seed deep inside you just like the one that was planted in your womb growing into a sprout. You tried meeting his hips back to match his thrusts but soon your wish was answered as Izuku buried his face in the crook of your neck, coming inside you.
You shivered in ecstasy, barely holding yourself up at this point as your eyes rolled back in pleasure just at the feeling of his spent inside you. You twitched for a moment before sighing, leaning against him.
Izuku took a breath before carefully pulling out from his pocket a set of cotton panties. He pulled out of you slowly before moving to stuff his cock back into his pants. He crouched down, pulling up your new pair, slapping it on you. He pulled down your dress and slapped your ass.
He took out a few packets of marshmallows and chips. He left one packet in front of you to take out once you're ready. He kissed your head. "Don't take too long." Izuku walked out, carrying the bags. "Sorry! We couldn't find the ones you liked Mina but we did find those chips!" He said outloud making sure you heard the excuse he had made up. "Y/N was in tears at not bringing you the ones you were craving."
You tries standing back up straight on shakey legs. You couldn't help but clench at the thought that he had been keeping a set of your underwear in his pocket this entire time because he knew you'd disobey him regardless
-Glitch1d
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heyyy can u pls do sfw/nsfw matt with tough gf😮‍💨😮‍💨
Tough- M. Sturniolo
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pairing: Tough!reader x Boyfriend!Matt
classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons
inspiration: request^^
warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship
summary: head cannons of Matt with a tough girlfriend!
☆SFW
For your entire life you’ve been classified using one word: tough. You’re extremely resilient, stubborn, and hardworking, and these are all qualities Matt loves about you.
☆ You refuse to ask for help, even when you desperately need it and most times Matt doesn’t even know you needed help to begin with.
☆ A flat tire stares back at you, taunting and challenging you to change it.
☆ You roll up your sleeves and throw your hair up in a pony tail, gathering the tools necessary to swap the tire out.
☆ Sweat is dripping down your face and glistening against your shoulders. “Babe? What are you doing?” Matt asks, watching tentatively from the porch.
☆ “Changing this damn tire,” you grunt, tightening the last bolt before throwing the wrench back into the tool box.
☆ You prefer comfort so your wardrobe is a mix between girly and tomboy, consisting mainly of graphic t-shirts and baggy jeans.
☆ “I’m ready,” you say, hopping off the last step as you enter the living room.
☆ Matt leans against the couch, peering behind him to catch a glimpse of you. “Is that my shirt?” he asks, getting up to examine your outfit better.
☆ “Yup. Let’s go, we’re gonna be late,” you reply, placing a cap over your straightened hair and adjusting your plethora of necklaces.
☆ “She lowkey got that shit on though,” Chris chuckles from beside Matt, earning himself a playful push.
☆ Sometimes you don’t measure your words or your tone, forgetting that you’re talking to your boyfriend and not one of your ‘homies.’
☆ When the conversation is normal, he ignores it. But when your tone meanders into rude territory, he immediately puts an end to it.
☆ “Dude, what the fuck?! I cleaned that shit yesterday! How is it already dirty, bro?” you exclaim, hands pointing accusatorially at Matt.
☆ “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just talk to me like that,” he responds, jaw clenched. “Let’s start over, yeah?”
☆ You take a deep breath, exhaling all your anger before replying, “Babe, what the heck?! I cleaned that thing yesterday! How is it already dirty, baby?”
☆ Matt knows you threw the pet names in there for show, but he appreciates you trying, even if it is laced with sarcasm.
☆ You’re insanely strong and when you’re not at home or at work, you’re at the gym.
☆ “I’ll be back in like an hour, okay? We can order something for dinner when I get back,” you peck Matt’s check, slinging your duffel back over your shoulder.
☆ “Hmm okay,” he murmurs, delivering a quick slap to your ass.
☆ Matt’s grateful that you aren’t overly affectionate in public, mostly because he’s extremely reserved and prefers to keep your relationship private.
☆ The most you’ll do is hold his hand, hug him, or kiss his cheek. Sometimes you’ll be even less affectionate when around his friends and siblings.
☆ That doesn’t mean you don’t mark your territory though, especially when you get jealous.
☆ “Hi baby,” your voice is high-pitched and excited, a very unusual mix coming from you. You cling to Matt’s side as another girl tries chatting him up.
☆ “Hi,” he replies, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your ass. He’s slightly confused, but quickly realizes you’re jealous.
☆ When you start kissing, the girl finally gets the hint and leaves. “Dumb bitch,” you grumble, pulling away from Matt slightly.
☆ He chuckles and pulls you back in, showing you he only has eyes for you.
☆ “Need help?” Matt asks from behind you, watching as you struggle to reach something from the top shelf.
☆ “Nope. Almost got it,” you reply, your tongue poking out in concentration.
☆ Matt pushes against your backside, wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he reaches over you.
☆ “Here,” he hands the item to you, watching the frustration leave your face.
☆ Arguments, although they’re few and far between, can escalate very quickly between you two.
☆ You’re both stubborn, so no matter what you always believe you’re right.
☆ Angry, hurtful words are exchanged and before you know it you’re both storming off in opposite directions.
☆ You’re not one to cry easily, but if the argument is frustrating enough the tears will start flowing.
☆ “Y/n?” Matt asks tentatively, peering into your shared bedroom to find you curled up under the blankets. Your small sniffles fill the room.
☆ A frown forms on his face as he joins you under the covers, immediately you pulling into him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, pecking your forehead. “Me too,” you hiccup, burying your face in his chest.
☆ You’re not afraid to slap Matt’s ass, especially after he does it to you.
☆ At first he used to hate it, but now he knows to expect it.
☆ Usually you’ll sneak your hand into the back pocket of his pants afterwards, walking around like that no matter where you are.
☆ A long list of to-do’s is constantly forming in your mind, even on your days off, and you’re not afraid to get bossy so it can all get done.
☆ “Matt, you mow the lawn and wash the cars. I’ll clean the house and do the laundry,” you instruct.
☆ “So bossy,” he laughs.
☆ “Or you can just do all of it?” you suggest with a quirked brow and a sassy hand on your hip. “No ma’am, I’m going.”
☆ “Mhm that’s what I thought.”
☆NSFW
Your tough girl attitude can sometimes get you in trouble, earning you punishments that put you in your place.
☆ When you’re together in private, Matt sees a side of you that you never show the world.
☆ You’re sweet and soft, juxtaposing the tough girl demeanor you usually display. If you ever act up in public, though, Matt is quick to remind you of this when you’re in private.
☆ “Wanna act stupid? Yeah?” He grunts, hips rocking against you at an ungodly pace.
☆ You whimper, too fucked out to respond. “That’s what I fucking thought,” his harsh words are followed by a hand wrapping around your throat.
☆ Your smart mouth is usually what gets you in trouble. “You think you look cute talking to me like that? Embarrassing me in front of all our friends?”
☆ He holds a firm grip of your face, forcing you to make eye contact as you reply with a hum.
☆ That’s enough for him to shove you into the bed, face down ass up. He slips into you without hesitation, hips snapping so harshly against your skin that the sound echoes throughout the room.
☆ “Not gonna stop until you learn your lesson,” he growls, pulling your hair into a ponytail and using it as leverage to fuck you harder.
☆ The pleasure is so good that you don’t even want it to stop, you just use your smart remarks to egg him on.
☆ Other times, your attitude travels into the bedroom and you have Matt beneath you completely overstimulated.
☆ “Y/n— fuck! I can’t anymore,” his words are choked, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to focus on lasting longer.
☆ “Yes you can baby, I know you can” you purr, rocking your hips back and forth on his cock.
☆ Without another warning, his hips are stuttering as his hot cum paints your walls. That was his fourth orgasm and you show no signs of stopping soon.
☆ He loves teasing you because he knows you’ll get riled up enough to dominate him.
☆ He’s leaned against the headboard, eagerly awaiting your next move.
☆ You crawl over to him, situating yourself over his crotch. Instinctively, his hands travel to your hips, a firm grip pushing you down on his erection.
☆ A tsk escapes your lips, “You’re not gonna get what you want that easily, baby. You’re gonna have to work for it.”
☆ Your words put him in a trance and he’s ready to comply to your every command.
MASTERLIST
A/n: she (me) is not tuff - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @hearts4chris @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
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imdead770 · 5 months
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The Outsiders x Reader Headcannons
♡ Random things the gang would do if you dated them ♡
Darry -
He's fixing everything for you. Your shelf broke? Give him 15 minutes. Your car broke? He'll get Sodapop to fix it up for you. Your heart broke? He's fixing it. This man is Fix-it Felix.
I feel like he wouldn't be the biggest PDA guy, but if you're both alone, he's probably holding you in some way shape or form. Your back against his chest, your head on his shoulder with his arm around you, it's happening and he's perfectly happy with it.
Sodapop -
I don't know why, but I feel like Sodapop picked a specific night for both of you to just spend time together and relax. Probably a Saturday night since he won't have to worry about work. It's just a night where you sit together, eat ice cream, and watch a movie. He'll hold you and quietly talk to you, randomly peppering kisses on your face.
^ this makes me so lovesick holy shit ^
This man is HUGE on pda. He'll hold your hand, have his arm around your waist, kiss your forehead. As long as you're comfortable with it, he'll shower you with affection 25/8
Ponyboy -
He WILL watch sunsets with you. He'll take your hand, run you outside to his porch and sit on the steps with you. Your head rested on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.
" You were right Pony.. it's beautiful.. "
" Not as beautiful as you.. "
I know it's cliche but stfu
I feel like he isn't really used to PDA, so he doesn't really initiate it. But the moment you do anything, from holding his jaw as you kiss him to entertwining your fingers with his, his heart melts. With a bit of time, he'll return the favor, he just needs to get comfortable.
