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#so please DO tell me if any of this is offensive as that is NOT my intent
bumblekastclips · 17 hours
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KYLE CROUSE: And we’ve got a question from Jill! “Do NOT worry, this is definitely not a fan idea that's usable!” IAN FLYNN: That makes me nervous. KYLE: I mean, I think they’re right, but… [continuing to read] “I have a headcanon that in the future, swear words kinda lost their meaning and filtered into normal speech and are no longer offensive, so in present time Silver is going round swearing like crazy using the foulest words in his conversations but obviously has no idea what he’s doing. How do his friends react? Who’s going to tell him? Who finds it funny? More importantly, how does Vanilla react to him dropping the F-bomb in front of Cream?”
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IAN: [chuckling] KYLE: [laughs] Yeah, I don’t think you can use that one, Ian. IAN: True enough, true enough. I think most folks would be a trifle taken aback, because they are… generally nice and genteel people. I mean, even Eggman would be slightly flustered— he- he thinks himself a gentleman. KYLE: Weird. IAN: [as Eggman] “What language do you use, young man?!” Sonic would think it’s funny. KYLE: [laughs] IAN: Like, maybe the first F-bomb would kinda catch him off guard, and then he realizes that Silver doesn’t mean it that way, it’s just part of his personal lexicon. And he’s just like, [snort] “Alright buddy! You do you, alright!” KYLE: [laughing] He’s not gonna stop him! IAN: [as other character] “Are you gonna tell him to stop?” [as Sonic] “Noooo.”  KYLE: [laughs] IAN: Uh, Knuckles doesn’t flinch ‘cause, y’know, he’s lived alone his whole life, he doesn’t know those words. KYLE: Yeah, yeah, yeah. IAN: If anything, he’s learning a new dialect! KYLE: [giggles] Uh, how does Knuckles know any words? IAN: That is a question we’re not gonna answer. Anyway— KYLE: Oh, okay. IAN: And Vanilla… mmm, she’s just gonna punt Silver back to the future. KYLE: [cackles] IAN: When that shoe reaches 88 miles per hour, you’re gonna see some serious shit! KYLE: [laughs]
—— TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It’s just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don’t like an answer, you don’t have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It’s all just for fun!
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sooo.... anyone else ever wondered how different ATLA would have been if aang had been frozen at age 16 instead of age 12?
yeah... me too 😌 my new fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" follows the events of the show, but with only aang aged up, while everyone else remains their canon age.
also...cmon....how funny is it to switch zuko and aang's iconic dialogue to "you're just a teenager!" "...so are you?"
this idea was originally inspired by the talented @allgremlinart's aged up aang drawings, so please go show them some love!!:)<3
enjoy the excerpts from chapter three, that just dropped this morning!
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Katara watched Aang take one last, painful look at the temple, then turn to the sky ahead, lit up in shades of orange, pink, and gold. She swore she could see arrows in every cloud, arrows like the ones inked across Aang’s body, and the gentle breeze that carried the crisp night air towards them seemed to wrap around them like a loving spirit.
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“...You have no idea where we’re going, do you?” Sokka sighed, turning the map that was held against Appa’s saddle with a couple of rocks toward himself. “I’ve been charting our progress, and it’s starting to look more like a scrap of paper a toddler is practising circles on than a navigational tool.”
“C’mon Sokka, I’m an Air nomad, travel is in my blood. I have a very strong internal compass. Besides, you’ll find that as a nomad, I’m a master of evasive manoeuvring.” Katara raised an eyebrow, looking up from her spot near the back of the saddle as she stitched a rip in Sokka’s pants. “Besides,” Aang continued, typical teenage boy overconfidence emitting from his tone of voice. “I know it’s near water.”
Sokka leaned over the edge of the saddle, eyes scanning the blue expanse below them that stretched as far as the eye could see. “We must be getting close then,” he scoffed, his tone dripping in sarcasm as he slouched back into his spot across from Katara.
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“Aang,” she said distractedly, “could you hold this for me?” She handed him the mirror. 
“Y-yeah, no problem.”
She tugged out her hair ties, flipping her head upside down for a moment to make sure that it had all gotten loose, then she gingerly tugged a few tendrils of water from the nearby ocean and wrapped tiny streams around her hair, tugging out the crimped braid pattern and reviving her curls. Then, she carefully bent the remaining liquid back out. 
She couldn’t see his face through her thick hair as she stood back up, but from his voice, Aang seemed impressed. “I get that you haven’t been able to learn any big combat moves, but for someone whose bending is self- taught, you sure have a pretty good handle on these smaller things.”
She properly flipped her head up now, curls and waves bouncing around her face. Her dark brown locks shone with honey-toned highlights, all different shades of caramel and chocolate sparkling as they framed her face. She reached up, gently twisting and clipping a few strands out of the way, but a few wayward pieces still fell forward, gently brushing against soft, full lips and smooth skin. Aang awkwardly froze for a moment, caught off guard by how different she looked when her hair was loose and free. He had a weird urge to tell her so, but bit his tongue, instead focusing on her answer. 
