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tonixe · 10 months

Note

🥺I’m begging you write more Jason Dean stuff your so good at writing !!

FRIDAY NIGHT

n.o.t.e.s - Yes, Ngl I still love him, even though he fucking crazy, like baeeee! <3

w.a.r. n. - unprotected sex, smut, p in the v, Jason Dean being so sexyyy, with 3 y's.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g. - Jason Dean x Fem!reader

w.c - 1.1k

It was 9 pm, on a Friday.

You were bored out of your mind, parents was home and your sibling was out at a sleepover. You cocked your head towards your cherry red telephone, "Calling him won't hurt" you whispered to yourself, before grabbing the handset phone from the base. It was even better that nobody was home, you got to use the landline without anyone listening into your call.

You quickly dialed Jason's number, the beeping sounds making you feel unease, but excited. Pulling the phone to your ear, as you played with the core of the phone.

Part of you wanted him to pick up but another part of you wanted him not to, you were to anxiously to really know. You heard the phone, a noise from the line.

He picked up...

"Hello" he said, before you quickly responded to him, "Hey, Jason!" you said, it came out more as a purr than casual. "What do I own to pleasure to you, Y/N" he said smoothly, his voice made you melt, and feel something wet in your lower abdomen.

"I was wondering if you could swing by my house later, and hangout, I'm bored out of my mind" you said, hugging your pillow to your chest, rubbing your legs together.

You hoped he would say yes. Needed his accompany.

"Sure" he said, you buried yourself more in your pillow, "I guess, I see you there" you said, quickly putting your phone down into the base, with a loud 'ding!'

You took a breath, you didn't know you were holding it for so long. Looking at the window with your white curtains.

You heard the doorbell ring, it was 30 mins after you called Jason, you quickly climbed down the stairs, looking in the mirror, before fixing your hair and your nightgown. Wait was it too weird to wear a nightgown, I mean he is your boyfriend, he would mind, right?

You opened the door, to him with a cigarette in his mouth, "Hey" you said before welcoming him into your house, closing the door behind him.

"This is nice place you got" he said before looking at you, "Your acting like you never been here before" you giggled, before leading him into your living room, sitting down, as he joined you.

"Nightgown, how scandalous" he said, looking at your hardened nipples poking out of your light nightgown. After he said that, it made you jolt, as you rubbed your thighs together, before looking away, "I thought you wouldn't mind" you said, "I don't" Jason said, before finishing his cigarette, dusting the burn end on the of the ash tray.

You felt his hand on your thigh, making you jolt from his cold hand. You slowly breathed out, biting your lip.

"Nervous?" Jason teased you, chuckling. As he leaned towards you. "No" you huffed, that was a lie. His hands creeped up towards your thighs, you looked at his hand, flickering toward him and his hand.

"Can I, princess" he whispers in your ear, your back was curved by the arm of the sofa, he was on top of you.

He slowly took off your blue panties off you. Your pussy hitting the cold air, your legs trembling. Jason held up your right leg, before he spread your pussy lips. You moaned out from your lips, the slick getting onto his hand.

"Damn, your wet already" Jason chuckled, "Did you call me just because you were bored or just horny, no parents home too" he muttered.

You put your hands on your face, nervously. "It a yes isn't it" he said, "yes" you muttered out.

"Gosh" he smirk at you, before shoving his fingers down you, making you moan on impact. He thrust his fingers into you. "J-jason" you moaned, putting your hand on his chest.

His finger hitting your G-spot. Making the body tremble, "Ahh" you moaned. He plunged his fingers into you, make you orgasm, liquids dripping off of his fingers, with slick.

Your chest heaving out, putting your head to the side, looking at Jason smug face. "Now that's a record time" he said, licking the juices from his fingers in front you.

You heard him fumbling with his belt, putting the belt around your hand tying it. "Let's remove this" Jason whisper to you, as he strip you of your nightgown, revealing your breast, your nipples getting hard.

You gulped. Jason cupped your breast together, tugging at them. Making you more wet, rubbing your legs together.