Johnny -
I don't know if this is accurate, but I feel like he'd bring you flowers. No reason, he just wanted to bring his girl flowers. He'll bring you your favorite if he can. If he can't find some he'll pick the prettiest ones he can find. You had to buy a vase for just how often he brings you flowers.
We all know this boy is shy, but I feel like once he warms up to you PDA is just normal. Not big PDA like Soda, but he likes holding your hand in public. In private he'll hold you against him, play with your hair, the whole thing.
Dallas -
He takes you to so many of Buck's parties it's not even funny. You're bored? He'll take you to go dance. You're stressed? He'll sit at the bar and drink with you. You don't drink? Well shit.
☆ On the dancing note, he's not a huge dancer, but he'll stand beside you to make sure nobody steps out of line. He also 100% watches your ass while you sway your hips. Probably grinds if we're being honest.
On the PDA side, he isn't big on it, in public or in private. Gotta maintain that tough guy image. He might have his hand in your back pocket or around your hip. In private he won't be big on it at first, but after a bit he might hold you. Not like hold-hold, but he'll put his arms around you.
Two-Bit -
I swear on my life, this man will throw the worst pick-up lines at you. He doesn't care that you're already dating, he'll do it.
" Yknow, if you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber. "
" Two-Bit, I love you, but shut the fuck up. "
PDA wise, he'll do it. That's about it. He'll do it. He wouldn't make out with you on the spot, but he'll hold you, kiss you on the cheek, whatever. He'll do it.
Steve -
He'd try to bake with you. This isn't a regular thing, but I think since he likes chocolate cake so damn much, he'd decide to make it. He just decided to bring you along for the ride. To summarize it, it was a mess.
" Steve.. when did that milk expire? "
" Says.. December, why? "
" What year, Steve. "
" ... Ohhh.. "
This mf is just a leveled-down Dallas ( in the best way possible ). He acts all tough/tuff but would do subtle acts. Hands around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, the basics. In private he'd definitely hold you, though.
I love them all so much
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sweetsreverie · 9 months
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could you write a drabble where darry’s girlfriend is totally adored by the rest of the boys and she’s almost motherly to them?
bro... thank you for planting this idea in my head ♡︎
pairing: darry curtis x f!reader wc: 972 warnings/notes: none
You met Darry six months ago while you were at the grocery store. You were clearly having trouble trying to reach something on the top shelf and he offered to help you, retrieving the item and handing it to you with a charming, kind smile. The two of you ended up talking in the spice aisle for nearly ten minutes before you both realized that you had places to be. Darry had scribbled his home phone number on your grocery list before leaving. Since then, you mostly saw him on the weekends when he wasn’t working, or on the rare occasion that he wasn’t totally exhausted after work, you would see him for dinner.
It took a while for him to introduce you to his brothers, and eventually the rest of their little gang. But when he did, he came to notice that the boys treated you differently than anyone else. They seemed to respect you, and they didn’t really pick on you or mess with you like they did other people. That was also partially because you seemed to take care of them, and honestly you didn’t even think much of it. You just found yourself doing little things for them here and there. It started with you cleaning up Darry’s work boots one night, and then you ironed Sodapop’s work shirt one day while he was running late for work, and you’ve helped Ponyboy with his homework on multiple occasions when he was struggling through his math homework. 
It made Darry’s heart swell, especially when you took care of Ponyboy and Soda. Ever since their mom died, they haven’t had a female, or even somewhat of a motherly figure in their life. Darry could be tough on them, so having your gentle nature around was almost comforting for them.
Today you had the day off of work so you spent some time at the Curtis’ house. Darry was working so you tried to clean up the place to take it off of his shoulders. Besides, you sometimes spent the night with Darry and ate dinner with them, so you figure you might as well pull your own weight and treat the place as your own. 
“You know Y/N, this ain’t even your house. You don’t have to clean up after us.” Pony says while he sits on the couch and Johnny sits on the floor near the coffee table, and the two of them were playing ‘go fish’.
“Well- I stay here enough and eat enough of yall’s food, I might as well. And I don’t want Darry to have to worry about it when he gets back from work.” You explain as you wipe down the kitchen table with a damp cloth.
Ponyboy smiles softly at that before he looks down at the cards in his hand. “Well… I know that Darry really appreciates it. He probably don’t show it or say it, but… I know he does.” Pony tells you with a little nod.
“I just know he’s got a lot on his plate, and I don’t see you boys helping him clean up much.” You say, the teasing tone clear in your voice while you grin over at Pony. Pony’s expression turns sheepish immediately, and Johnny even chuckles at your playful scolding.
Later that evening when Darry comes home, you stand in the kitchen with him while you two wait for dinner to finish cooking. After a few moments, Darry turns to you as you’re leaning against the counter.
“You know, Ponyboy told me you scolded him like a mother today.” Darry says, and you groan and shake your head.
“I did not! I was just messing with him-” You insist, and Darry laughs.
“He knows that, doll face. I just… think it’s funny. You really do take care of us.” Darry says with a little smile while he reaches for your hand.
You think about it for a second, and you realize that you really do take care of these boys.
“Well… you’re my boys. And someone’s gotta keep some order around here.” You tell Darry with a grin. You hear the front door open, and you poke your head out from around the doorway to see Sodapop and Steve.
“Aht aht, don’t bring them dirty boots in the house. Leave ‘em on the porch.” You tell the two of them, and Ponyboy laughs as they turn back around and begin to take their boots off on the porch.
When you turn back to Darry in the kitchen, the man is just grinning from ear to ear.
“What were you saying about keeping order around here?” He asks jokingly and you can’t help but laugh.
“Hell, even Dally listens to you. You must have instilled some kinda fear in him or something.”
You laugh at that and shake your head, and you move closer to Darry so you’re tucked in his side.
“But… really. Ever since our folks passed, Pony and Soda haven’t really had… a woman to care for them, or like.. A mother figure. If you know what I mean.” Darry tries to explain, and you nod while giving him a little smile.
“I understand, Darry. Really- and… I’m happy to be that for them. I know I can never replace your mom, and I don’t want to- but… I’m happy to look after them. I know it's hard for you to do on your own.” You explain to Darry, and he lets out a quiet sigh while he looks down at you with an expression of admiration.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?” Darry asks, and you laugh softly.
“Yeah. Once or twice I think.” You tease him lightly before the two of you carry on with making dinner before the boys in the living room start getting too rowdy.
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dahliamalfoy97 · 1 year
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INITIATION - Muzan x y/n reader
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Muzan x y/n reader smut one shot
Synopsis: Y/N has woken up and has no memory of who she is. Muzan is there to remind her.
Warning: SMUT 18+!!, MDNI, rough sex, oral, monster kink, size kink, masochism, degradation kink, praise kink. Slapping, choking, tentacles, Kidnapping, detailed murder, blood, slight dub con, kidnapping, a little manipulative, penetration, anal sex, double penetration, gagging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie. Just so much filthy things because Muzan is a sick motherfucker so this one shot is probably just as twisted so proceed with caution!
word count: 4k+
Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you feel is utter confusion. For you have no memory of where you were or who you were. Your mind was completely blank and you no memory of anything. The next thing you notice is, you're lying down on what seems to be a table.
The first thing that you see, is a pair of scarlet red eyes boring in your eyes. They were so bright and unnerving at the same time. As the source of these eyes came into focus, you could see he was a man, with inky, curly, black hair, which was tied back into a pony tail and had pale skin. He wore a black dress button down shirt with a white tie. He was striking.
"Oh good," the man speaks content tone, as he notices that you're finally awake. "You're finally awake."
"W-who who are you? And where am I?" You ask, in a voice so soft, you weren't sure if he heard you cause you could barely hear yourself.
"My name is Muzan and you are in my home," he replies cryptically. "This is the Infinity Castle."
His name and the place sounded familiar but nothing came to mind as to why.
"And why am I here?"
He just smiles, and there's something about it that makes your skin tingle. You weren't sure if it was out of fear or something else.
"You are here because I found you on the brink of death, you were on the street and you needed a home."
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion , "But how come I don't remember anything? I don't even know my name."
"That's because I turned you into a demon, and sometimes the process can erase all traces of your past life. Call it a new slate if you will," he reaches for what looks like a vial of red liquid from a shelf and shakes it. "Here drink this, this will cure the sudden hunger you're feeling."
As if on cue, your stomach grumbles, "w- what, did you say demon? Demons exist?" You ask in wonder. "So is that blood in that vial?"
That grin turns prideful, "we exist and we are the most powerful beings to walk this planet. And yes this is blood, because this is what helps you stay strong and the more you consume the more powerful you'll become. But only human blood works. Animal blood cannot keep you healthy."
An unsettling feeling settles in your stomach, "so I have to kill in order to survive?"
"Only if you choose to go through this transformation, if you don't I'll have to kill you as I won't have any use for you otherwise."
this man was much more sinister and cunning than he appeared. You're sure a normal human would have been afraid or dying to get out of this situation. But you were intrigued. Despite the fact that he was probably a terrible man and a murderer- you were fascinated by him. Perhaps it was the fact that he saved you from whatever life you had lived before.
"So why did you choose me to turn into a demon?"
"Because I saw something in you that seemed valuable to have," he replies. "Would you like to know of your past? I can show you."
"Sure."
"Drink this," he holds me a vial of clear liquid.
You take it, study it before gulping it down in one go.
At first nothing happens, but suddenly your eyes drift shut and images begin flying through your mind.
Images of your parents and them dying, you being taken in by a man. A man that had looked kind by the smile he wore and the warmth of his hands.  But that smile had been a mask for the monster he really was. And those hands ended up being the source of all your nightmares as he did things to you that you didn't dare think about. Finally, the vision ended with your hands covered in blood, as he lay in a pool of blood, lifeless. You dropped the knife and ran.
You had vowed to had never trust a man with a smile or warm hands again.
"She's a murderer!" An onlooker had shouted.
"a monster!" Another had yelled.