“I learned most of the smaller things from helping Gran-Gran.” Katara’s eyes sparkled, clearly caught up in a vision of home as she reached up to brush up her hair. “ As she’s gotten older, her range of mobility has started leaving her. It’s not really comfortable or safe for her to stoop over to wash her hair, so I learned how to bring the water to her and wash it while she was sitting up, then I learned how to dry it for her fast.”
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Sokka yelped, his voice defensive and offensive all at once. “There is no way a bunch of girls in cutesy makeup and dresses managed to tie me up.”
“Awe, you think our makeup is cutesy? How sweet .” The girl's voice was crooning at first, sweet and gentle, but Katara could see from the way her muscles flexed as she held Sokka by the collar that there was venom hiding behind those words. She was right. “Throw him to the Unagi.”
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“Katara, c’mon, we’re supposed to be sticking together, where are you going?” Aang tugged at her arm until she was facing him, looking at her earnestly as if he hadn’t basically been flirting with all of those girls back there.
The words came out before she could stop them. “I thought monks weren’t supposed to go around flirting with any random girl, and they’re definitely not supposed to go around catering to a village full of fangirls.”
Aang raised an eyebrow, his expression teasing in a way that made Katara want to splash the smirk off of his face in a wave of water. “You sure have a lot of opinions on what you think monks are supposed to do, considering that I’m the only one you’ve ever met.” He shifted his weight, leaning in a bit closer. “Matter of fact, maybe it's just that you have a lot of opinions on what you think I’m supposed to be doing.”
Katara stiffened at the memory of the words that Sokka had just said minutes before. “Why would I care what you’re doing? I don’t. ”
Aang shrugged, reaching past her to grab a papaya and biting into it. After swallowing, he reached into Katara’s satchel, his hand brushing her waist as he pulled out some coins and quietly thanked the vendor. “Keep telling yourself that, Katara.” Hearing his name from her lips did something to her, but she kept her gaze level, eyes blazing with flame until Aang backed off.
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
♥ check out the three chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->
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naomiknight-17 · 1 month
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My day started by being woken by Leon knocking over the garbage bin, then I was further disturbed by a phone call from the doctor's office when I specifically asked not to be called in the morning, then I had to cancel my plans for the day due to the weather, then I came on Tumblr and someone got nitpicky about how I phrased something regarding Dungeon Meshi
I am in such a mood to fight someone rn I gotta restrain myself
Maybe I should go do some dishes
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sleepless-crows · 1 year
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i think its interesting what leigh did with the crows where she put them through so much like any other book character but it's rare that no one gets severely depressed after going through the stuff they have. but not one of them really is.
in a lot of books, movies, and other media, we see usually that one depressed character that has gone through so much. and their depression is valid. it's normal to feel dejected and hopeless in their circumstances. and in no way am i implying that depression is invalid or uncommon throughout the next paragraphs. because it is very valid, sadly common, and an extremely important thing.
but the things is, none of the crows are outright and severely depressed. because if they were, we wouldn't be reading about them. the crows are soldiers and survivors. that's who they are and what makes them them. even after going through the things that they have, they did not lose hope. maybe for a while, but they always fought. if someone lost hope and gave up in the barrel, that would be it. ketterdam forces you to persist because once you let go, you really will let go.
at one point in their lives, the crows may have felt like all hope was lost. they didn't have anything to live for. but either they found a reason or they lived to live. if one of them gave up, that would be the end of it. because no one expects anything from barrel rats. if they gave up, there would be no one stopping them. because that's the cruelty of the barrel. and that is why the crows had to be survivors. they had to be cockroaches. they always had to have motivations and reasons to live for. and they couldn't afford to lose hope because if they did, no one would stop them and no one would miss them.
no mourners, no funerals. this wasn't just a way of saying good luck. it was also a dark wink to the fact that there would be no expensive burials for them. it was an inspirational quote, i guess you could call it. because they couldn't afford to lose hope, because they are the only ones looking out for themselves. and it gives new meaning to found family that they found people to grieve for them, to miss them, to lift them up when they feel like giving up now. because they may be survivors, but they shouldn't have to survive alone.
please tell me if this is offensive or harmful because i didn't intend for it to come off that way, and if it is i have to correct myself and change this or take it down.
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Dude, you're in idiot. The club q shooter is trying to say he's nonbinary in order to avoid hate crime charges. The people around him have stated that he's gone on multiple homophobic and transphobic rants and that they wouldn't feel safe having a gay person around him. Not that this matters to you, since catholics can't read. But you're an idiot
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received first hate mail! all they did was call me an idiot! on anon! and say that Catholics don't know how to read! which is hilarious! considering the reason that we have so many influential philosophical works is because of Catholics and our annoying habit of reading and writing!