Before he stripped himself of his pants, removing his boxers, revealing his big size. Rubbing your legs together anxiously, before Jason pries your legs apart, opening them, laying them onto his shoulder.

"Ready?" he whispers to you, lining up to your pussy. "Yes" you looked away at him, before he plunged himself into you. You moaned out, putting your hand onto your mouth, trying to hide the pleasure you got from this.

His pace was badly slow, like he was trying to make you go crazy. Everytime he thrust, he always purposely avoids your G-spot, you gave him a little glare. You digged your nails in the couch.

"J-jason" you were in tears.

"Hm?" He said, giving you a smug smile.

"Faster" you whispered, "I couldn't hear you, princess" he said.

"Faster, please" you begged him, you clenched onto his cock, making him groaned.

"Since you said please" he said, not even a second later, he thrust into you with more force, making the couch creak.

The sounds of the lewd scene, made you even more wet. Giving him more access to you, he buries he face in your neck, laying love bites on it.

You moaned out from the pleasure, you were getting.

Your back curved over the ledge of the couch, as he rutted againist you. Grunting slipping out of his mouth, "J-jason" you moaned, as you bit your lip, rolling your eyes as he tilted your body, fucking you further.

"What is it princess" he teased, biting your nipple, clenching onto his cock. "I'm close" you whined, putting your legs around his body.

"Good, cum on my dick" he moaned, biting onto your collarbone. You cried out, as he pumped into you more, before you saw white.

Liquid seeped out of cunt, as he thrust further into the area you didn't even know you had. Your body trembled, he thrust into a few more, before pulling out and cumming onto your stomach.

"Fuck" he hissed, your body still trembling, your legs feeling like jelly.

You looked at the mess between your legs, "S-shit I need to clean before my parents come back" you squeaked out before Jason pressed you back on the couch.

"Before you clean it, round two?" he gave you a smug smile.

#☆ ⋆｡˚ ୨ 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔵𝔢 𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔰 ୧ ⋆｡˚#jason dean x y/n #jason dean x reader #jason dean x you #jason dean smut #jason dean heathers #jason dean imagine #jason dean headcanons #jason dean #heathers jason dean #heathers

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gregorovitch-adler · 7 months

Text

Clock

John stifled a yawn with the back of his hand as he checked the time on the classroom clock. Half past twelve. Fifteen more minutes of this dreadful lecture till the afternoon break.

The topic going on in the class was not so hard, besides Year 13 meant you had to cover up most of the topics on your own, anyway. John could not bring himself to listen to the lecture today.

John looked around at the other students instead. To be honest, he was looking for one specific person in that room.

There he was. Sitting in the last row, but paying full attention - staring at the teacher like a hawk. John had been admiring this guy's looks - dense, black curls; sea-green eyes, and those sharp cheekbones - and his intelligence for quite some time.

The name was Sherlock Holmes.

John had not stopped thinking about that bloke ever since he'd guessed some other student's personal life correctly in an attempt to tell them off. Deduction, as he would rather call it.

He had been trying to get to know Sherlock in person and to talk to him properly - instead of just nodding in his direction as a greeting like he used to do, every morning.

John was not sure what he would even talk about. Sherlock seemed so closed off, heading straight to the library during the afternoon break every day. John did not want to make an arse of himself trying to talk to him.

He realised he was staring, so he looked away quickly and pretended to pay attention again.

After a few minutes, the bell rang, followed by the teacher muttering some words to the TA before leaving the class.

The class began to chatter, as everyone slowly made their way to leave.

Suddenly, someone across the room turned around to face Sherlock in the last row. "Hey, Holmes!"

Sherlock looked up from his book at that guy.

"Nobody gives a shit about your Tobacco ash list," he said, and his friends burst out laughing. "Seriously, quit blogging. Your website is embarrassing enough already." Another fit of laughter from his group.

John furrowed his brows and clenched his fist on his left side. Strange that he did not know much about Sherlock, but felt like standing up for him anyway.

"At least I don't have to juggle three girlfriends every single day."