But you had ignored them, walking by all of them in silence.
Eventually night had come and the streets had died down, all the people had gone to their homes and you were left alone on the streets in the dark of night. After what you had done. Nobody would take you in. Nobody wanted a murderer.
You held the knife that you had killed your captor to your neck. All this pain would end if you ended it here. But wait. Why did you have to stop living? Why give up your life ? They're the ones who deserved to die. They all ruined your life.
The first house you had reached was a family you knew well. They were the ones responsible for your torment. It made you sick how they could live happily and comfortably after condemning you to a life of hell.
You didn't waste a second as you slit their throats in the dead of night. And the second time in your life, you felt powerful. For you finally had control of your own life.
You didn't stop at the one house. You went to 12 more. Murdering those who had mocked and tortured you.  The ones that had stood while your captor had abused and violated you and did nothing to stop him. They all just stood by and watched and then had the audacity to point fingers at you. To call you the monster.
At the 13th one, you found someone had already beaten you to it. You saw him devouring the arm of the man. Part of you was disgusted. But part of you was relieved. The being turned to you after finishing his meal.
"Thought I'd help you out," the man said. This was him. This was Muzan.
"Are you one of those demons? The ones I've heard about?"
"I'm not just any one of those demons. I am the Demon King and I've come to recruit you into my Army. Make you become one of us."
"And why would I trust you?" You ask.
"You don't have to trust me or anyone, just help me rid of the world of people like them," he nods to the ground, his eyes burn with hatred.
"What do I have to do?"
He holds out a hand, "come with me".
You study it warily, "just as long as you let me do whatever I want. I want full control of my life and who I'll get to kill and-"
"There's certain humans I'll task you to kill, but as long as you follow my orders and remain useful, freedom is yours."
You look into his eyes and see a shared look of hate and anger, that's all you needed before taking his hand."
You come back from the vision, who you are and what you how you had gotten here- was suddenly clear. You grab the vial of blood from his hands. He smirks in amusement as you drink it without hesitation.
"Good girl."
That phrase alone has you locking eyes with his and something in you awakens in those scarlet orbs.
"What else do I need to do to be one of you."
Something akin to relief flashes in those cold scarlet eyes, a smirk graces those devilish lips.
He turns a finger down your collarbone that's exposed from the flimsy gown you wore. A shiver ignites from his touch. For a demon's usually cold touch. His was scorching and setting you ablaze.
"First, pledge your life and your soul to me?" His hand comes back up to your face, brushing along your lower lip, causing you to suck in a breath.
"What do I need to do?" You swallow thickly. You said you'd never trust a man again. But this here was no man, he was a devil. A sensible person would run away. But you - you felt the desire to follow him anywhere. Perhaps it was the fact that he saved you. Or that he a really good manipulation tactics and that he just wanted to use you. But you found yourself wanting to be used.
"Let me show you," is all he says.
In a blur, your clothes are ripped off of your body. Leaving every bit of you exposed. Something in the devil's eyes made your nipples harden and yours thighs clenched. Maybe it was the fact that he was completely dressed and you were completely naked. Or he was the Demon King and you were completely and utterly defenseless about what he was about to do.
He leans over you and begins running a hand down your chest, brushing along your tits in a teasing manner down to the apex of your thighs. Every where his hand touched, a trail of electricity was left it in it's wake. Heightening all of your senses.
"Gotta make sure you're in pristine condition, and that you're exactly what I need," with his veiny large hands he forces your legs apart. His thumb grazing your clit, lightly. Which was already throbbing and aching with need. "That fucker that violated you, how did you kill him?"
You inhale a strained breath, before exhaling, the slightest of his touch was enough to have you needy for more. "I cut off his dick and shoved it up his ass, before slitting his throat."
His gaze never leaves your as his thumb begins to rub your sensitive bud with his thumb, "and did you enjoy it?"
You smirk, "I did."
He hummed, "good. I'm going to erase every memory of his touch from your skin and replace it with mine. From here on out, you will belong to me. Understood?"
You nod your head eagerly, "Yes, Master."
His teasing touch on your clit speeds up, "your pussy is already mine. Look at how quick it responds to me and I've barely done a thing to it."
"Please do whatever you'd like, Master. I want to exceed your expectations."
Without needing any further permission, he sinks in a finger, you let out a moan and he lets out a growl. You had never been touched like this. So the touch was foreign odd at first, but when he began to prod his finger between your tight walls, the more adjusted you became.
"Fuck, Dollface, you are tight as fuck," he closes his eyes as if to revel in the feeling of you around his finger, and when he opens eyes again, the red in his irises has been blown away by his black pupils, stealing your breath away. You cry out when he adds a second finger, scissoring open even wider. Not long after, he's got your pussy wrapped around his three fingers. They slam into with a wicked force. Your juices are soaking his fingers in seconds, but he doesn't stop his attack. His grin becomes feral. "You just came from that alone ? Fuck, you are a real gem."
You arch and quiver as he continues to jab his long fingers in and out of you. Any logical thoughts are forgotten as his mouth finally adds to the fray. Sucking your clit and biting it with his teeth, you shamelessly grind yourself on his tongue as he ravishes you thoroughly.
"F-f-fuck," you whimper, "Muzan, don't stop." Tears escaped your eyes, and you pressed grabbed his head and pushed in closer into you, wanting him as deep as he could go. You moaned at how soft and silky his hair felt in your hands. It was so soft compared to this beast of a man. You were so overcome with overwhelming pleasure, it was hard for you to think straight. The only thing that you know for sure, was that you wanted more.
"How could I when you taste so goddamn sweet, so much better than any of the humans I've devoured, baby, you are my own five course meal. So fucking delicious."
His words are so filthy, the way he continues you to wreck you with his mouth has your stomach turning in knots. And white hot pleasure takes over. You watch in amazement as your arousal sprays his face, yet he gleams in pure delight.
He detaches his mouth from your pussy and stands up, grabs you from your neck and pulls you in for a hot and hungry kiss. His lips are demanding and possessive of yours- there's no question for who's in control. He dominates you in seconds and you submit without hesitation. It was almost scary with how you vowed to never trust a man or let one ever control you again, yet you were throwing all that away for the Demon King himself. But you didn't care anymore. You wanted to submit to him in any and every way. Call you insane or call you weak, but you knew the minute you saw him that first night, you were already gone.
You yank him closer to you, tearing his shirt off, your newly awakened demon powers must include sharp claws, because you rake your nails down his back causing him to moan. And it makes you feral as he moans because of you. You grow more feral with that knowledge.
"You are perfect for me, Angel," he praises against your lips. His mouth leaves yours and begins leaving kisses along your neck, alternating between kisses and bites, which would leave a purplish hue when he was done. You grind yourself on him even harder. You reach down and rub his clothed cock.
"Please Muzan," you beg, "I need you."
He drops you onto the ground, "so needy for me, but I need to finish examining you first. And if you pass this test, I'll reward you. Now kneel like the perfect whore you are and open your mouth."
You instantly do what he says, you kneel on the hard floor and open your mouth. He finishes stripping out of his clothes. Your mouth waters in awe. For he was breathtaking. So beautifully chiseled in every way. There was no flaw. He was pure muscle and sinewy. His cock stood proud and tall against his abdomen. It was massive, girthy and long, with a slight curve. He was demon but he was built as a god. No- he was a god.
He closes the distance between you, stroking his cock in his hand. He rubs the crown along your lips, before pressing his head past your lips. His precum coating your tongue.
"Suck," he commands and you do, you suck on his tip slowly, unsure of what to do. You begin to swirl your tongue around his head and the underside. You tentatively lick a stripe down his shaft. Soon, he loses patience and thrusts the whole length into your mouth in one go. If you had still been a human, your mouth would have been torn to shreds but your demon mouth gave you better strength to handle the harsh action. Your throat was forced open wide as he slammed into your mouth. Spit and precum drooling out of your mouth. You try your best to hollow your cheeks you can take him in better. But he gives you barely anytime to adjust and uses your mouth as he pleases. He grabs your hair and pulls out of the way, making it easier for you to take him. He forces you down on his cock, causing you to choke slightly.
"What a perfect cocksleeve for my cock," he laughs darkly, "so fucking perfect," his laughs turns to grunts as his thrusts get more harsher. You sob around his cock in pleasure. His hips begins to stutter, his cock begins pulsing in your mouth. It becomes heavier and you feel something hot and salty shooting down your throat.
Before you can take a breath, he's picking you up and throwing you onto the table. Your back hits the table harshly and you yelp. He yanks you towards him, spreading your legs apart. He runs the length along my aching, in slow, tortuous strokes. Making you whine.
"You did so well, you've passed all of my expectations so far. Now I need to you beg for me."
"Please, Muzan."
He growls, "please what?"
"I- y-your-"
He slaps your clit and you scream, "use your fucking words!"
"Please, Master," you beg. "Fuck me. Please."
He chuckles, "now there's a good little slut."
Finally, he's aligning his tip with your entrance. He slowly pushes the tip in. You can't keep your eyes away from the sight of him entering you. You feel every vein and every crevice as he pushes past your slick walls. The stretch burned and you struggled to accommodate his size. You instinctively clamp around him.
"If you fucking do that, I'm going to cum before I can even start. So relax," he demands, softly rubbing your tummy with his hands.
You take a deep breath and feel yourself relax. Soon he's all the way in and you moan at how full you are of him, at how much he stretched you out by just settling inside you.
He pulls out before slamming right back in. He grips your hips tightly as he begins ramming into you at full speed. The sudden action, causing you grip onto his shoulders for purchase. Creaking sounds and slaps of skin, fill the room as you get fucked by the Demon King. Every inch of his cock plunging into you deeper and deeper with each thrust, and it's not long before he finds the spot that once he hits it you turn into mush. Completely in a state of bliss as he abuses the spot over and over.
"More more more," you chant.