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robertsbarbie · 11 months
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i understand venting without wanting solutions but sometimes there NEEDS to be solutions and you NEED to accept help otherwise you life is always gonna be fucking miserable
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yelloworangesoda · 3 months
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genuinely like passively suicidal at this point bc i literally dont know why i bother. im not gonna kill myself but like someone deal with me im just dead weight
#im being dramatic but i really feel like theres absolutely 0 out there for me#i dont like the world we live in i… dont want to live in it. i dont think its worth it#every day i do whatever someone told me to do and then i go to bed and wake up and do it tomorrow and im just. not fine with that anymore#im not this depressed and upset during the day but its so bleak that ive considered faking it just for. yknow attention ig idk#but i dont have the time to do that either. i have to hang out with my boyfriend and go to my moms house and help out my grandma#all things that are so stressful to me. no offense babe if you ever read this but i get so stressed trying to do stuff with you bc you#always want me to decide. which like i understand but i never want to. i want to lay in bed idk what to tell you. theres no real solution t#that its fine its just whats true. i dont have any 2 person hobbies bc. idk. ive never actually had friends or something#anyway please god dont read this before your birthday weekend and feel uptight about it. and never do. its fine its fine i promise#this is embarrassing. youre the only one that sees these posts though i think i may as well address them to you outright. i feel like im a#terrible boyfriend bc i dont do anything. im so passive i feel like im just pathetic dead weight and im so scared to have been dating you#for a year bc thats an entire year of your life you couldve been finding someone that doesnt Just love you and want be with you but also is#like. good to be with. i know youd probably be thinking that its not true or something but theres nothing i have done that you havent done#tenfold youre just too good for me. idk#this is so embarrassing i should delete this#simons spouting#another. stupid vent post in the books. i wonder what tomorrow brings us#vent :(#suicide //
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shotmrmiller · 27 days
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johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.
he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.
and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.
the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.
a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)
"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'��" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."
excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."
"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."
you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—
"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.
"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."
-
damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.
he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.
you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.
lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.
double damn.
"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—
"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."
when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.
-
the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.
simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—
his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.
the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.
"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."
somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.
"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"
the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.
he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.
the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.
as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.
"hush."
you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"
you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.
wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.
the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.
"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.
"gonna beg?"
the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.
you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."
the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.
"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.
he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.
and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.
"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.
"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—
the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.
"ya with me?"
you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.
"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.
simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—
"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?
"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.
"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."
he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.
his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.
he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."
that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.
his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.
your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.
"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."
your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—
and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.
"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."
there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.
simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"
he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.
simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.
"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.
it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.
simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—
"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."
there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.
"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."
a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.
you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.
your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.
your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.
(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)
his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.
and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."
"pet."
"please stop looking at me like that."
he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.
"make me."
-
as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.
your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.
when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.
good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.
sent 5:30 am
about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.
sent 5:49 am
6K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 3 months
Note
Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕
ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)
“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.
Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”
You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 
He’s lucky he’s so pretty.
“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”
“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.
“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”
“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”
“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.
“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.
“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.
“You,” Eddie deadpans.
You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”
“Wait, what?”
Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”
Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 
The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.
“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”
Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”
“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”
“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.
“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.
“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.
Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”
“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.
All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.
“You have everything but the looks.”
“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”
“Can’t I?”
“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.
“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.
“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”
“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”
Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 
“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.
Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”
“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.
Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.
“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”
Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.
“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.
“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”
“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”
“It’s different. You know that.”
You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 
You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.
“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.
“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”
The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 
You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.
“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.
“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”
“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”
“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”
You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 
He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.
Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”
“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”
He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”
“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”
Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.
You cower under his stare. “What?”
“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.
“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.
“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”
“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.
You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.
“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”
You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”
Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 
This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.
Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.
“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”
“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”
“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”
“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”
“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.
“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”
“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”
Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.
The game of cat and mouse continues.
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kasssscali · 6 months
Note
If the request are still open, may I request some jealous Jax headcanons please? (Not dating the reader yet) thank you! ♡♡♡
A/N: yessiiiir Also requests are still closed, this person requested when they where open and I now just got to that
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I definitely see Jax being the type to get jealous easily, I have previously stated that he absolutely adores and craves any form of attention
it explains why he’s such a dick all the time
it takes him forever to realize that he’s catching feelings for someone, and that certain someone was YOU
its honestly infuriating to Jax, he can’t explain why he feels that way when it comes to you, at first he doesn’t know what it even is
During his stage of denial and questioning, his focus is on you a lot
what your doing, what your up to, and even potential dark fears he can find out
but seeing you get along so well with the other circus members instead of him, hurts him deep down
he’s in denial, and tries to shrug off that he doesn’t care at all
You apparently get along great with Kinger the most, the HOOHA of all people
“What do you see in that guy anyway?” He’ll straight up ask you about that, he’s very detailed with his facial expressions and you can see the visible annoyance in his face
Kinger is just a friend to you, “mhm, yeah sure” He’ll sell that attitude with an eye roll
he doesn’t want anyone knowing how much this is actually getting to him
Jax doesn’t hide his feelings when it comes to anger, annoyance, and anything frustrated related
and it’s so obvious that he’s frustrated with you being supposedly GREAT friends with Kinger
little does he know that his attitude pushes you away more, in order for Jax to come to terms with his emotions he needs someone to tell his to his face
him trying to figure out the problem let alone solve it is nearly impossible
When you start giving some attention to Jax, he’ll go right back to his usual self of being a dick
but now he’s especially a dick to YOU, which kind of proves that deep down he needed your attention
The two of you aren’t official, and Jax has no idea what he is feeling and how to deal with it
he’ll follow you around casually, he won’t in the slightest make a big deal about his little obsession with you
he’s not afraid to express his annoyance to you, if it seems like your shrugging him off his attitude is going to switch up real quick and it gets to the point where it makes you snap
”what are you in love with me or something?!”