A complete silence erupted among that friend group.

"What's he talking about?" asked a girl from the group to that arse. Probably one of the girlfriends.

He ignored her as he marched his way to the last row to approach Sherlock. "Say that again." The guy slammed his massive fists on the desk.

John turned around and went to that row too.

"I think he was loud and clear the first time," said John as he stood beside Sherlock, staring daggers at the other guy.

"Oh, so the fake genius has got himself a pet!" the bloke exclaimed and walked up close to John, practically towering over him.

John was waiting for one move from the side of that guy. Just one. This would all be over in a minute.

"I haven't," said Sherlock and walked close to the guy, invading his personal space. "Though I would think twice before doing anything I regret if I were you." His low voice had dropped even more to a dangerous tone. "Especially if I were sleeping with one of the teachers for a better score like you are, currently."

This made the guy back off. "You didn't - you can't possibly know that!"

"You didn't even bother changing your perfume," said Sherlock and brushed past that guy, his long legs taking him to the classroom door swiftly. He stopped short in the doorway and turned around to look at John with his eyebrows raised.

John quickly collected his things and left the room; ignoring the other guy and leaving him behind.

Sherlock and John walked out of the class, and John tried to suppress a smile.

"Where are we going?" John asked, trying to match Sherlock's pace.

"I am going to the library."

"I can join you."

"Why?"

"You can tell me about the Tobacco ash."

Sherlock stopped in the tracks to face John properly. John had slowed down as well.

Sherlock gave John an intense look as if trying to look into his soul.

John was physically unable to look away.

"In that case, I expect you to listen to every single thing I have to say. Try to react properly instead of just staring at me." The corner of his heart-shaped mouth quirked up.

John cleared his throat and nodded before looking away for a moment. "Let's go, shall we? We don't have much time."

"Come on, then," said Sherlock, and they began to walk again in the direction of the library.

Not sure why, but John felt as if his day had become at least a hundred times better.

***

Sherlock September Challenge.

Prompt Clock by @onesmallfamily

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @gaylilsherlock @missdeliadili @curlyjohnlock @lookingforlifeoutthere @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @peanitbear .

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock x john #sherlock holmes/john watson #30 days of sherlock september 2023 #prompt: clock #onesmallfamily #fluff #teen! lock au #secondary school au #ficlet #new ficlet #fic writing #sherlockian #sherlock headcanon #protective! john

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seren1tyhaze · 1 year

Text

cookin' get dirty

PAIRING: chef!mark x afab reader (ft. jeno)

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

SUMMARY: everything in your relationship with your talented chef boyfriend mark is great, except for one thing missing in the bedroom (but he's eager to learn this recipe)

WARNINGS: food imagery, explicit smut, brief cigarette smoking, profanity, some fluffy plot bc i'm a plot lover

PLAYLIST: you already know...Golden Hour

ladies just wait for me, good girl I got a really big

problem

—

“AGAIN! This isn’t what I asked for!” came a booming voice, filling the crowded and hot kitchen.

“Yes, chef!” the blonde man standing over the stove replied while carefully monitoring three boiling pots of water. The steam was causing condensation to form on his furrowed brow, pushing damp bangs into his skin.

Another set of hands came up suddenly next to his, grabbing two of the pots and dumping them into a nearby sink.

“Thanks, J,” muttered Mark quietly, eyeing the back of their boss who was now crowding the space of another prep cook. Jeno laughed and shook his head, filling the pots with water again and returning them to the stove top.

“You’ll get this, it’s one of his tests, you know that,” Jeno replied, brushing a hand lightly over the back of Mark’s black jacket. He carefully opened another carton of quail eggs and helped Mark prepare the pots for poaching.

“I have done this hundreds of times at home, I don’t know what it is about being here that makes it different. It’s like I lose all confidence when I enter this kitchen. I know I am ready for sous chef and he knows it too,” Mark spoke in hushed tones, annoyance filling his voice.