"Look at you so compliant and submissive for my cock," his growls. His red eyes flashing bright with contempt. "I knew when I saw you, you'd be a perfect fit for me and my cock. That's the main reason I recruited you. Was to have your pussy as my personal fuck toy."
You're so out of it. Every thrust and every inch of his cock scraping your walls is paradise. You didn't want him to stop. Suddenly the table breaks, but he catches you at inhuman speed before you can fall. You wrap your legs around his middle, as thrusts up into you, this new position made it hard to tell where he ended and where you begin. His chest was against yours, he took your one of your tits in your mouth and began sucking on it, causing you to arch your back. You grip his hair and drag your nails down his back. He seemed to be able to reach new places from this angle and you could feel the wave building up inside you and you shuddered as you clamped down around his throbbing cock. The coil in your stomach as it snaps and you can feel yourself coming undone.
“Fuck,” you sob in pure bliss from your high.
“You make such a pretty mess around my cock,” he cooes, he grips his hands around your neck. Not relenting from his consistent assault. He squeezes and instantly cum again from just the way he seemed to cut off air making you senses even more overwhelmed. “Like the pretty little slut you are, designed to take my cock like champ. Like that’s your only purpose in life is to satisfy my needs.”
Not long after you feel him growing within you, his thrusts become a little more erratic, but they still powerful to make you shake. He lets out a roar as hot white ropes of cum shoot into you. Your cunt flutters around him, hungry for every drop.
“Yess, my perfect little cum dump,” he slowly pulls out groaning at the sight of the white liquid oozing out of you. He gathers it in his fingers and pushes it all back into you, a hoarse cry escaping your lips. Because you were so sensitive. “But I’m not done with you yet.“ He picks you up and carries you to another table. He manhandles you so you’re flipped onto your stomach and your legs are hanging over the edge. He grabs some restraints and takes your wrists and binds then behind your back. Something covers you eyes taking away your eyesight. He was rendering you completely useless for whatever he had planned next and you could do nothing but take it. All of your senses were being limited and heightened at the same.
You could feel his hands grabbing your waist, pulling your ass to rub against his cock which was still rock hard. Your pussy lips are being pulled and pinched by his fingers. you feel sharp sting on your sensitive clit causing you to jolt at the sudden force.
“Such a pretty little pussy,”is all he says before slapping it again, then without warning,his cock is spears into you again. He feels even bigger than before, as your pussy struggles to take him. You have nothing to grip onto just your front being pressed into the table and his hands on your hips to anchor you as he plows into full force once again. Suddenly you feel something on your leg, it feels wet and hard. It creeped along your thigh. Another thing like it wraps around your other leg, stretching you out even further. Something prods against your other entrance, your ring of muscle is being prodded by it. Something like a tongue flicks against it but that’s impossible because Muzan is still fûcking you with his cock. It pushes past your ring of muscle, a new burning stretch takes over and your tight hole is being stretched by whatever this thing was. It didn’t matter what was teasing to your little hole you were spasming around his cock. You shake and fall apart at the overstimulation.
And it seemed Muzan was getting off of it because he was laughing and praising you.“ now you really look like a fuck doll, a perfect little toy for me to fuck. You should see yourself,” Suddenly your blindfold is being ripped off, while still being pounding into. Your head is being forced by something wrapping around it. It’s the same wet thing that is wrapped around your leg and attacking and fucking your asshole at the same time. Everything was too much. You had no sense of time or anything. You couldn’t tell if what too were seeing was real. But tentacles seemed to wrap around your throat and leg. Another one is pounding into your hole, while being split by Muzan’s cock which looked bigger. His hair was now a snowy white and fell into waves to his shoulders. His chest was the same but ribbons of red laced around his arms, mouths with sharp teeth dotted his skin in strange places and tentacles sprouted from his back.
“This is my true demon form, are you scared little one?”
But before you can speak, tentacles are being shoved into your mouth. Rendering you speechless, as you gagged around them. Saliva drooled down from your mouth and your eyes watered everything was too much. You were in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your body was not yours anymore. It was his. His plaything, his experiment. You should have been begging for him to stop. Begging for him to let you breath and trying to escape this beast. But you could only feel yourself getting more nd more turned on.
“What was that?” He taunts, “I can’t hear you.”
You babble or try to around his appendage, it leaves your throat for a moment, “no,” your voice is barely a sound, “I am not scared of you, I want more,” you wheeze out.
His eyes widen in shock for a moment, before darkening and sick, twisted grin takes over his features, “you should be. You should be trembling under my feet. I don’t think you understand the power I have over your now. For this body no longer belongs to you. It belongs to me and I’ll use it whenever please. Every vein, every moan, every curve and hole of your body, is MINE. Your only use to me is that of a perfect little fuckdoll for me to bend and break however I please. To use whenever and however please. You only exist to only please me. Understand?”
“Yes!” You scream, you’re a sobbing, trembling mess. “Please use me whenever and however you want.”
Your mind is broken, your body is spasming out of control. You are completely lost but yet your are mended by this devil.
“I’m yours, Master.”
“That’s right whore,” he seethes, “YOU. ARE. FUCKING. MINE!”
You cry in pure ecstasy, everything after that becomes a blur. All that you can understand is that his cock and appendage are pounding into both of your holes. You’re being split apart. Every inch of you is on fire. His claws rip into your skin at your hips, blood sprays out. But you keep taking it. You reveled in the pain. It made you feel alive. And if you were human, you’d be long dead but as a demon you could take any of it and you loved it. You loved how brutal and twisted this was. His tentacles wrap around your throat once more. Fingers forcing their way down your throat. You gag and choke from being denied of air and all sanity. He pulls his fingers out and smears saliva on your face.
He roars in delight, “what a filthy little bitch. You’re still so willing to take everything I give you. I love it. You are so fucking perfect for me.”
Suddenly one of his mouths latch onto both nipples your clit at the same time as if every inch of your soul ls being sucked out of you. You lose all feeling in your body. It writhes and falls apart over and over. You lose count of on how many times you cum in those minutes or how many positions he changes to wreck you in. You just take it. Your mindset slipping further and further away from any sanity or clarity. You were only aware of him and inch of you he broke and mended over and over again.
Finally, what seems like eternity, he’s shooting into you again, until you’re completely filled and covered in his cum. “You look so perfect covered and filled with my cum.”
He pulls out. All appendages and mouths detach from you and you’re falling into a heap but he holds on you. Not caring if you’re completely drenched in cum. You’re completely fucked and incoherent but his soft kisses bring you back slowly.
“So did I pass your initiation and requirements?” You ask sleepily. He chuckles.
“You met every single one of them and more. You’re nothing but perfect for me and I want you more than just my recruit. I want you as a my queen and you are perfect for that role. It’s why I was watching you for all these years waiting for the perfect time to claim you.”
“How long have you been watching me?”
He grins, “that night, when you murdered that monster, the both of you were supposed to be my victims. But you surprised me with how brutal you were. How cold and relentless you became and from then on, I knew I needed to have you.”
You’re at a loss for words, his scarlet eyes bore into yours with something like adoration and love. But that’s impossible because he’s a demon you’re sure he can’t really feel any of that.
“Well thank you for saving me,” you say, reaching up to pull his face down to yours. You claim his lips in a needy kiss. He hums in content. “I would love to be your Queen. I am yours, forever.”
“Yes, mine.”
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katzenmas · 3 months
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just imagine cbf!Gaz seeing you again after ten years. Last time he saw you was when you guys finished your GCSEs. somehow you still looked the same even after all these years. the loud laugh that you barked out in the midle of the supermarket made him do a 160 degree turn.
he knew that godawful laugh, and it belonged to a snarky mean girl he knew as a kid. she was awful, always making fun of him in some way or another, showing up at his house like she owned it, eating his snacks and staying for dinner that his ma prepared. you were a nuisance at first. just some kid that moved in two houses down. then you became a thorn at his side when you caught him staring at your old my little pony dolls.
that very day, under the hot summer sun, napes sticky with sweat and lips tugged into smiles while you and Kyle played with your dolls, a beautiful friendship was born.
both of you started school, as fate would have it, you were conveniently placed as classmates. always going to and coming back from school together. never once did you grow apart. during those eleven years in school you and kyle both got new friends, different friendgroups but never lost sight of each other.
but then he joined the military. he finished his exams and got his acceptance letter into bootcamp the same day. his excited expression fell from his face when he saw how you clutched the letter he gave you a bit more tightly. your eyes looked up into his, with white molten rage simmering in your irises.
' I will be protecting you! protecting the whole country' he was screaming. nervous hands running to run his fingers through his hair, small puffs of air heaving out of kyle's chest.
' Yes by killing other people who are doing the same thing Kyle! don't you get it? you are just a body to them, you will be replaced by some other idiot kid who thinks he can be a hero' your yell tore through his room. you two have been at it for hours now. his whole room was a mess, things were thrown in the heat of the moment, some old football trophy lay broken next to a sweater of his that you threw at kyle's head.
'please, just stay' you were much quieter, your tone pleading, begging him to reconsider. ' just stay with me, be safe with me'
next morning he took his bags and left for bootcamp.
it's been ten years since that. turns out you still live in the small town you guys grew up in, or maybe you're visiting our parents? kyle's mind is running a hundred miles per hour, looking over at your form, trying to notice what had changed.
the first thing he noticed was your hair. it was no longer styled in the edgy way you liked to keep it during your rebellious teenage years. it was your natural hair color, a few strands framed your face and shook round as you laughed with your shopping partner.
the next thing he noticed were your hands. your fingers more specifically. kyle was looking each of your fingers, trying to notice even the smallest flash of metal. of a ring. he came up empty handed.
before he could choose another part of you to analyze, the loud sound of glass breaking got him to look up.
the jar of pickles you were holding slipped from your hands. your fingers were shaking, eyes trained on him, frozen in stupor. kyle saw the gears turn in your head, he could almost see the memories of your fight flashing by your eyes. your friend placed a hand on your shoulder but you ignored it, staring kyle down with a cold gaze.
a few beats of silence streched for far longer than kyle would have liked, so he broke it.
