#i cant get over their height difference | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fenhonig · 5 months

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hey so im salty.

i saw something on reddit today that reminded me of why i feel such anger towards beauty standards. it was a video of a little girl, she couldnt have been over 5 or 6 years old, and she had a birthmark on her face. the skin right above her nose on her forehead was darker and wrinkled. nothing wrong so far, right?

here's the funny part. in the video, it shows this child before and after getting the birthmark surgically removed, which sounds fine on the surface right? even positive?

i cannot tell you how fucking angry it makes me. this kid, this CHILD, had her parents decide that her birthmark was something WRONG with her. they decided FOR HER to have it removed. it boils my fucking blood that her PARENTS, people who are supposed to LOVE HER UNCONDITIONALLY, saw this unique part of their child and decided that it was something that had to be removed. this kid is going to grow up knowing that this mark was something that was seen as a flaw. and that fucking hurts me.

it doesnt even seem like a big deal at first until you realize that this logic doesnt JUST apply to people with noticable birthmarks. you wanna know who also regularly get their bodies surgically altered at extremely young ages for aesthetic reasons even though there's nothing that would pose a threat to their health? intersex babies. not enough for you? how about babies born with certain deformities that, on their own, pose no threat to their health? do you think its ok to just decide that these children arent aesthetically appealing enough? to just decide for them to make a life-changing surgery happen?

and dont even come to me with the "well some conditions require surgical intervention" because thats not what im fucking talking about. im talking about people who are perfectly healthy, theres nothing about their unique condition that poses a threat to their health, but because that condition is seen as "weird" or "gross", they have their bodies permanently altered without any fucking say in it.

why do we teach these kids that there was something "wrong" that had to be "corrected" for them? why do we refuse to teach other kids that these differences arent a bad thing? why do CHILDREN, LITERAL FUCKING CHILDREN, have to be aesthetically pleasing for their parents to love them? you cant "love your child unconditionally" and then decide that one of their traits is just so unappealing that you decide to remove it for them. you dont love them unconditionally. you love them when they look normal to you.

i dont even care if it looks like im overreacting because this shit can, will, and already has hurt people. imagine growing up and knowing that your parents got rid of a trait that only you had JUST to make you look more pretty. more presentable. it didnt matter to your parents how you would feel afterwards when you could comprehend what had happened, all that mattered to them is that you looked appealing. that you looked correct. that you looked normal.

imagine being at that age and then realizing years later that you didnt look pretty enough for your parents to fully accept you. thats disgusting, absolutely fucking disgusting. children shouldnt be taught that certain traits make you have something wrong with you. instead of teaching kids to accept people and themselves as they are, parents teach their kids that they and other kids have to look normal to be accepted. they dont say it, but thats exactly what they teach.

people shouldnt have to fit into a certain box just to be seen as worthwhile. i dont even think that teaching kids that people outside the box matter too is good enough. we should teach kids that there shouldnt be a box in the first place.

you shouldnt have to look any sort of way to receive acceptance and love. you shouldnt have to BE any sort of way to receive acceptance and love. you're worthwhile. the way you were born shouldnt determine your worth, your actions should. some people arent worth the time, i will admit, but the people who are written off just for being born different deserve so much more.

if you're someone who is hated, seen as gross, seen as disgusting or seen as weird for something out of your control, remember that it isnt you who should take the blame. your own behavior, actions, views, they are what matters. anyone who targets you for something you couldnt control? fuck em.

that is my ramble, im extremely tired, please love yourself. and if you cant then love the people like you, maybe that will help.

#rambling #this is all rambling #not all of it makes sense #but i just. i feel so hurt when i think about the people treated poorly just for being born different #i know its typical and something almost everyone on this website could understand #but it always comes back #i think about it constantly #everytime i think im over it i come right back and feel so angry for those treated unfairly for something they cant control #you could literally be the worst person in the world and if someone made fun of your height i would be angry #you could be advocating for horrible shit but if someone uses a trait you cant control as a talking point against you i get so angry #it could be something like “haha that fat person is a bad person” and immediately i would feel rage #it could be “that person who commit a crime has darker skin” and just. rage #using something that someone didnt choose as an insult is so fucking immature #and it doesnt even make fun of them in a good way #make fun of them for the negative trait that they are willingly choosing to have #not for something that is so absolutely inconsequential to what they're actually doing/saying/believing #im tired. i really am.#its not like me saying “lets all get along” is gonna do anything #but god i wish it did #to those with traits people view as undesirable i love you #platonically #i love you so much for just putting up with that shit #because you genuinely dont deserve it #thats about it #if you're reading this please take care of yourself #and thanks for reading my stupid bullshit

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victorianchildwithinternet · 3 months

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i cant stop thinking about Grover and the way satyrs age differently and how he will slowly fall behind. About him seeing Annabeth and Percy grow, mature, come into adulthood and eventually die while he could never catch up to them.