Jax stares at you offensively, and he’s dead quiet for a second
”pppsssshhh! No” He‘ll wave his hand at you dismisvely “what makes you even think that?~”
but what you said can’t get out of his head, then it’s up to Zooble to help him out
I think that Zooble can easily read people, and sees the crush that he is oblivious too
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luna0713hunter · 7 months
Note
hello! may I request for a opla zoro x reader with the action/scenario being the kissing passionately against a wall? maybe zoro was feeling really protective over reader cause someone was hitting on her and after he beats their ass/threatens them he kisses reader? Preferably female reader please! Thank you!!
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Author's note : hello dear!!such a cute request! I'll be happy to write it!!! Hope you enjoy it (◕દ◕)
"passionate kissing,pressured up against a wall"
Based on this prompt
Zoro Roronoa x fem!reader
Warnings : reader getting hit on,idiot stranger not knowing who's he's messing with, protective Zoro
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
"Alright then, I'll go with Sanji to help him with the ingredients he wants!"
"i appreciate it but i very much rathered you didnt..."
"I'm going to look for new maps."
"and I'll stay to guard the ship, y'know,in case of an attack."
You wave everyone goodbye as you watch their retreating figures with a promise of meeting in three hours by The Going Merry.
You look beside you to the stoic man who has his arms crosses and smile.
"so,what should we do?"
Zoro looks around and suddenly he takes your hand and starts walking.
"where are we going?"
"to the bar."
You snort and walk through the doors of a small bar. When you take a sit behind the counter,you stare as Zoro orders two drinks for both of you.
"its not even evening and you're already drinking?"
"the lunch didnt set well with me."
"cause Sanji didnt let you drink."
Zoro only huffs and rolls his eyes before taking a sip of his drink,and upon a taste he downs the whole glass and motions for the bartender to refill it.
"you should really start drinking less." You tell him as you nurse your own glass and taking tiny sips.
Zoro ignores you in favor of drinking his alcohol.
You grin;used to his antics and not taking offense. Zoro is just so easy to tease,that you find yourself always annoying the hell out of him.
You start drinking and looking around the bar;its mainly empty except a small group of marines sitting in the far corner. They're young,and when you look at them,you see one of them is already starting back at you.
In fear of getting recognized and having to fight or run,you immediately turn back and stare down at your drink. And apparently,the guy staring at you takes that as an act of shyness and invitation.
"hey there," and when a smooth voice greets you from your other side,you raise your head and smile nervously at the young Marine man.
Act cool. Please dont notice we're pirates. Smile,and greet him politely.
"hello," you say as you fidget in your sit, "how,uh,how may i help you?"
"for starters,you can help by letting me buy you a drink?"
You raise your drink to show him your half empty glass, "I'm good actually,thanks."
The man grins and rests his hand on the counter, "playing hard to get,huh." Then his hand moves on top of yours;and the action has you swallowing around your dry throat, "then how about dinner? I'll take you to a nice restaurant."
"no really, I'm fine, actually I'm with my-"
"i insist -"
"hey,hotshot," the sound of Zoro's voice has you shivering, "she said she's not interested. So back the fuck off."
The Marine raises to his full height,and his stare hardens, "and who the hell are you?"
Zoro smiles and downs his drink. Before you can even protest,he moves so close to the other guy,and places a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm her boyfriend."
The guy doesnt have time to react before suddenly,in a high speed that gives you whiplash ,slams the head of the marine to the counter.
The sickening sound of bone cracking twists your stomach,but the look on Zoro's face is much more terrifying.
The bar suddenly grows quiet,and when you rush to Zoro's side to grab his hand, suddenly the Marines are running after you two.
Zoro is not a man to runaway from any fights,so he stops to fight ten times harder than the marines. He manages to knock out three more (maybe even killed them?!you didnt stop to check.) Before you grab his hand and particularly yank him toward the exit.
You two run as fast as you can,before ducking in some alley. You peek from the corner of the wall and when see no more Marines in sight,you let out a sigh of relief and turn around toward the very cool Zoro and frown at him.
"was that really necessary? You know we cant get recognized!!"
"do you think i really care about that?" He walks closer, forcing your back to hit the wall behind you "he was hitting on you. He's lucky I didn't kill him."
You only stare at the man in front of you, noting how tense his whole body seems.
You stomach flutters with so much love and adoration for him that has you weak in knees.
So before Zoro can talk more,you pull him down by his collar and press your lips to his.
The kiss becomes heated fairly quick;as Zoro presses you up against the wall even more and this hands wonder around your hips and your own carding through his hair. You dont know how much time has past,not until you have to pull away from lack of oxygen.