'hey there! its been years' he tried to sound casual about it but it came out a bit forced, his voice sounded like there was soemthing lodged in the back of his throat. he outstretched his arm and moved closer to you, but was left frozen mid action as you turned your back towards him and just picked another jar of pickled from the shelf in front of you.
you did not dignify him kyle with a response, hellbent on acting like he was not even standing there. you shook your head and turned to your friend, a smile graced your lips again as you pushed your trolley past Kyle, never looking at him again.
' did you know that guy?'
'i dont think so, can't remember him' kyle felt his heart shatter.
-----
idk where i was going with this. it was supposed to be a smutty one at first and then i was like hmmm... haven't written agnst yet. so yeah.
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prettyprettypaci2 · 5 months
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Therapy - Part 5
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💕 Part 1 💕 Part 2 💕 Part 3 💕 Part 4 💕
"I'm guessing you know what we're going to talk about today."
You're sitting on the familiar couch in Miss Heather's office, swaying nervously back and forth like a rocking horse at full gallop. Your breathing is rapid and irregular, escaping as squeaky little puffs from your frantically bobbing pacifier. You feel your twin French braids slap your bare shoulders with each heaving swing. You hug yourself with crossed arms, digging welts into your thighs with your glittery acrylic nails.
Everything had been going so well for you these last few months. Christmas had come and gone without too much distress; your gifts were all dumb things like patterned diapers and fluffy petticoats, but you had expected nothing less when you saw the sparkling pink wrapping paper. You had started going outside more, with Miss Heather taking you on a short trip or errand every therapy session. Other than a few snickering college girls or confused old ladies on park benches, your diapers and ridiculous outfits had rarely caused a stir, and you stopped whining so much about the excursions after returning to Miss Heather's office.
But now you've ruined everything.
You wait for Miss Heather to give you some words of comfort, to talk you down from your frenzy. But she simply observes you with an unreadable expression. Many minutes pass, and fatigue starts to set in. Your breathing remains heavy, but slows into a normal rhythm. Your violent rocking reduces to an unsteady shiver. You look into Miss Heather's eyes, silently pleading for her to make it better. To forgive you. She remains silent.
You think back to the very first time you met Miss Heather, when your step-sisters first started faking your accidents. She had been unlike anyone you had ever met -- clinical and challenging with her questions, but still deeply kind. You had assumed that as soon as you explained how your family was treating you, she would contact your step-mom and put a stop to the diapers that very day. Looking down now at the pony-patterned cloud of padding taped to your hips, you shake your head at how naïve you had been.
You uncross your arms and grab the end of one of your French braids. It's tied off with a bouncy pink-and-silver ribbon. You hate wearing ribbons, or anything else prissy, but the pink and silver parts have different textures you like to touch. The pink is soft and silky; the silver is coarse and lacy. You never used to care about little sensations like that, but in your constant isolation and boredom, you find yourself exploring them often. Miss Heather encourages it, telling you it's a way to discover the world all over again.
You've calmed down now, remaining tense but still. You close your eyes for a few seconds, then let them flutter open, tickling your brow with the comically long eyelashes Lauren had glued on. You realize your therapy isn't going to start until you speak. You let your pacifier fall out of your mouth and dangle from its purple clip.
"It was stupid. I was stupid."
Miss Heather remains unsmiling, but you swear her eyes soften. You love her for that.
"Why did you do it?"
You swallow hard, feeling a lump in your throat. "I didn't want to do this anymore. I wanted to go back to how things were...b-before the diapers." You catch yourself. "Before MY diapers."
Miss Heather crosses her legs. "And you thought you could do that by stealing?"
You quake a bit when you hear her say the word. It was just a pair of cotton underwear. On clearance. Your step-mom had wandered off to find some cartoon-themed snow boots in your size, and you saw them on the shelf. The shortalls you wore yesterday had little pockets at the waist you could hide them in.
"I said I was sorry," you whimper. This is true. When Olivia had found the underwear in your room, she held you down and twisted your arm until you confessed. Your step-mom had driven you back to the clothing store and forced you to apologize to the lady at the register. You're sure the old woman had never seen an adult sob so much.
Miss Heather leans towards you and rests her chin on an open palm. "When would you have worn the underwear? Would you have taken off your diapers and hoped your step-mom wouldn't notice? Would you have left home?"
"I don't knoooooooow," you moan pathetically, leaning away and flitting your pretty eyelashes towards the ceiling as you pull on your braids. "I just wanted to have them."
Miss Heather lets the thought hang in the air before she speaks. "It's normal to want things you can't have. But to feel so strongly about it that you're willing to steal is very concerning. Do you think what you did was wrong?"
You sniffle. "Yeah..."
"Do you? Or are you just saying that because you think it's the right answer?"
You meet Miss Heather's gaze, which still shows more severity than sympathy. You ponder the question for a moment. "It was wrong to steal," you begin slowly, then add quietly: "But some days...it's just so hard to wear my diapers."
Miss Heather pulls out her smartphone and gives it a few taps. The TV screen on the wall lights up with a cartoonish diagram of the human brain. Pulling out a laser pointer, she swivels it around the section labeled "frontal lobe."
"In psychology, there's a difference between moral judgment and moral reasoning," she says, taking on the tone of a schoolteacher. "You can decide that something is right or wrong, but make a different decision based on what your desires are. Usually these two things line up pretty well -- we try to do what we think is right. But when our choices don't match our values, we want to correct the imbalance. We do this by trying to associate the bad behavior with something unpleasant."
Your mouth hangs open stupidly as Miss Heather lectures. She notices your confusion.
"Like a punishment," she clarifies, taking the image off the TV and setting her smartphone down. "Did your step-mom punish you after you apologized?"
You shift uncomfortably on your padded butt. You had kicked and screamed and pleaded, but your step-mom gave you the worst spanking of your life. "Yeah."
"That's normal. But fixing those connections between beliefs and choices is much easier when you recognize they don't match, and you take steps to confront it yourself. This is how guilt helps us. I know you have an icky feeling in your tummy that you just want to go away."
You nod sullenly, shuffling your feet. You watch the butterfly decals on the toes of your shoes glitter in the light.
Miss Heather goes on. "There's an old expression, 'an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.' The best way to avoid that yucky feeling is to fix the imbalance before you engage in the behavior. If you had told your step-mom in the store that you wanted to steal that underwear, but didn't do it, how would things have worked out differently?"
You hold your breath for a moment, considering the question. "I wouldn't have done it, because she would have been watching me."
"Do you think she still would have punished you?"
The memory of your spanking makes you wince again. "Maybe..."
"And that would have been a good thing! The punishment reinforces that connection between actions and consequences. But instead of feeling yucky guilt, you feel pride that you made the right choice and asked your step-mom for help in a moment of weakness."
You slowly pump your toes up and down, making the butterfly decals dance and shimmer. "So I should get punished even when I do nothing wrong?"
"You should ask to be corrected when you know you need it," Miss Heather replies. "Look at me for a moment."
You tear your eyes away from the trance of your pretty shoes and meet your therapist's gaze.
"Let's say you were left at home for a week. Your step-mom and step-sisters go away on a little trip and you're all by yourself. Do you think you would still follow all of your rules? Would you still wear your diapers?"
You know there's only one way you can answer honestly. It's a fantasy you've described to Miss Heather too many times already. "No," you say, starting to tremble. "I wouldn't."
"Would that be wrong, to break rules when your family is away?"
A lump finds its way into your throat. "Y-yeah..."
"So what do we do now? You know what's right, but your brain wants to do wrong. If it ever happens -- and it may happen someday -- you know that guilty feeling will start eating you up. What should you do about it?"
You grip your braids again, feeling the coarse silver and silky pink of the ribbons more intensely than ever. "A-ask to be punished?"
"Good!" Miss Heather smiles for the first time this whole session, and your heart begins to melt. The tension evaporates, washing away like a sand castle in the tide of Miss Heather's forgiving praise. "Why don't you lie down on your tummy and explain to me why you need to be punished. You can hold Mr. Kazoo if you'd like."
You're terrified by what's about to happen, but you're past the point of being able to fight it. You stretch out on the couch, your fat diapered bottom wiggling in the air. You pull your giant stuffed teddy bear from his perch on the floor and wrap your arms around his neck. "Sometimes I think about not wearing my diapers," you begin cautiously.
You hear the hardwood floors creak as Miss Heather rises and approaches, outside your field of vision. "Do you think you deserve to be punished?"
The shivering returns and you clutch Mr. Kazoo closer. "Um...y-yes."
The floorboards fall silent. You can smell Miss Heather's perfume behind you.
"The rule is that you always wear your diapers now."
You can barely breathe. "I shouldn't break the rules."
You scrunch up your face in frightened anticipation. Miss Heather says something else but you don't hear it. All you can think of is Lauren sneering at you as she delivers one of her favorite taunts: "Good girl."
Good girl.
Good girl.
You're going to be a good girl.
💕 Part 6 💕
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shiftylinguini · 8 months
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Fuck I Can't Write Crisis Pack:
@phoebe-delia asked in response to this fun lil ask game:
Do you have any advice for getting out of a slump/getting writing confidence back? . (for the ask anything) Do you have any advice for getting out of a slump/getting writing confidence back?
Now THIS. This is a good question, and something that is very much on my mind and has been for a while, as I am currently absolutely in the midst of this and trying to army crawl my way out. I don't have any magic bullets (is that the saying? idk) but I have been here before and i do have a small arsenal of tips or methods that I find can help me. 