Its not only that, but also the fact that they already know this. In the last olympian Percy remarks how alarmed he is at the fact that he is gaining a significant height over Grover. He knows this is only the begging. He knows that at some point he will be an adult, possibly with children, and Grover will still be a teenager.

And imagine Grover at Yancy academy, slowly becoming ACTUAL FRIENDS with Percy instead of being some homework to do to get his license as searcher. Because this kid is his age, they share interests. And maybe he didn't think about it back then, with the naive look of a 12 yr old that cant see what will come. But what if the other satyrs warned him of the dangers of it. What if, even though he tried to dismiss them, it slowly grew on him and became one of his biggest insecurities. What if he started to put Percabeth at arms lengths, trying to make the inevitable more manageable since at least it was his choice.

And while Percy would try to guess what he messed up with, Annabeth would. She would recognize what was scaring him and reasure him that it wouldnt happen.

And maybe they stayed friends through out most of their lives, but the gap would become increasingly bigger and bigger and even if they managed to stay friends for Annabeth and Percy's entire life times, he would still have to see his friends slowly get away as they died. And he still has like 200 more years to go. But even then he isnt mortal. He doesnt have a soul. He wont have some heartfelt reunion with them in the underworld. His time spent with them will actually be less than half the life he will live. And still he will miss them through out it all.

brb gonna go cry about Grover Underwood for a while.

#grover underwood #percy jackson #percy jackson spoilers #pjo spoilers #annabeth chase #grover and percy #pjo #This also makes me think about Grover's thoughts when Percy turned down immortality. At this point the fact that they will fall apart from #age is becoming more clear. Could there be some part of Grover that was hoping Percy would take the deal so he didnt have to think about #eventually loosing him? Did Grover ever #in his most selfish thoughts #recent him for shutting the option down?

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chrolloluvr · 1 month

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May you please write Mammon x reader smut. Where the reader is short and has a size difference kink. If you do I give many thanks in advance (Seriously love this blog so much)

♡ Mammon w/ A Size Kink ♡

Note: AHHH TYSM BOOKIE!!! Also yes this has been on my mind for so long... and I have not made a proper NSFW fic yet until now. So here you go! (alot more NSFW coming soon, especially for this man...) So here are my thoughts! Also sorry if its a bit short...

AFAB, Female!Reader

Warnings: Size kink, belly bulge, penetration, overstimulation, size transformation, oral (female and male receiving) ★

The height difference makes him feral. He is at least a couple feet taller than you. So he likes to use this to his advantage. By manhandling you. he will pick you up, grab your waist, literally rip your legs off of its hinges when he pulls them apart, etc. So, he likes when you are shorter than him. It gives him a power influx, and it makes him feel supreme to you. So he will basically use you like a glorified sex doll.

He will purposely make himself transform into a couple feet taller. Like a big, scary spider. So he can intimidate you, and get you riled up. He wont have actual penetrative sex with you in his big spider form, but he will eat you out.

And he delivers very well. His tongue is huge. You feel like your in cloud 9 whenever he eats your pussy, especially because he does not do it very often.

his favorite position, especially due to his size, is Full Nelson. He likes how in this position, he has complete control over you. With his upper hands behind your knees, his hips under your own, and his lower arms circling your sensitive clit, and his other hand pussy slapping you. Sometimes, he will place you in front of a big mirror, while hammering his hips into your vice, little pussy. Also making you look at yourself, being utterly destroyed by his large cock. He will tie your ankles together with his webs when he does this.

His other favorite is picking you up, and putting his hands under your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. He enjoys listening to the skin slapping sounds, and how lude they sound. And seeing your reactions to his every harsh thrust to your G-spot. And how especially cramped you are between his body, his cock, and his arms, with a tight grip on your ass. This position makes you more sensitive and vulnerable, which is just where he wants you.

Belly Bulge. Need I say more? It makes him laugh, and chuckle about how 'your gonna take it- fuck, yeah, you like that don't you- little fuckin' slut-'

It makes him realize just how large he is compared to you. How much he effects you and your body. He craves this kind of dominance over you.