He presses his forehead against yours as you both try to regain your normal breathing.
"so," you say as you can breath normally once again, "are you still jealous?"
And from the scowl he wears, you're sure he still is.
So you laugh and pull him down again.
A little reassuring never hurts after all.
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scoutswritingcorner · 13 days
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Deerly Beloved PT.2
Alastor x GN!Deer!Reader
Part 1
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TW:NONE
A/n: Cause some people asked for this. 
-🦌 Starting where I left off last time: Eskimo kisses are the only kisses he will give out in public or in the hotel. It’s just become routine for you both to do it to one another. He’ll bend down, tilt your head up by your chin and just give you little eskimo kisses before he leaves.
-🦌 If he’s actually going to kiss you, it will be behind closed doors and away from private eyes. He can’t get enough of it.
-🦌 He’s very suave. But he’s also equally as awkward. Like he can flirt with you all day but then you flirt back and he’s just standing there eyes wide and confused. 
-🦌 More awkward Alastor? He has trouble reading the room sometimes so he just kinda stands somewhere. (honestly me too bud-)
-🦌 If you have horns he’s either laying his chin on your head between them or trying to balance things on them. Please sit still, this could go on for hours. The last thing he could get on there was a marshmallow. (He cleans your horns for you don’t worry)
-🦌 This man is stuck to you like glue. Like- You could be doing your job around the hotel and he’s hugging you from behind and carrying you around. Charlie has to tell him to let you work. He gets grumpy.
-🦌 Sometimes he just stares off into space and he’s unresponsive for a bit. Prime time to get him back. Hang something on his horns and act like nothing happened when he clocks back into reality. 
-🦌When he gets mad at you for something? He stomps his hooves and walks off. It’s his way of throwing a tantrum without causing too much a scene. 
-🦌 He’s not up to date on modern slang at all so if he gets on your nerves bamboozle the old man with some weird slang and he’ll be confused for an hour or so until someone tells him.
-🦌 Fall asleep somewhere and he’ll sit by or near you to watch over you, he’s usually reading but he makes sure everyone in the room leaves you alone.
-🦌 He loves having you sitting on his lap, it’s solely because he likes comparing your hooves together. Like- you could be asleep and he’d be talking still about your hooves. He doesn’t take offense to you falling asleep while he talks, he’s grateful his voice soothes you.
-🦌 Like anything- he has deer tendencies. Like grooming you, he loves to help brush your hair and fix your clothing. He lets you do the same to him. It helps keep down his more animalistic urges. 
-🦌 I 100% feel like he knows how to braid, wash and help brush any type of hair. Whether it’s curly, wavy, straight, coily, thick, anything. If you ask him, he will help. His Mama taught him well.
-🦌 If you get self conscious of your horns falling out cause it does happen he’ll help in anyway he can. He will make a joke about you missing something though. Be aware.
-🦌 Once again, he loves playing silly little games with you. Like in my last post, a fucked up game of tag where he’s chasing you around the hotel cause he can or play fighting with you cause its fun. His other favorite game of his is hiding your things around the hotel.
-🦌 (Don’t imagine him in a white shirt, suspenders and trousers. Don’t do it gang.)
-🦌 Once again. He will pick you up if you take too long with something and he will be unapologetic. He’s got a busy schedule! (He’s getting restless).
A/n: This turned into me thinking about silly things he does and I’m so sorry. I got way off track..ENJOY!!
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ju1cyfru1t · 4 months
Text
rise! donnie x reader
rottmnt x reader
Shelldon snitches on Donnie for yelling at him 😢
fluff? Idrk, gn reader, romantic (established relationship)
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“DONATELLO HAMATO.”
“Oh sweet Galileo, help me..” Donnie muttered to himself before pushing his goggles up and turning to face you as you came in and stood in the doorway, “Yes, my dearest Y/N?” He smiled nervously.
“Did you yell at him?” You were holding a pouting Shelldon to your chest like he’s a toddler. Well, he basically is.
Donnie gasped and looked between you and his little drone, stammering, “I-…I- ok, yes, I may have. But- but he broke my-“
“No buts! He’s just a baby!” You huffed and patted Shelldon, who gave a fake sniffle and nodded in agreement, on the ‘shell.’
“A baby?! He’s on version 13!” Donnie crossed his arms.
“I don’t care!” You huffed again and turned your back to your boyfriend. “It’s ok, Shelly. He’s so mean to you, isn’t he?” You cooed, gently petting Shelldon’s head.
“So mean, dude.” Shelldon agreed and gave another fake sniffle.
“Oh, puh-lease. Spare me.” Donnie scoffed under his breath. “Y/N, you don’t understand-“
“Now, apologize. What do you say?” You narrowed your eyes and held Shelldon out to him, who glared at his ‘father,’ “Yeah! What do you say?”
Donnie’s jaw dropped as his incredulous gaze flickered between the two of you again, “You’re taking his side?”
“He doesn’t know any better, Donnie.” You hissed, but your gaze softened as you looked back down at the little turtle drone in your arms, “How can you be so cruel to my sweet little baby?” You purred, rubbing your cheek on Shelldon’s head.