He had been working in a popular Korean fusion restaurant in Toronto for nearly a year and still hadn’t managed to impress the head chef enough to move up the chain. He had taken a demotion to take this job, wanting desperately to study the techniques they were known for.

A Michelin star for the restaurant was close, or at least that’s what those “in the know” were muttering behind closed doors, and Mark didn’t want to miss the chance to be more than a prep cook when that happened. Jeno was already working under the pastry chef as a main cook, his white jacket ever the symbol of envy for Mark, despite how happy he was for his friend.

Prep was finished for the dinner reservations and the two men slid out through the loading dock door for a smoke, the chilled air pushing their hair up as they leaned against the brick wall of the building.

“Everything else good, man? You seem tense lately,” Jeno tagged onto the end of a long exhale.

“Yeah, I guess…” Mark trailed off, eyes seemingly getting lost in the hazy night sky. His hand was fidgeting, ashing the cigarette repeatedly with each movement.

“Everything good with your girl?” Jeno tried, eyes narrowing lightly, knowing Mark could have a few different reactions to his prying question.

Mark paused, taking a quick drag off the cigarette in his hand before inhaling deeply into his lungs, flicking the butt to the ground and crushing it under his shoe. He shook his head in reply, moving to the door and gesturing towards it.

That was enough of an answer for Jeno, who merely chuckled and ruffled Mark’s hair as he followed him back to the kitchen. He had known Mark long enough to know when he wanted to talk and when Jeno should just drop it (and probably pressure Jaemin during their next workout into spilling what he knew).

Later that night, as Mark is making you both a late dinner after your long shifts, he stands silently at the stove top in your apartment’s small kitchen. He is watching two perfectly over easy eggs sizzle in the pan, eyes narrow and sleepy despite his mind running a million miles a minute.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Mark Lee?” you ask softly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in a comforting gesture.

“Do I ever disappoint you?” he asks softly, lifting his chin lightly to meet your gaze, pushing the pan off the hot burner and reaching for some fresh green onion he had sliced moments before.

“Disappoint me?” you repeat, concern lacing your words as you carefully push for more context with a tilt of your head.

“Like…I mean…” Mark started, pausing to fluff rice in the rice cooker and season it before moving large spoonfuls into two waiting bowls. He adds an egg to each bowl on top of the steaming rice before topping with a dried spice seasoning from an unmarked jar.

You move to sit at the small corner table in the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for the kimchi container and water pitcher.

Mark sits your dish down in front of you before turning to grab a beer from the fridge, feeling the need for some liquid courage to continue the conversation he knows he needs to initiate.

“Mark, you’re freaking me out,” you reply as you move to mix your rice, never taking your eyes off your boyfriend’s worried face.

He smiles weakly in response, taking his spoon to the yolk in the middle of the egg, shimmering and wet, taunting him. He hovers over the golden center with the wooden utensil, bringing his eyes back up to you.

“Are there things you wish…I was better at?” he asks, tilting his bowl towards you, as if asking about the egg.

“Is this about what happened at work today? You know he’s just an asshole young chef on a power trip that is intimidated by you. You know you know how to make eggs, Mark,” you reply, almost laughing at the absurd question.

He had worked so hard for everything in his career so far but you also knew how much pressure he put on himself.

“Not cooking…like…um, I don’t know, like in bed?” he asks with an uncertain and unreadable tone.

You sigh, dropping your head lightly as realization spreads through your brain. Reaching a hand out, you lightly place it over his free hand, gripping his fingers in a warm embrace.

“Babe, I promise, I am completely happy with everything we do in the bedroom,” you reply, bringing a light smile to your lips, hoping to reassure him.

When you had first met Mark in a loud nightclub at 4:00AM on a random Tuesday, you knew he would either be the perfect match for your own crazy work schedule or a complete fuck boy one night stand. Turns out, his tall, strong jawed friend Jeno who had gone home with your best friend that night was the fuck boy and Mark was a sweetheart looking for his first love. Not that your friend was complaining about her night with Jeno, when she gets tipsy she still talks your ear off about his broad shoulders, small waist, and massive dick.