He is a little bastard. When he sees you have a belly bulge from his constant plummeting, he will press down onto it. This, as he is well aware of, makes you see stars. You become a moaning, drooling, babbling mess under his large self. Which is what he wants, of course.

The sheer size of his dick. He cant help but feel aroused, when he compares you and his cock side by side. Every now and then, he will have you sat right behind it, while he holds you, and just admire how small you are. He has to prep you for your first time together, and even every single time you guys do have sex. Simply because of the size of it. And its not just long, its girthy too. So if you dont have some prep, he might end up abominating your poor womb.

He especially likes seeing you struggle, especially when you give him head. you can barely fit your mouth around it. Your jaw gets sore within literal seconds of putting his member in your mouth. So you have to use your hands (which also barely touch eachother), for the rest of his cock.

Overstimulating you. His favorite way of overstimulation you is with his arms and hands. He will have you trapped in between his legs. One of his lower arms will be fingering your supple core; the other one circling harshly around your clit. One of his upper hands holding your waist up; the other one toying with your breast and sensitive, puffy nipples.

He also likes overstimulating you, by having you cock warm him. Its one of his favorite past times. Especially when you two try to be sneaky, like during his pageants ontop of the webbing. (should I make a whole other post about this??) He just loves feeling the warmth of your pussy against his cold self. And he wont let you move. Like at all. Unless he grabs your hips and forcibly bounces you up and down, which is after a while of waiting of course.

Dirty talk. He loves making you feel smaller, so he will talk down upon you. Everything he calls you starts with 'my', because he is very possessive. things like "my slut", "my whore", "my princess", etc. He will never talk about you in a truly bad connotation. So he will say things like:

"You like being my little slut, yeah?"

"C'mon, you can take more. don't be a baby."

"yeahhhh. Takin' it like a fuckin' champ. Good fuckin' girl-"

"Oh fuck... shit just like that"

"Ohh yeah- thats some good shit."

"Dont you dare fuckin' move."

"You feelin' good princess? Yeah I bet you are. Fittin' me like a glove."

"Awww you want more? Your gonna have to wait a bit, m'kay?"

"You want it inside? Ya' want daddy to fill ya' up real nice?"

So overall, he favors when you are small and meek. Just be a good girl for him, and you wont have to worry about his intimidation, okay?

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love-bitesx · 11 months

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: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

#hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #spiderman atsv #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk #spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader

3K notes · View notes

ma1dita · 3 months

Text

buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion.

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like he’s lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs.

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?”

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with the road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. With both of you taking up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointing you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?”

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—-

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind.

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…”

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing.

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive. You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—-

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. The both of you ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, a purple Zippo lighter in hand whose smoke grants temporary illusions wafting through the car, and it smells like grapes (thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he wards them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries and he runs headfirst back into battle, you with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—-

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend. But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two.

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—-

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

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#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

820 notes · View notes

chocoshrooms · 11 months

Note

Fluff creepypasta headcanons?

:: FLUFF CREEPYPASTA HEADCANONS ::

• i do not own the image above •

NOTES ( i just went with adding random fluff headcanons of various creeps because i wasn’t too sure what to write exactly. hopefully this is what you wanted… but if not, feel free to request more! this took so long to get out, i’m sorry! life is a bit hectic sometimes but i still love to write when possible :) )

◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️

:; brian will hold doors open for you, he lets you in the room before he enters himself no matter where you are. even when you are away from the manor/their homes! he also opens vehicle doors, too

:; toby and ben will remove anything from your hair that gets stuck, they’ll also adjust your hair if your hairstyle gets out of place. this gives them an excuse to gently touch you and they “look like a gentleman”

:; brian, ben, eyeless jack, dark link and toby always give their S/O a kiss goodbye no matter where they are going. you could literally be going outside to hangout on the porch and they will get a quick smooch in

:; eyeless jack, brian, kagekao, nina, and jane are probably the most comfiest to cuddle with.

jack is tall and big which gives you plenty of room to cuddle him from all angles or get comfy underneath him.

brian likes to wrap his arms around you and bring your bodies chest to chest, he’s also really warm! it takes seconds to fall asleep!

kagekao is also similar to jack but always smells so good like lavender oils, which he probably does put on himself just because he also thought it smelled good. he’ll also share some wine with you while you wind down for the night

nina is a chaotic cuddler and definitely the little spoon. she will fight over this, but it’s cute! she’s all over you, underneath or on top. though she does drool once she passes out

jane has a warm, tight embrace. she will wrap her arms around you while scratching your head/back for comfort. she also smells amazing and her chest is a great place to lay your head, sooo comfy