“Yeah! How could you, Dee?” Shelldon agreed, nuzzling your cheek.
“Wh-?! I-..you-…” Donnie stammered in disbelief and offense.
“Have you learned NOTHING from Dr.Feelings?! Where is Mikey? MICHELANGELO-“ You turned and walked out, Shelldon making a noise like he was blowing a raspberry at Donnie over your shoulder.
Donnie jumped out of his seat to follow you, “NO, Y/N, please don’t tell Mikey!”
“I’M TELLING HIM”
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ivoovu · 2 months
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*cough*
Mic Tap
A PSA to all König/Krueger writers:
Hello, I‘m Voov, and I‘m a native German.
And let me just clarify that I do not mean any of this in a offensive matter, and that none of these things are 'annoying' or 'bothersome' to me as a German, which I‘m sure other Germans would agree with me. This isn‘t something that‘s making it impossible for us to read blurbs/fics/etc., however I do know that some writers want to write in foreign languages as accurately and realistically as possible, so this is for those. And for everyone else who‘s just interested, of course
🤍🍪
1 - What I often read is "Exemplary Sentence I can‘t think of something right now but it‘s in English, ja?"
We don’t end our sentences with "[…], ja?". Sometimes, yes, fair, sometimes we do so, but it’s on the rarer side in my opinion. Majority of the time we use this at the end of our sentences:
"[…], nicht?" = "[…], no?" (please don‘t use "[…], nein?" for this one)
or:
"[…], nh?" = honestly this one can be used for a lot of things, it can be used for "[…], no?", "[…], don‘t you think so?" or how the Brits use 'innit', like you‘re trying to prove a point.
(Translation for "[…], don‘t you think so?" = "[…], denkst du nicht auch so?")
I understand that when you type in a "[…], ja?" you‘re translating from the words' English equivalent which is "[…], yeah?", but again, it‘s more common to use "[…], nicht?" instead.
If you use a good mix of "[…], ja?", "[…], nicht?" and "[…], nh?" (and any other word you might want to add to the end of your sentence) instead of sticking to one throughout an entire fic, you‘ll make us Germans a bit happier.
🍙⌛️
2- If you‘re using longer sentences, and the sentences are directed at the Reader, you should clarify beforehand if the Reader is masc or fem. Why? Because a lot of words are gendered in German, so the way they’re conjugated tell us the Gender of the Person:
English: "My perfect Partner."
-> Gender neutral, the reader could be a Man, Woman, in between, on the outside, an Alien race, whatever
If you type this into google translate you get: "Mein perfekter Partner."
-> Masculine. It‘s an instant tell that the reader is a dude.
The female version would be: "Meine perfekte Partnerin."
-> Now we know instantly that this is feminine.
There is no gender neutral, German simply isn’t a language that works that way.
Can you write full sentences without using anything gendered, at all? Yes, absolutely, here‘s an example:
English: "Oh God I love you, I don‘t know what I would do without you. You‘re my everything, I‘ll do anything and everything for you."
German: "Oh Gott ich liebe dich, ich weiß nicht was ich ohne dich machen würde. Du bist mein ein und alles, ich würde alles für dich tun."
This is completely gender neutral because while typing I actively made sure to avoid using anything gendered. But I understand that this is a extremely difficult task to do so for those who don’t speak German, so if you can pull it off, you just earned my highest form of respect, but this isn’t something that us Germans expect of you as a Writer, this is just something I wanted to draw your attention to.
🐰🧳
My point is: If you do any of those two, we Germans aren’t crying about it. We won‘t stop reading the fic, we won‘t bitch about it or send you hate-mail.
We just notice it, correct the sentence in our mind, and some of us will type out the correct sentence as a comment.
I sadly don‘t have any websites that can help with the gendered words, and google translate sucks anyways, so I truly don‘t have any type of direction I could point you writers to, sorry :/
But I have said this before and I‘ll say it again, as many times as I have to: I am absolutely willing to help with the German parts, my dm‘s are always open, no I won’t think you’re annoying or abusing anything by asking me to check the German sentences you might‘ve used in your works, no I‘m not saying any of this out of courtesy, no I‘m not lying, no we don’t have to know each other, no you don’t have to deal with chit chat you can immediately hit me up with 'Hey how is this sentence?', yes I am being serious. In doubt, read this paragraph again and again.
🐚🪵
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missmatchablossom · 1 month
Text
summary: a 2am confession between you and your childhood best friend, gojo satoru
a.n.: cursing, a slightly steamy/suggestive kiss scene, little angsty but mostly fluff. This idea randomly popped into my head last night so I hope you enjoy :)
~
“Do you think we’ll work out?” he asked softly, tentatively. Completely uncharacteristic for the confident, forthright person people knew Satoru Gojo to be. 
Your best friend had always been larger than life, so focused on becoming the incredibly powerful sorcerer he is today that he never nurtured any of the lingering hope you kept around that he’d return your feelings. But Gojo was your sun, your moon, your stars - you were content to share the same sky as him. 