Here is my Fuck I Can't Write Crisis Pack (In no particular order):
Write anything 
This is hardly groundbreaking advice, and it's also the hardest thing to actually do (imo) so do not beat yourself up if it takes a while to get to this. Basically, write ANYTHING―it can be aimless, it can be pointless, it can be crap (crap is subjective!! don't let the brain gremlins win!!). 
Don't think about posting it, don't worry about anyone else ever reading it, just fling a few words onto a page and feel the rusty faucet turn on, proving to yourself that it still works. 
Try and sus out what it is that's blocking you 
Again this one is hard and annoying but functional. Once you can put your finger on the particular reason you're staring at a flashing black line on a blank page it can help you kick that reason off your lawn and into the bin. 
And then, take it out of the bin and be kind to yourself about whatever that reason is. Maybe you feel shit because you're comparing yourself to others, your last fic felt like a lead balloon, you can't muster enthusiasm for what you once loved doing and fear that it's gone forever, you're projecting in a Tumblr post―whatever it is, it's something all the writers you admire and aspire to be like have felt, and been annoyed with themselves for, and so you can wrap it up in a blanket and put it on a shelf and be kind to it so it, (respectfully) shuts the fuck up. 
(and remember, everyone feels insecure about their stuff. Like literally everyone, at some stage, feels like their stuff is rubbish)
Cheat on your OTP 
Okay this one might not work for everyone, but it really does for me lol. Ruts (not the sexy kind) can often come with not wanting to engage in my usual ships, being annoyed by my lack of ability to fucking write them/anything/all my ideas taste like cardboard/bleh, and stepping out on them and reading something new can snap me out of it. Just, an injection of new ideas or scenarios or words or even just a little reprieve from being fed up with myself, which ideally, is why we're all here anyway. 
(And then I come crawling back, and am welcomed with open arms haha)
In a similar vein:
Engage in media 
This subtitle is genuinely terrible, i am sorry, LMAO, but essentially: find a piece of media that makes you go "oh, helLO sailor", unhinge your jaw like a snake, and consume it whole. 
Let it nourish you, inspire you, excite you, making you feel SOMETHING, and then take that and think "fuck, what if i wrote bleepbloopblarp" and even if you write nary a single word, you've thought about it and that fucking counts. 
It might be an album, a book, a song, a show, gifs of a hot person, the wikipedia summary of a movie, literally anything counts here if it makes you feel a twinge of creativity. 
Ask yourself, what would Astolat do? 
No for real. @candybarrnerd and I genuinely use this haha.  
Worried your idea is stupid? Astolat would say write it. 
Worried it's too weird? Nah, just write it. 
It's dumb and no one will read it? Just write it for you *waggles eyebrows* (and then find out that yeah, nah, someone else will absolutely read this and be real fucking happy about it haha.)
Worried you're a one trick pony and have already written this fic before, like, and not even once before, and also you're projecting again in Tumblr post? WRITE IT AGAIN! As Astolat once said, "it's a fic so nice, I wrote it thrice". 
It's good advice. 
Make a friend or lean hard on the ones you have here
Misery loves company because it knows they'll come out of this together :). I know, I know, that's fucking NAFF, but fandom is all about finding like-minded freaks and blowing up their DMs because you saw a gif and now feel a kind of ways about it. 
And lastly: 
FUCK STATS! 
I mean I love stats (yay validation!), but god can they make you feel like a worthless shit (hey where did my validation go :((( ). It can be really insidious, so piss that right off when it starts to fuck with your confidence or outlook on your own writing.
Hopefully there is something useful here, even if it's just looking at this advice and thinking "no that's shit, it's writing POISON" cos then you can maybe do the version you think is NOT shit, and that might work. 
Good luck, fellow travelers!!
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v4mpgutz · 14 days
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⊹₊ ⋆ CUT & SEWN JUST FOR: @ladyinbl00d
₊˚꒰🎀꒱‧ BABYDOLL DRESSES : dallas winston, 'enchanted' by taylor swift, meeting for the first time.
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⊹˚. ౨ৎ 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃, 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧
❝ all i can say is i was enchanted to meet you. ❞
warnings — movie dallas (matt dillon), mention of armed robbery, smoking, fluff, love at first sight vibes, dallas being dallas
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dallas winston had never set foot inside a bookstore — that is unless you count the one time in new york before he was arrested. at that time though, he was brought along by these guys he would hang around in the subway. he watched as they pulled a gun on the old lady running the shop, the woman cowering as she handed them the money.
dallas thought about that often, he wasn't sure why they decided it had to be a bookstore of all places — did they even make money worth taking?
he hadn't exactly planned to go into that kind of store ever again, he wasn't the kind of guy that enjoyed literature of any kind and he couldn't be caught in a place like that; it would ruin his reputation. on one particular day though, he found himself being dragged to 'the book garden' — ponyboy's favourite store.
unfortunately for dallas, today he was tasked with accompanying johnny and pony as everyone else was busy. it's not that he didn't like them, because he did, he'd just rather spend his saturday doing anything else.
the three of them walked into the store where you just so happened to be working today. you glanced up at the ring of the bell when the door opened, seeing the trio of greasers. you gave a small smile to ponyboy, recognising him as he was a frequent customer. johnny you knew from school when he came and dallas — well, everyone knew dallas — but you didn't know him.
you kept yourself busy where you were, stocking the shelf with new additions. there were lots of interesting copies in there of old fairytales, you picked up a stack of seven rather thick books and walked slowly towards the fantasy section.
you could barely see over the stack but you knew your way around the store well so you felt confident enough to walk through blind. you did feel confident walking through blind, at least, that was until somebody bumped into you and made you and your stack of books fall to the floor.
you frowned, wincing as your knees came into contact with the hard wood.
you started gathering your books hurriedly, hearing a huff from above you. "you should watch where you're goin', huh? people are tryin' to walk here."
you swallowed hard and got up, balancing the pile of books in your arms once again and coming face-to-face with dallas winston.
"i'm— i'm sorry..." you sputtered out in apology, feeling embarrassment creep its way into your gut. you really should've known something like this had to happen at some point — you just didn't expect it to be dallas in particular.
the roughed up teen chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes noticeably looking you up and down as if examing you before he looked away for a moment. he licked his teeth in a smile as he turned back to you.
"so— so what are you? uh, a— a librarian?" he asked with a little chuckle. "kinda cute."
you blinked slowly, his words catching up with you. "no... librarians work in libraries," you told him as you chewed your lip, "hence the name."
dallas tilted his head to the side and back into place in a shrug, letting out a low hum in acknowledgement. he wasn't the brightest, okay? how was he supposed to know that?
"you work here then?" he asked, despite it being obvious due to your attire and the fact you were cleary putting new stock away.
"mhm, yeah," you told him as you slid the books you were holding into their correct places on the shelf. "been working here for two years or so."
dallas nodded and sucked his cheeks in, rolling his eyes as ponyboy called him over to the exit.
"well," dallas leant down slightly as he got closer to your face, "i s'pose you might be seein' be around here more often," he claimed with a wonky grin.
"what?" you questioned with a furrowed brow, "you like reading?"
"no," dallas shook his head, "i seem to be growing quite fond of you though, darlin'."
you were flattered despite the fact that this was your first proper meeting — you understand why so many girls from your school would talk about him now. you were definitely falling for his charm, that's for sure.
"o— okay... bye," you told him quickly before hurrying back over to the staff room and closing the door. you leant against the wall and cupped your face in your hands, letting out a little screech of embarrassment and gently smacking yourself.
dallas winston had never set foot in a bookstore — and now he would make sure he did at least weekly.
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RIVER'S BLURB: DAVI listen. i know this is kinda short i am sorry 😓 but i hope you like it and sorry it literally took me a gazillion years ok byebye
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Common Knowledge 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You unfurl the strip of legal pad, marked with Professor Halfdansson's messy and pointed writing. The usual scribble that has you squinting at your returned papers. He must be the only instructor in the college that still handmarks his assignment.
Like much of his style, his slanted cursive is chaotic. Often, his lectures or spiraling tangents about his trips to Norway or some mythos unrelated to the topic at hand. He is a well of knowledge, but one which is often overflowing and bottomless.
The subject is far from your first choice. You prefer history with a human subject. Your intrigue is those events which truly occurred, people who once walked the same earth as yourself. Mythos and belief is a human creation but it hardly captures your imagination.
Along your search for title jotted onto the scrap, you find several other books to sate your personal preferences. A book on the Beothuk and their demise and another illustrated index of Renaissance art. Finally, you find the rear corner of the store, the mythology shelves nestled behind Spirituality and New Age.
You hover your finger before the rows and lean in, squinting through your lenses as you search out the rather Nordic-sounding name. You sense a shadow at the end of the aisle but do not look over. You'll just be on your way once you-- there it is.
You pinch the spine of the deep blue tome and slide it out. The cover is stamped with gold runes and lettering, a viking helm the central image. You double-check that it matches the professor's scrawl, however you can never be sure as his Fs look like Ss.
You set it flat on your armful of book, balancing the weight with the rest as you crumple the scrap and tuck it into your pocket. It's a bit more than you want to spend but it will be useful in maintaining your average through Halfdansson's course.
The shadow comes closer and you shift out of the way for the approaching customer. You sidle away as they huff, a breath that fans around them. He leans into the shelf and you sense his head shift and his gaze follow your slow retreat.
"Ah, you are a fan of vikings?" He asks, stopping you in your tracks. "You must've watched the show, hm? Cute series but not very accurate, you know?"
You blink, taken aback but his tone and his assumption. It isn't the first time you've met the attitude in your chosen discipline. When it comes to military history or the lives of vaunted men, there is often an intonation towards female scholars. You have been dismissed more than once.
"Never seen it," you lie, "you seem the type though."
You note his snow white hair, a peculiar shade, drawn back into a half pony, and his blindingly pale eyes. He wears a tunic better housed in the closet of a LARPing club and looms with an air of indignation. He puts a thick hand on the shelf and leans, no doubt used to towering over others.