:; jane and nina love to do makeup! they will glam you up in heartbeat if you ask them to. if your makeup starts to get a little runny or is a bit messy they will fix it for you, too! (they’re good about making it not discreet so you’re not embarrassed). their hands always smell fruity when they get close to your face with a makeup brush, you’ll be thinking about the smell all day

:; toby, dark link, ben, and nina are huge hand holders. they are always reaching for their s/o’s hand

toby has a tight grip, he’s the one who will grab your hand every single time you’re with him. almost without a thought, he’s wrapped around his s/o!

dark link is a gentle hand holder, he likes to be smooth with it and usually runs his fingers over your shoulders and down your arms before locking his fingers in yours. he’s very proud of his s/o!

ben is a lazy hand holder, he has a really loose grip but don’t pull away from him! he gets so offended but it makes him realize he needs to hold a bit tighter

nina is a bit like toby, she’s all over her s/o (or really anyone in general). she loves to hold hands and will comment on good manicure techniques that will get your hands/nails in shape

:; eyeless jack is a nest maker, if you’re his s/o he will definitely make you the most comfiest spot to lay in, even though his s/o’s are allowed to snuggle in his bed (which is a bundle of covers and pillows he’s arranged like a nest)

:; brian, tim and jeff love to tease other creeps, but especially their s/o. height difference is something they pick at. cant reach the top cabinet? they’ll come up behind you and coo at how small you are, “poor thing can’t get a cup? guess you’ll be thirsty, haha.”

but! they can’t be mean for long. they’ll get you whatever you need and expect a kiss for the help.

:; all the creeps enjoy when their s/o sits on their lap!

eyeless jack and kage are pretty huge guys being demons and all, so they’re the most comfiest to sit on. there’s so much room to move around and honestly if you do move around a lot, they more than likely don’t even know. they give amazing head scratches, you’ll be asleep in seconds

brian, tim, jeff, and toby are a normal size for humans. they’re also very comfy themselves but are more likely to be the ones who fall asleep first! brian and tim especially love when they’re busy doing paper work and their s/o crawls into their lap, they may scold you for a bit saying they’re busy but they’re really not busy enough for your cuddles

ben and dark link are demons like jack and kage (i hc them to be lol) but they’re much smaller demons! definitely bigger than the average human but not as big as the other two. ben is cold to the touch so he’s nice to sit on when you’re hot but dark is the opposite! both place their hands on your hips or wrap their arms around you right when you sit on them

jane and nina are the squishiest seats, and the most great smelling… and more! the second you’re on their lap they’re ecstatic, reaching out to you or giving you a hug from behind. they’re ready to talk so it’s never boring!

:; brian, tim, jeff, kage, dark link and eyeless jack are rough kissers. they’re more likely to bite your lip and start a heated make out session

jane, nina, toby, and ben are soft kissers (of course this depends if you’re getting freaky) but they’re more likely to kiss you and ask how your day has been before anything else

◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️◾️

Bunch of random creeps! If you’d like a specific creep, please check out my profile & pick any character(s) from the list that i write for! Any request made will be out first thing! thanks so much for the requests/support so far! <3 i cant believe some of my headcanons have already gotten over 100+ hearts (or close to) ahhh :) everyone seems to like ben a bit 👀 - 🍫🍄

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m2ok · 1 year

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Ooooohhh König with a shorter s/o that keeps stealing his shirts

-🐝

ugheirgerigu height difference holds my heart <333. Also, I’m working on your other requests right now <33

König With a Short S/O

König x Reader

A/N: i just made these headcannons, because i felt i could do that better than a fic. I felt like a fic would be too short ( even though this is also short-). Male reader is intended, but could be read as Gender Neutral

He’s used to being taller than everyone, so you being shorter than him is not a surprise at all. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love it though, and he absolutely exploits it. He puts things higher on shelves just so you have to ask him to get it for you. He also for sure does that thing where he leans down to your level so that he can hear you better.

Now, i know big boy has social anxiety, but i don’t think he’s as timid as everyone makes him out to be. I say this because I think he would just pull you onto his lap whenever he could, he likes how grounding it is to have your body weight on his. Also side note but those thighs?? So very strong.

He does not go easier on you when you’re sparring as he thinks that would be a disservice to you and your capabilities. Of course he’s not going to do something that would seriously hurt you, but you will be thrown around and your height will be used against you.