But something was changing between the two of you. You saw it in the goodbye hugs that started to last a second longer than they should’ve. You noticed it in sharpness of his eyes anytime anyone else so much as looked in your direction. Felt it in the softness of a smile he only showed to you.
Tonight, that small spark of hope you’d been keeping alight was growing dangerously. You tried your best to smother it, telling yourself you’d been friends for years and he never saw you that way, so why would that suddenly change?
But do people who are just friends slip out at 2am to go stargazing at the top of a hill? Do they lay beside each other on an old blanket, close enough to feel the heat of each other’s skin, but barely far enough that they aren’t touching?
Do they look at each other the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the real wonder to be beheld when just above you, the moon and stars are shining brilliantly?
“We always have. Why would that change?” you replied, turning your head back up to the constellations. Your heartbeat was sickening in your own ears, amplified by the silence left untouched as neither of you spoke.
The blanket shuffled as he sat up, his face barely out of your periphery. You copied his movements, propping yourself up on your elbows as you struggled to understand the look on his face.
“Because I’m in love with you. I’m tired of being friends,” he said calmly, though you the way his hands fisted betrayed his uncertainty. 
You froze for a second, wondering if this entire night had been a dream. Gojo Satoru, your best friend and unrequited love for years, liked you - no, loved you? You had to be dreaming.
A poke against your cheek broke you away from your thoughts.
“Please say something, or I’m gonna freak out,” your best friend said, looking more flustered than you’d ever seen him. His porcelain skin was dusted with pink, his gorgeous eyes frantically searching yours. 
You burst into laughter. The kind that had you gasping for air and wiping tears away.
“What the hell is so funny?” he asked, and your laughter continued to bubble out of you at the adorable furrow between his brows. 
You sat up to face him, wiping away a tear as your laughter died off. 
“Sorry, it’s just hard for me to believe this is happening right now. Especially because I’ve been desperately in love with you since we were kids,” you admitted, indulging yourself in the way his lips parted in shock, the way he looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time.
“You…you’ve been in love with me this whole time?” he said, so quietly it hurt your heart.
“Yup. Pretty much everyone knew too, I thought it was common knowledge?” you joked, leaning your head against your knee as you watched Gojo go through the 8 stages of grief.
“The hell it wasn’t. Why hasn’t anyone said anything to me? Why haven’t you ever said anything to me?” he said, pupils wide as he searched your face.
You leaned back down, crossing your arms behind your head.
“We all assumed you would’ve made a move ages ago if you liked me back. I was content to just be in your life at all - plus, no offense, but I’m like the only solid friend you have in your life. I promised you I always would be, I couldn’t let my own feelings change that.” you said, feeling the weight fly off your chest as you finally told him.
You felt a whoosh of cool air as Gojo leaned down beside you once more, mirroring your position as you laid on your back and looked up at the sky.
“I…I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot,” he said. You let out a laugh in disbelief.
“You really didn’t know, not even the thought crossed your mind?”
“Nope,” he replied, almost sounding anguished.
You turned to your side, propping up your head with the heel of your palm.
“What changed?” you asked genuinely, feeling your nerves traverse throughout your entire body as he mirrored your position, your faces barely a few inches apart.
“I realized it when we had to be apart for a while because of that mission. I was miserable, because I was accustomed to seeing your smile everyday. Hearing the random overdetailed recounting of your day. Your laughter. Fuck, I was even searching perfume stores to see if any of them came close to the way you smell,” he admitted, eliciting a furious blush from your cheeks.
You reached up to brush some of the hair out of his eyes, admiring how his pearlescent locks seemed to glow under the moonlight.
“You have it that bad, huh?” you teased, watching his face relax ever so slightly as he rolled his eyes.
It was so fast you barely registered what happened, the way Gojo flipped you on top of him so you had no choice but to lay flush against him. You were stunned to silence as he wrapped his arms around your waist, catching you off guard with that brilliant, victorious smile of his.
“Oh, I absolutely do. But look who’s talking eh? You are sooo into me,” he said, smiling happily to himself. 
You buried your face into his chest to hide both your embarrassment and your painfully-wide smile. 
“Okay, okay, I am,” you admitted, feeling simultaneously shy and elated as Gojo tugged you even closer to him, burying his face in your hair.
“So, what now?” you asked.
You gasped as Gojo flipped you once more so you were pinned under him.
“Hm, well if I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with me, I think we should kiss,” he said, his smile evident in his words. You’d been around him long enough to hear the tease in his voice, and you knew he was messing with you. 
“Just kidding. We can take it sl-”
His words came to a halt as you lifted up to press your lips against his ever so slightly, pulling back to rest your forehead against his.
“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Fuck taking it slow, kiss me right now,” you all but demanded. You admired his grin for a split second before his lips were moving against yours, full and soft and sweet. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he said breathlessly. 
“Not longer than me,” you said between kisses.
His deep laugh resonated throughout your body, distracting you from the way his slender fingers were digging into your hips.
“You’re right. Let me make it up to you,” he said, pulling back long enough for you to look at him. His eyes were dark with desire, contrasting the flush that somehow made him look hotter.