"Funny, that is the very book I came for," he intones.
"Oh, what a coincidence."
HIs jaw ticks and he snorts, "seems you've found quite the lot--"
"I have. A whole trove."
You go to turn away and hear his sole clomp down behind you, "surely you can grab another encyclopedia. I really need that one."
"Uh, no, this is what I need."
He follows you down the aisle as you keep a quick step, uneasy at how he trails you so fervently.
"Maybe you should grab another one."
"I have all the others. I've been waiting months for that to come into stock," he insists.
"Well, you can find a kiosk and order one in--"
"On a three month backorder," he interjects and grabs your arm. "I'll pay you--"
You spin back to face him and hit his chest with your books, "don't touch me."
"Well, just..." he retracts his hand, "hold up. I'm trying to talk to you. To barter--"
"I'm sorry, but I need this book for class," you hug the books and back up, overly aware of the tingliness from where he grabbed you. You don't like being touched. At all. You can feel your heart pumping.
"Does the school not have a library, little girl?"
Your mouth falls open. Little girl? This guy just can't help himself. You haven't been rude, maybe matter-of-fact, but he's been downright mean.
"Not for sale," you push your shoulders up and back away.
You twist on your heel and speed away. You weave between the shelves and discount tables and join the winding queue at the counter. You don't look back and sway in your boots, waiting your turn.
"I could give you several recommendations for an alternate text," the man appears at your side, crowding you inside the black cords that rein in the queuing customers.
You ignore him and turn your head away. You wish he'd just take a hint. If you heard a single please or any sort of respect, you might consider it. He's only been a jackass and judging at first glance, he's too old for that.
"You don't need it–"
You move with the line and he growls, shifting with you.
"Look, girl–"
You snap your head back and give him a glare. He sucks in one cheek and exhales heavily, "miss, I am asking you nicely–"
The associate at the counter calls for next and you take your cue. You quickly cross the space and put your haul onto the wooden ledge. You hear the pushy stranger snarl something under his breath. You refuse to look back as you hand over your membership card.
Men like that are the very reason you despise the general public. Hard to fathom how you can be so intrigued by the human condition when you can hardly bear to be around other people.
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The outdated style I dislike most is the decade of the 70s. This home is an example of why. (I bought an 80s house and it was so dated that I couldn't afford to redo it, and that's the problem you have to consider when buying, even if the price is lower.) This one, in Ottawa, Illinois, was built in 1970 & has 4bds, 3ba, $325K.
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Okay, this is just silly. Cut the hedges back, the lions look like they're in giant green butt cracks. Let's go inside- I hope you enjoy this 70s throwback.
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The oval leaded glass door with 2 side lights were the gold standard, as well as the pony wall planter, spindles and red carpet.
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The 70s introduced large stone fireplace walls. In contrast, there was fussy, fancy, metal (or plastic) grill work, as seen in the doorway.
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The 70s changed the color of wood- it became extremely dark, through the magic of Jacobean stain. The style included faux brick (which was not yet perfected and looked so faux), carpeted kitchens and ornate cabinetry with plate rails.
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But the most distinctive feature was the kitchen lamp post. Even if I gutted this kitchen, I would keep that lamp post, b/c it's such a classic. I've even seen them built into the middle of kitchen tables. (Note the faux brick backsplash.)
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Variations of this beloved bedroom set were in so many homes. Even my grandparents had one (and I inherited it). Plus portraits of the children on black velvet.
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Wallpaper, fancy and flocked, even if it didn't match the style of the room.
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There was a Toile Revival, too.
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And, big, dark heavy furniture with fancy foo-foo ruffled fabric or fabric with eyelet borders. Notice the architectural detail of the bed on a platform with a heating vent for practicality.
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This fireplace was redone- they removed the mantle, in favor of a shelf, and framed in the hearth so they could display statuary.
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It was also the advent of the wall-to-wall carpeted bathroom and tub draperies.
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Note that red shag carpeting fades over time, and also pills, balls up, and irretrievably matts down. Check out what looks like a lighted nativity scene in the fireplace.
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Ah, the manufactured "colonial" creations. Hanging metal fireplaces adorned with eagles and sofas with spindles, pleated skirts, and pastoral or historic Americana scenes. Wherever there was an opening, put up a fancy railing and/or panel.
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What a bonus! A home beauty salon! Also, note the textured paneling and another popular feature- jigsaw cutout wood valances on everything from the kitchen cabinets to windows, to walls. (Also, there's a good example of how red carpet fades, in the corner.)
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Some outer details (note the cutout valance even on the roof of the house).
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I didn't expect a farm, but there're definitely barns and a silo on the property.
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3.67 acres of land.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2855-E-13th-Rd-Ottawa-IL-61350/115664434_zpid/
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moodymelanist · 4 months
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🎄 All I Want For Christmas Is Snow 🎄
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Surprise, @emeriethevalkyriegirl! I’m your Secret Santa! had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy ❤️ thanks for putting together an amazing event as usual @acotargiftexchange and happy holidays to all who celebrate !!
Summary: Nesta and Cassian’s daughter has never seen snow, so they conspire to give their baby girl her first white Christmas.
Word Count: 4,875
❅❅❅❅❅ Cassian
“Daddy?”
Cassian turned from where he was picking out a book for bedtime to look at his daughter. Seraphina – Sera for short, as she’d been insisting for a while now – looked absolutely adorable in a pair of purple pajamas. She’d just turned five not too long ago and he was so, so thankful she still enjoyed getting a bedtime story and a kiss on the forehead.
“Yes, mijita?” Cassian answered, grabbing one of the My Little Pony books off Sera’s shelf before coming to settle next to her on her tiny bed. “What’s going on in that cute little head?”
“Is snow real?” she asked abruptly. Her hazel eyes had taken on that determined look that meant she wasn’t going to bed anytime soon until she got her question answered.
“Of course it is,” he answered. It struck him sometimes how little she knew about the world, and just how much he and Nesta had left to show her before she grew up. “It just hasn’t snowed here in a long, long time. Not since before you were born.”
“Why not?” she followed up immediately. “I wanna see some.”
“One day, baby,” Cassian promised vaguely. He couldn’t predict the weather any more than the average guy, but he didn’t want to completely dash all her hopes. “The weather hasn’t been good for it yet.”
“When’s it gonna get good, Daddy?” Sera asked with a sigh she’d definitely gotten from her mother. He’d never get tired of seeing a quintessential Nesta expression on their daughter’s face, so he just reached out and smoothed some of her dark hair back to do something with the warmth of affection that spread through him.
“I don’t know,” he told her honestly. They hadn’t gotten good snow in DC for years – certainly not enough for Sera to enjoy it like a child deserved, anyway – and although the weather prediction said they were in for some real snow this year, who knew if that would actually be true. “But the weather people say maybe we’ll get some snow this year. Isn’t that exciting?”
“If you say so, Daddy,” she replied, clearly not believing him but deciding to go along with it anyway. “Can you read my story now?”
Keep reading on AO3 here!
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen
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ctitan98official · 3 months
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Alcina being curious about Y/N’s comic books and collectible figurines
Alcina: *Quietly reading in her bedroom*
Y/N: *Runs in excited* Alci! Look what I got from Duke! It’s a Batman comic that came out in the 90’s! It’s not canonical, but it’s really hard to get. *Holds it up for Alcina to get a better look*
Alcina: *Confused, but if Y/N is happy that’s all that matters* Why do you keep all of these comic books and toys in packaging? Wouldn’t you like to read them or play with them? *Reaches out to pick up the comic Y/N is holding*
Y/N: *Yanks their hand away before Alcina can touch the comic, fucking snarls at her* No! Nobody can touch them but me! I keep them in the packaging so they retain their value!
Alcina: *Not sure whether to be pissed or turned on by Y/N’s aggressive outburst, raises an eyebrow, sniffs dismissively* Well, have it your way, draga. I doubt anybody but you cares about things like this in the castle, so your collection will be safe here.
Y/N: *Sighs in relief* Thanks Babe! You’re the best! *Puts the comic book in a box on a shelf with their other collectibles*
Alcina: *Smiles and pats Y/N’s head* Why don’t you go see what the girls are up to, draga?
Y/N: Good idea! *Runs out to go cause chaos*
Alcina: *Chuckles and returns to her reading*
Also Alcina: *Glancing curiously at the shelf of toys and comics, can’t focus on reading anymore* Well, if I’m really careful and put them back how I found them Y/N will never know…
Alcina: *Puts her book down, closes the bedroom door, hurries over to the shelf*
1 hour later
Alcina: *Lying on her bed and kicking her legs in the air, comic books strewn everywhere, playing with a My Little Pony Funko Pop* Come on, girls! We have to go save Princess Celestia!
Y/N: *Walks in* Hey Babe! I- *Shrieks* WhAt Are YoU DOinG!
Alcina: *Whips her head around to see an outraged Y/N* Draga! It’s not what it looks like!
Y/N: *Eyes blazing with anger and betrayal* How could you do this to me!
Alcina: *Trying to explain herself* I was going to put them back! They just looked so colorful and fun! I don’t know what came over me! Please forgive me, Y/N!
Y/N: *Crosses their arms, thinking* Well… I guess the only way to make it up to me would be…
A couple days later
Mother Miranda and the 3 other lords: *At the meeting site*
Mother Miranda: *Huffs in annoyance* Where is Alcina!
Y/N: *Busts in through the door, dressed like Batman, running around pretending to beat up bad guys* I am the darkness! I am the night! I’m Batman!
Everyone: *Confused*
Moreau: Uhh… what’s happening?
Y/N: *Looks behind them, whispering loudly* C'mon, Alci!
Alcina: *Groans loudly, walks through the door wearing a fucking Robin costume*
Heisenberg: *Busts out laughing*
Alcina: *Crosses her arms and growls*
Y/N: Say the line, Alci!