Scary dog privileges, obviously. Someone not taking you seriously because of your stature? He’s just standing behind you, staring the person down until they comply. From then on that person doesn’t hesitate when told to do something.

He likes to hide you behind him when talking to people because he thinks its funny when you just pop out and scare the shit out of whoever he’s talking to.

Picks you up constantly. Especially when you’re about to get into a fight, like he’d just grab you under your arms and carry you away before punches can be thrown. A mission is going south? He’s throwing you over his shoulder before you can even think of continuing said mission.

Okay now onto the clothing stealing. He cant even try to hide how much he likes it when you were his clothes. They’re just so long on you and it’s obvious who’s clothes you’re wearing. Especially loves it when you walk around base in one of his hoodies, because then everyone gets a little reminder who you’re dating.

First time you stole his shirt he was a giggling little mess, he was covering his already masked face with his hands because of how hard he was blushing.

I think whenever he’d want to see you in his clothes he would just hold out whatever article it is and wait for you to take it and put it on. As soon as you did he would insist on spending the rest of the night cuddling. He just always wants to hug you :(((((

Overall he gets very cuddly when you’re wearing his stuff. It’s like cuteness aggression, and I think he would legitimately give you little love bites because he simply cannot handle it.

As always, requests are open

#cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod imagine #cod x male reader #male reader #fanfic #könig x y/n #könig x male reader #könig x you #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig #könig x gn!reader #gender neutral s/o #gender neutral fanfic

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gascreates · 4 months

Text

them :) dino refs finally complete, so now i can make all the joke comics i want

design thoughts under the cut

aang- second hardest design to ge through. at first i couldn't decide on a species, and then i couldn't get the colors to work. believe it or not, bright yellow right next to bright blue is painful to look at. so instead i opted for an all orange color pallette. does he look like a candy corn? yes. and we love him for it. puny lil candy corn avatar

katara- sweet baby so easy, love her, perfect design, no tears shed except for joy. also GIGANTIC. non negotiable part of her design tbh. and aquatic dino!! spinosaurus was the only choice. the sail is meant to look like her necklace! isnt that cool. im so cool and talented.

sokka- nanuqsaurus is! maybe a cold weather dino. possibly. so we did that. he's smaller than his sister and he's mad about it :) also, him face is warriors paint!! and i know that atla water tribes didn't really have anything to do with orcas, but I love orcas and i wanted to give sokka some recognizably hunter-y pattern. so, orca white markings.

toPH- i am ENDLESSLY SUGFERING. do you know how many times i flip flopped on toph's species. do you understand how many hours i spent debating over the benefits of triceratops vs protoceratops?? ankylosaurus vs. pachysephalosaurus???? my agony is unending. im still unsure. sacrificing the concept that toph could take down a t rex (trike) for the small n unassuming character theme (proto). also the badgermole looking markings are cool i guess

zuko- this is where you pretend that im bot playing favorites when it comes to dino species. why is he a deinonychus? cuz i like big raptors, that's why. go away. dont look at me. he's cute. he looks like a bird and i love that for him. also something something aang and zuko similar species that specialize differently based on how their environments changed them, zuko an echo of the potential of flight and aang an echo of the potential to hunt. flock bird vs pack hunter. same but different.

height chart:

i really cant say if it's accurate at all to the real dinos, but i was lazy and didnt want to do math, so it's just eyeballed heights. the important part is that we understand how tiny aang is and how massive katara is

#pls ignore my theropod bias #im allowed to have favorite dinosaurs #even if they're basic bitch carnivores #also if you saw other versions of this post no you didnt #did you know if your internet dies when you're editing a draft on mobile and save it tumblr just posts it #that's so fuckin stupid #ANYWAY im posting now #and im bracing against the lower note count that i know is coming #i do this for me and it doesn't matter if other people like it #(pls like it i die without validation ahdgjshdg)#I AM DO NOT REQUIRE ATTENTION TO THRIVE #(i want. attention)#atla #atla dino au

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kentosbabes · 1 year

Note

Could you do Headcanons for Gojo (if you haven’t already) dating a really short girl that he kinda likes to throw around and such.

Gojo’s size kink hcs

Gojo cant get enough of the height difference between you two. Even when he first met you he couldn’t believe how small you are compared to him. but also couldn’t believe the attitude and the strength that comes with it. You stand shouting at him for forgetting about the date he’d promised a week before, but all he can think about is how much he wants to just throw you over his shoulder and shut you up in more ways then one.