He sat up, and his absence left you feeling chilled. It didn’t last long though, because he grabbed your hips once more and lifted you on top of him so you were straddled in his lap.
You smiled coyly as he positioned your arms around his neck, tugging you flush against him as he grinned at you proudly.
“You really like throwing me around huh?” you teased, though it came out more soft and gaspy than you intended as he began trailing kisses along your jaw.
“You have no idea,” he said, and you felt him smile against your skin as you tipped your head back to give him more access.
“Forget about sleeping tonight.”
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talaok · 2 months
Note
Hey, I just want to tell you that I like your fanfics so much! and you're truly an amazing writer! Can I please have one shot where the reader asks Pedro to join her on her skin care routine? like it's all so fluffy, and P just keeps looking at her and pecking her lips at the same time. I hope you see this. Thank you so much. We love you, bestie!
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
a/n: thank you so incredibly much love <3, im sorry for the wait, this beautiful request truly deserved better, and of course, i love you too babe❤️
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Pedro had always liked to watch you, you'd learned that quickly.
He liked to watch you when you were doing your make-up, cursing at your products when they didn't do their job right, he liked admiring you while you chose what to wear, that cute pensive frown always on your forehead, he liked seeing you put on lotion and bake those amazing cakes you baked, and finally, he liked watching you do your skincare.
He always prolonged his own routine in the bathroom at night just so he could be present for your little ritual of cleansers and serums and creams whose names he couldn't even pronounce, but today, today something had changed, and he'd decided he didn't want to only watch, 
"You want to try?" your lips pulled into a smile as he nodded, his arms around your torso and his head between your shoulder and neck as he hugged you from behind, admiring your face from the mirror
"wanna see what all the fuss is about" he murmured, kissing your neck "What makes my wife abandon me in bed for twenty minutes every night"
You gasped, laughing as you feigned offense
"I have never abandoned you in bed, you're always here with me"
"mhh" he hummed contemplating, inhaling your scent as he tightened his hug "Whatever you say sweetheart" he murmured with that shit-eating grin plastered on his face "now, where do we start?"
He moved to your side, his gaze attentively examining the products filling the counter as if he knew what any of them did.
"first" you started explaining, picking up your oil cleanser and a detergent "we've gotta wash our face"
"I did already"
You glared at him, disappointed at the fact that even after all this time, he still had learned nothing
"it's not washing your face if it's just with water baby, you need a detergent, here" you handed him the white tub and he only opened and closed his mouth as he accepted the product in his hands.
"You're not gonna use this?" he asked, watching as you squeezed some other product in your hand "is this the cheap one?"
"no" you snorted "I just need to use another cleanser before that one cause I'm wearing make up honey"
"oh" he breathed "of course- I knew that"
You both laughed softly at his obvious lie as he squeezed an ungodly amount of detergent onto his hand just to slap it on his face and started rubbing it in with the same delicacy with which he changed a tire
"baby you're not washing the dishes, you've gotta be gentle" you laughed, watching him open his soapy eyes to look at you
"oh- like... this?" he asked, trying to mimic the gentle massage you were giving your own face
"that's better" you nodded, smiling proudly before taking the residues of your makeup off with a cloth
He rinsed his face and watched you as you did what he'd just done, and finally, finally, you asked him something you had no idea how you'd never asked before
"why do you always look at me?" you said, rinsing the detergent off "I'm not gonna disappear into thin air you know?"
He chuckled, his manly and deep voice bouncing from the bathroom tiles
"Are you?" he asked, taking a step so he was once again, right before you, his fingers moving some hair out of your face and lingering on your cheek
"I look at you, because I don't get to do it enough, because it's all I would spend my days doing" he murmured, droplets of water from your face and his hands falling to the ground as your heart sped up "because you're a work of art sweetheart, and because in everything you do, I see all the reasons I love you"
There it is, the man you married, able to melt you up with just a few words, spoken like they didn't seem picked up off a book, like he wasn't the best man you could have ever wished for, like you didn't love him to goddamn death
You didn't say anything, you never could when he said stuff like that, you only spoke through your eyes, through that invisible bond between you, the words lingering on your tongue
I love you
Before you kissed him, the same feeling, the same message, finding him with it.
"that" you smiled "Is why you're never allowed to make speeches before me ever again" 
God only knew how much you had scolded him for making you look like a fool at your own wedding when he made you and half the guests weep with his vows while yours looked like a child wrote them in comparison.
he chuckled, kissing you again, before you mumbled something about finishing the skincare and he pulled away, a grin from ear to ear on both your faces
he followed all your instructions, first came the exfoliating stuff, then the serum, then the creams,
He watched diligently as you showed him how to execute every step, and then copied you, his hands still moving a bit too roughly on his skin.
the only change he brought to your routine, was the kiss he couldn't help but steal from you after every step he accomplished, a soft and quick one, just because he could, just because he wanted, just because you looked cute as ever, and there was only so much he could do to keep his hands off of you.
And after everything was done, after your skin glowed as you looked at your reflection, his eyes too, focusing only on you as his arms wrapped around you, he decided
"I think I should join you every night"
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