Alcina: *Sighs* And I am Robin… boy wonder…
Y/N: *Eyes sparkling, slips back into character* Robin! Do you see that? *Points at Heisenberg* It’s Mr. Freeze!
Alcina: *Groans and rolls her eyes* Gee whiz, Batman… it’s a double feature. Look over there. *Points at Mother Miranda* It’s The Penguin…
Moreau and Angie: *Laughing their asses off*
Y/N: *Eyes sparkling, jumping up and down with joy* Okay, Alci! Apology accepted! *Runs up and hugs her leg*
Alcina: *Sighs with relief* Thank God…
Mother Miranda: ??? Did you just call me a penguin, Alcina?
Masterlist
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jjtheresidentbaby · 11 months
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!!!! Hi! Would you be able to write something with Eddie Munson or Aaron Hotchner as caregivers? They're both heavy comfort characters for me, and I honestly love how you write Aaron!!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pick a toy ໒꒱ ⋆゚⊹
|| eddie munson x reader
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-
“You have to stay close baby, don’t want you gettin’ lost on me.” Eddie grins down to you, coming to take your hand and lead you away from the shelf of toys you’ve become entranced in. The stores fully stocked today, Joyce having just told you both that all the supplies in the back has been unloaded so nothing should be unavailable.
“What’re we gettin?” You ask and shuffle a little faster to keep up with Eddie’s quick steps.
“A few things. Some hand cream, a few bottles of orange juice, bread, extra hair ties, and maybe, if you’re good you can pick out a toy.” A beaming smile makes its way across your face hearing how your caregiver sing songs the words.
“I’ll be good! Promise Ed’s!” He reaches to ruffle your hair with his free hand before he starts to pluck a couple bottles of orange juice out of the stores freezer wall. You both go through it within no time flat so you guess it makes sense he’s grabbing so many, though you wonder if Wayne will appreciate the surplus of it suddenly appearing in the fridge.
-
The rest of the shopping goes smoothly, sans Eddie knocking over a display of paper towels that Joyce shakes her head at. But the list gets crossed off with each movement through the small store, Eddie fills the basket he carries and is soon leading you both back to the toy aisle. You’re practically vibrating with excitement when Eddie nods to the shelves and tells you to choose something.
There’s so many things, small plastic dragons, stuffed bears, my little ponies, a couple strawberry shortcake coloring books, and a bunch of other things that you take time to meticulously considered. After some minutes and an ask for Eddie’s and Joyce’s opinion, you make a choice and happily skip over to the counter so Joyce can ring you both up.
“You were very good baby, thank you.” You smile brightly to Eddie, bouncing on your feet as he carrie’s the bags of groceries out to the van and allows you to jump a few steps ahead.
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ckret2 · 1 year
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👀 I want to hear more about this Bill AU
You were the very first person to send me an ask about the Bill AU, and it was an open-ended question, so I've been saving your ask special for... a fanfic. IDK how often or how much I'm gonna write actual full fic for this AU but for now, here: the first half of Bill's reunion with the Pines family. (Attempted murder included.)
####
February 25, 2013
The vengeful demon standing in the door of the Mystery Shack possessed only four items in the universe:
Two safety pins.
A time tape tied around his waist like a belt.
And a tunic he'd fashioned himself in the style of an ancient Greek Ionic chiton, folded and pinned so perfectly that the wearer must have seen them thousands of years ago when they were at the height of fashion.
Soos couldn't identify an authentic Ionic chiton. All he could tell was that the lady at the door was wearing a toga made out of a bright purple Pony Heist children's bedsheet.
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Soos laughed, flashing the tourist a double thumbs up. "Hey! Awesome toga. That should really be like a thing. Imagine if we all wore togas. We could just wake up, roll our bedsheets around us like a burrito, and go out!"
Distractedly, the tourist answered, "Careful, you can't tell when Big Fashion is listening in." 
"Haha. Who?"
The tourist didn't reply, and she hadn't looked at Soos once; instead, her gaze was darting around the shop searchingly.
"Are you shopping for something specific?" Soos asked with his best customer service voice. "Post cards? Snow globes? Weird taxidermy thingamajigs? Pants?"
"Where are the Pines?" the tourist asked, casting a sharp look at the "employees only" door, then the vending machine.
"Oh, Mr. Pines! The original Mr. Mystery! Heh—he actually retired a few months ago. The Mystery Shack's under new management!" Soos planted his fists on his hips and puffed up his chest. "It's me, I'm the new management."
"But where are they?" the tourist pressed.
"Uhh, he and his bro are somewhere in South America, I think? Some place called... Redacted. But hey, if you really wanna meet him in person, in his last letter he said they might visit for like spring break if the kids can make it up. First week in April!"
"First week in April," the tourist muttered, glancing away from Soos, thoughtfully fiddling with the time tape wrapped around her waist.
"Oh, dude! I've tried to use a tape measure as a belt too! Haha! It worked great, until I bumped the button and it retracted. Yeesh. Hey, do you want a fur belt? We sell fur belts now." Soos turned away, rummaging through the new display next to the t-shirts. "They're all ethically sourced from recycled materials! I bought a bunch of old rugs from the Northwest Mansion to slice up."
Soos grabbed up a fuzzy pink belt. "Check it, I think this is unicorn hide or something. Bet it'd go so good with that Pony Heist toga..."
The tourist had vanished in thin air.
Soos looked around. "Huh." He stuck the belt on a shelf beneath the cash register, in case she decided she wanted it later.
Once all the other visitors had left for the day, and Soos was left alone to clean up, he glanced around the shop nervously. "Is anyone there?" He lifted his broom like a samurai sword. "Hello? Big Fashion?"
Nothing answered. He shrugged and kept sweeping.
###
April 1, 2013
A vengeful demon who possessed nothing but two safety pins, a time tape belt, and a purple Pony Heist bedsheet tunic stood in the center of the Mystery Shack gift shop.
Which was weird, because Soos hadn't heard the door and she totally hadn't been there a moment ago.
"Oh hey! Toga Lady!" Soos turned to Wendy, who was picking up a few bucks as a temp worker handing the spring break tourists. "It's Toga Lady. She came in like a month ago. The toga's cool, right? I think it's cool."
Wendy glanced up, choked back a laugh, and scrambled to grab her phone for a picture.
"So, where are the Pines?" Toga Lady asked, with an edge of impatience.
"Oh, dude, did you come all they way back here to meet them? I'm sorry, the Mr. Pineses didn't make it. They couldn't get a flight out of Atlanta." Soos stopped, frowned, and pulled a water-stained letter from his pocket to double check. "Sorry, Atlantis. Something about a siege of sirens?"
"They would pick now to invade," Toga Lady muttered. "I suppose the children aren't here."
How did she know about the children? Maybe she'd visited last summer and remembered them? Like, early summer, before Pony Heist came out. Soos would have remembered the toga. "Naw, heh. They went to Roswell."
"Oh, cool," Wendy said distractedly, busy texting Toga Lady to everyone she knew. "Checking out the competition."
"Yeah, Dipper's sending me like a billion pictures of the alien museum."
"Well," Toga Lady snapped, "when are they showing up?"
Soos was beginning to get the impression that Toga Lady was less an admiring fan, and more one of those customers. All the same, he said, "June first, for sure. That's when the kids get here for summer break so the Mr. Pineses are coming too. Definitely. Promise."
She rolled her eyes—one of them twitched, like she'd gotten something in it and was struggling to keep it open—but said, "All right, fine! June. What's the difference?" She trudged to the door and leaned next to it by the snow globe shelves, fiddling with her belt, as if she was settling in to wait right there for the next two months.
Soos frowned—she might drive off tourists, blocking the door like that—but said, "Oh! While you're here, I thought you might be interested in this belt." He reached past Wendy to grab it from beneath the cash register. "I didn't get a chance to show you last time before—"
He looked toward the door. She was gone. "Huh. Did you see Toga Lady leave?"
Wendy shrugged. "Wasn't looking."
"Huh." Soos replaced the belt. At least he knew when he'd see her next.
###
June 1, 2013
"What's with the belt?" Stan asked.
"Oh! It's for a regular." Soos pointed with both hands down at the fuzzy pink belt peeking beneath his suit jacket. "I think she's comin' today. She wanted to meet the original Mr. Mystery."
"Hey, an admirer!" Stan mysteriously grew two inches as his posture spontaneously improved. "Is she cute?"
"Uh... if you like bedsheet togas?"
"Ooh, a party girl."
Over by the shop's glass display case, Ford said, "These are new," and lifted a jar with an alien fetus suspended in green goo.
"Oh, yeah!" Soos said. "Dipper sent me like, a billion keychains of these little alien guys from Roswell. So I started filling Abuelita's empty spice jars with aliens and lime jello. Cool, huh? It looks like we stole them from a secret government lab or something."
Stan laughed, slinging an arm around Soos. "Listen to this! Brilliant! I knew I put the right guy in charge."
Soos grinned goofily. "Aw, gee, Mr. Pines..." A flash of purple caught the corner of his eye. Toga Lady was leaning next to the door by the snow globe shelves, fiddling with her belt.
Here was a chance to show off his great business instincts with Stan watching. Time to make a sale. "Oh, hey, Toga Lady! I didn't hear you come in! Still rockin' Pony Heist, huh? Hey, I've been trying to show you this belt I think you'll like..."
But she wasn't listening to him. Her gaze was fixed on the Pines twins' backs. As Soos watched, her expression darkened, and her grin widened.
The vengeful demon reached past the snow globes, snatched up a heavy "mysterious green crystal cluster ($250)" made of glued-together broken glass, and heaved it up over his head. "Hey, Sixer!" Face contorted in a snarl of a smile, he turned the cluster over, sharp broken shards pointing downward. "Welcome home!"
Bill Cipher swung the glass weight down toward Ford's head.
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(If you wanna keep reading, all chapters are right here!)
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