Gojo makes sure you feel safe and secure when in public. his large hands wrapped around your waist as you stride down the streets dragging him into shops and restaurants. he loves when you hold onto one of his fingers as you walk side by side, or tug on the bottom of his jacket. he just looks down at you with a wide smile as you look up at him with a pout batting your eyelashes. it’s his weakness, you want new shoes? as soon as you look up at him with a pout and those innocent eyes, he’s buying you pairs and pairs of shoes. As for getting your nails and hair done, it's not even a question, as soon as you mention needing a touch-up or new set the money is sent to your account and if he can he will come with you sitting with your bag in his lap watching everything. and when they're done you place your small hand in his large one showing him the new set the color matching his eyes with his initial painted on your ring finger.

Gojo has no sense of personal space he’s all over you all the time. he loves how easily he can wrap you in his arms and engulf you with his body. As you wait for him to come home while cooking dinner, you don’t hear him walking through the apartment, you just feel his arms wrap around you, his hands reaching the sides of your waist and leaning down to place his chin on your shoulder. ‘hey baby’ you say turning you your looking up at him your arms wrapping around his neck. his body still bent down to let you kiss his lips, he groans as your fingers explore his hair. his hands pulling you into him, his feet going backwards as if to tell you to come to bed

Gojo doesn’t even listen to your words telling him ‘not now’ ‘maybe later’ he just picks up your small frame and throws you over his shoulder smacking your ass in the process. he loves manhandling you and he knows you love it too, the way he holds you head up making you watch as his long fingers pound into you has you arching in his grip. 'got baby your so tight' he says his captivating eyes meeting yours 'you can't even take my fingers'.

Gojo who moves you around to hit all those deep spots in you. From backshots he picks you up turning you around, folding you in half so he can reach even deeper in you. 'f-fuck satoru' you moan out as on you his hands presses down on your stomach the other holding your legs in place over his shoulder. 'I know you can take it baby' he says, his thrust speeding up 'your squeezing me so hard'. his fingers begin playing with your clit his eyes burning into yours as you arch in his grasp.

Gojo even after sex just picks you up taking you into the bathroom to help you clean up. He's not letting you lift a finger, bathing you, ordering food, and cuddling you in bed as you fall asleep in his arms.

masterlist

#gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo headcanons #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #satoru jjk #jjk headcanons #kentosbabes #jjk x reader

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wh0re4women · 1 year

Text

Attitude Adjustment. (Larissa Weems X Lady Lesso X Reader.) NSFW

Summary: Lesso thinks you need a punishment, Larissa unfortunately agrees.

Warnings: Mistress!Lesso, Mommy!Larissa, Student!Reader 18+, spanking, mild dirty talk, ending in fluff <3

"Darling, is this really necessary?" Larissa carefully asked as she paced back and forth throughout her office. Her mind was running wild with the knowledge of your upcoming punishment.

Lesso stood leaning against a wall, a dark chuckle leaving her throat as she held a cane wedged between the palm of her left hand and the floor, "Oh, please, my love. You and I both know that she deserves more than a spanking. If anything, I'm being beyond lenient."

"You're right," Larissa admitted as she stopped in her tracks, looking over into the red-heads eyes for the first time since the conversation had started, "you're right, darling. But it doesn't make it any easier."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

Just as Lesso finished speaking, the door to Larissa's office flung open and you tiredly shuffled inside, both women shooting you very different glances.

"Look who the cat dragged in," Lesso smirked, to which you rolled your eyes as you flung your bag away from you without care.

"Darling, what happened?" Larissa immediately rushed over to you, stopping only once she was in front of the leather couch you had dropped onto. Your uniform was a mess; shirt untucked, tie gone, tights ripped. Larissa couldn't believe her eyes.

"It's been a long day," you sighed dramatically.

"It's about to get even longer," Lesso chimed and you narrowed your eyes at her, shooting her a confused glance. She was always ominous when she was in a bad mood. Great.

"What happened to your uniform?" Larissa pressed further, ignoring Lesso's comments and the attitude that was seeping out of you. Her hands sat on her hips. She was concerned.

"I may have gotten into a fight," you mumbled quietly and quickly, not daring to look the woman in the eyes.

"[y/n], look at me when I'm speaking to you," the tall blonde scolded lightly, her worry growing with every second, "and speak up, darling. What happened?"

You opened your mouth to repeat yourself but before you could get another word in, Lesso interrupted the conversation, making her way over to the both of you, "She said she got into a fight. Again."

You glared at your curly haired girlfriend.

"A fight?!" Larissa was appalled, "Again?! [y/n], this is—"

"Ridiculous," Lesso finished Larissa's sentence for her, "Pathetic, really. You cant keep your hands to yourself?"

You rolled your eyes, "It wasn't—"

"Your fault? No, it never is, is it, baby?"

The red-head was now crouched in front of the couch, eye-level with you. A stoic, almost-mocking look was accompanying her face. A stark contrast to Larissa's alarmed expression.

Spending time with the two older women was your favourite thing, but this wasn't your week. And the last thing you wanted was to bicker with Lesso, even if you did secretly find it hot to infuriate her.

"Lesso—"

"It's Mistress."

You gulped, "I'm not doing this today."

As you tried to stand, a cane was pressed against your chest and you were pushed back down, lodged between the couch and Lesso's strength as she now stood at her full height.

Desperately looking for remorse, you worriedly glanced over at Larissa, who looked almost sympathetic as she watched you squirm under the curly haired woman's power.

"Larissa, I—"

"It's mommy, darling," the principal finally spoke and her tone had dropped a few decibels lower than you expected, throwing you off.

"You're both teaming up against me?!"

Lesso chuckled coldly and you immediately knew you had blown it. If Larissa couldn't save you, no one could.

"Mommy?" You tried again, looking up at Larissa from under your eyelashes, batting them as a pout fixed itself onto your lips.

"Listen to your Mistress, darling. I don't have the energy to argue with you today," the Principal numbly told you before going over to sit behind her desk.

Your mouth flew open in disbelief as you focused back onto Lesso, "What did you do to her?!"

"What I did to her, [y/n]?" The woman before you seethed and it was enough to keep you sat still in place even after she yanked her cane away and slammed it onto the ground as to make a point, "We're going to talk about what you've done first, how's that for a change?"

You didn't get to reply before Lesso began chastising you again.

"You're insolent. You've been misbehaving in classes all week. You're a downright brat at times and more so lately than usual. You don't listen for shit, especially when your mommy tells you to do something you don't deem as important. And don't even get me started on the fact that I've smelled alcohol on your lips during school hours—"

"I'm an adult!"

"Yeah? I'll start believing it when you start acting like it."

A huff left your mouth. You were quick to cross your arms over your chest defiantly, staring daggers at the ceiling.

"My point is made," Lesso harshly finished, making sure to wait a few seconds to see if you were going to talk back. Once she was sure you were truly done, she made her way across the room towards Larissa.

You could've made a run for it. You thought about it. You contemplated it. You considered it especially greatly when you heard whispers between your two girlfriends and you couldn't decipher a single word. But before you could even get up, you were distracted by Larissa rising from her desk and making her way towards the double doors that led to her sleeping quarters.

You watched as she walked through, not paying any mind to you what so ever. Her white shirt was tucked into a black midi skirt that flowed as she walked, her heels tapping even after she was out of your eyesight, coming to a halt a few seconds later.

Lesso turned to look at you at the same time that you had quizzically begun eyeing her. Her cane rose from the floor, pointing towards the same door Larissa had disappeared through, "What are you waiting for? Off you go."

You furrowed your eyebrows. It wasn't that you were purposely ignoring the bad feeling in your stomach, it was just that your curiosity had gotten better of you and you ended up following instructions this time.

Feet coming to a halt once you entered the large space, a pit of anticipation began forming in your lower stomach.

Larissa was sat on the edge of her king sized bed, a serious look occupying her face. You made eye contact and the older blonde patted her lap, causing you to furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"I... I don't get it," you spoke, before turning back to look at Lesso, who was now almost directly behind you, as if to make sure you wouldn't bolt away the first chance you got.

The red-head raised her eyebrows and lowered her head towards you, whispering in your ear, "Over her lap, baby girl. Now."

You giggled, which only lasted a few seconds as you realised Lesso's serious look had not faltered. Confused, you looked over to Larissa, then to Lesso, then back to Larissa.

"Mommy?"

"Stop pouting, darling. Do as you're told," Larissa swiftly spoke, "I don't have the time to play games today. I have a meeting with some of your teachers in an hour."

You couldn't believe it. You weren't half as bad as some of the other girls in the school (cough cough, Wednesday) and yet, you were the one constantly in trouble. It was probably all of Lesso's doing!

"Wait, wait," you lifted your hands in defence, pausing for a second as you looked back at Lesso, "I promise I'll change."

The older woman chuckled, clearly amused at your antics before grasping your left shoulder and turning you around, pressing her cane onto your lower back and shoving you forward, "Shut up. Do as you're told."

You weren't sure whether the situation was more embarrassing or the whine that had just slid its way out of your mouth.

Giving you no more time to protest, Larissa leaned forward and clutched your wrist before pulling you over her lap.

"No! Please! I'll be good, I swear this time!" You began thrashing around, and the poor principal couldn't bare to see you so helpless, so she began shushing you gently.

"It's ok, darling. The quicker you let Lesso do this, the quicker it'll all be over," Larissa sweetly cooed as she began pulling your tights down, before flipping your skirt up and rubbing the half-bare skin on your ass.

You heard Lesso muffle a groan at the sight before hearing her footsteps inch closer. "So pretty," she paused and you felt Larissa pet your hair gently before the red-head spoke again, "It's a shame you're such a bad girl."

A roaring smack tore through the room as you unexpectedly felt Lesso's cane meet your skin in a searing kiss, making you squeal in pain as you began thrashing again.

"Please! Please! Mistress, please."

"Please what? More?" The curly haired woman was having the time of her life as she lifted her cane and flung it down onto your soft skin once again, "Stay. Still."

You whimpered. Loud.

"Ssh, darling. Just three more," Larissa rubbed your back with one hand as she grabbed your wrists with the other, pinning them to your lower back.

"Three, if she takes them well," Lesso half-joked and the principal shot her a stern look, making the red-head shrug her shoulders in reply. She was going to teach you a lesson, that's for sure. You could call a 'red' any time, you knew that. Larissa and Lesso both knew that. But you all shared the knowledge that your punishment was well deserved, even if some of you didn't want to admit it.

"I-I'm sorry," you sulked, whining and squirming in Larissa's lap as you awaited another spanking.

Sure enough, it came a second later, leaving you gasping and crying out in shock, the sting heating your body.

"Sorry doesn't cut it anymore, baby girl," Lesso pointed out.

Larissa hummed in agreement and you couldn't have felt more betrayed in the moment. You were just trying to make school more bearable for yourself; sure, drinking once in a while and sometimes getting into fights wasn't the best way to go about it, but what else did you have to do? And yeah, maybe your attitude had been a little over the top lately. And you did sneak out a lot at night. And there was this one time you had almost poisoned Ms. Thornhill during a prank gone wrong. And—

Two sharp hits distracted you from your thoughts as you broke free from Larissa's grasp and covered your back side. The back-to-back swings of Lesso's cane had forced tears into your eyes and before she could even conclude your punishment, you shot up into a sitting position on Larissa's lap, wrapping your arms around her neck and snuggling into her warm skin, "I'm so sorry!"

"I didn't say we were done," Lesso interrupted. She was surprised at your bravery and how quickly you had managed to go from faux-begging and apologising, to actually sounding sincere.

"It's all right, darling. Mommy's got you," Larissa spoke gently, rubbing your back in a comforting manner immediately. She gave Lesso the 'mom' look.

"Well," the redhead cleared her throat, "I suppose you did take your punishment suitably."

You breathed out a sigh of relief, relaxing into Larissa's body, "I'm sorry for being such a brat."

"What was that?" Lesso asked, walking over the the bed and dropping onto the edge by the tall blonde that was cradling you sideways now as you looked into Lesso's eyes.

"I said I'm sorry for being a brat."

"I cant hear you. You're going to have to speak up, baby," Lesso teased, making Larissa laugh softly.

You rolled your eyes playfully, hiding your smile as you reached back and grabbed a pillow before swinging it forward and hitting Lesso with it.

The red-head gasped, "Oh no, you didn't!"

"Yes, I did!"

Larissa shook her head as Lesso climbed back onto the bed, grabbing another pillow, "You are both unbelievable," she laughed, before kissing your head and softly guiding you off of her.

"I have a meeting, so don't you dare hit me with those pillows," the woman stood up and dusted her outfit off, while you and Lesso both shared a knowing look.

You both turned to Larissa with devious looks on your faces and the poor blonde woman bolted out of the room with the widest eyes, losing her heels in the process, leaving you and Lesso in fits of laughter.

#larissa weems x you #larissa weems x reader #wednesday fic #mine #lady lesso x reader #lady lesso x you #leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso x you #school for good and evil #larissa weems x lady lesso x reader #larissa weems x lady lesso x you #larissa weems x lady lesso

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