Everything about falling in love with Mark had been romantic and a whirlwind. You quickly got swept away by his silly ramblings about all the things he loved about you (some true, others exaggerations), bouquets of flowers (despite your pollen allergy), and cheesy hand scribbled notes (that you found in every pocket of every jacket you left in his car). Within a few months you were moving into his far too small apartment, close to the busy street filled with restaurants you had never dreamt of dining at prior to meeting him.

Each date was Mark trying to impress you with good food and drinks, using every connection he had ever made to wine and dine you at chef’s tables and in private back rooms. None of that had mattered to you but you were happy to indulge him in his passions.

Nights with Mark were more sweet than spicy, his vivacious personality that had women fawning over him everywhere you went, seemingly melting away the minute the two of you were alone. You weren’t unhappy by any means, sex with Mark was tender and passionate, but didn’t usually stray beyond what you would consider to be the basics.

The night you had first tried to push past a steamy make out session on his couch, he had blushed deeply and confessed that he didn’t have much experience, hands hovering over your waist nervously. You had reassured him that you didn’t care and that everyone’s journey was different and things were different with every partner anyways.

You gave him (according to him) the “best fucking blow job in the entire galaxy” (sure, buddy) and you had seen stars riding his cock right there in the living room with (regretably) Gordon Ramsey screaming at Master Chef contestants in the background.

What Mark seemed to be asking was about one part of your sex life that was notably missing - him returning the favor from your blow jobs.

It had become clear the first time the situation arose that Mark had never given anyone head before and at the time you had chuckled lightly, kissing him sweetly and moving on without much discussion about it. How were you supposed to tell your otherwise perfect boyfriend that most guys you dated had no clue what they were doing down there, even with coaching? You had fallen into your own patterns and while you hoped eventually to get there again, it didn’t bother you.

“If you’re talking about eating me out, we can always try that again if you want,” you add softly, feeling suddenly silly talking about this at the kitchen table.

Mark blushed deep red, shaking the long hair from his eyes, inadvertently pulling his hand from yours to tuck a stubborn strand behind his ear.

“I just…I know…like…” Mark stammered out his reply, eyes flicking back down to the untouched egg in his bowl, undoubtedly becoming cold with each passing minute.

“What if you don’t…you know…” he added, finally crashing his spoon down into the yolk, the sudden impact spreading it quickly across the sticky rice below. He watched as each grain became drenched in the shimmering liquid, the surface of the dish becoming glazed and inviting.

“What if I don’t come?” you finished for him, following his gaze to the oozing golden egg dripping lazily off the edge of his spoon. “Don’t worry about that - I’ll teach you what to do.”

Mark nodded silently, finally letting himself take a long swill of his beer and start eating. The two of you finished the meal in comfortable silence, finishing up as you usually did by listening to soft music while cleaning the dishes together.

~~~

A few hours later your eyes were becoming heavy as you pulled yourself closer into his bare chest, the soft hum of the tv signifying the end of the show the two of you were trying to catch up on.

You jump slightly when Mark brushes a soft hand over your collarbone, playing with your bra strap exposed by the stretched neckline of the old t-shirt you were wearing.

“Ticklish?” he chuckled, pushing a kiss onto the same spot, tongue darting out briefly to connect with your warm skin.

“Oh we’re teasing tonight, are we?” you asked lightly, pulling his chin up to connect his lips easily with yours. He’s kissing you differently, no doubt as a result of the conversation earlier, and suddenly you are wide awake, arousal pooling in your stomach.

Mark places strong hands on your waist, sliding up the hem of your shirt to grip at the bare skin, sliding you quickly over onto his lap. Your eyes widen mid-kiss as you feel his erection through his gray sweatpants, pushing into your clothed core, only covered by thin cotton sleep shorts.

Dragging his lips down your neck, you can’t help but feel a shift in the way he’s touching you tonight, a surge of eagerness suddenly there that hasn’t always been his style.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he all but purrs in your ear, dragging sharp teeth over your ear lobe as punctuation. His voice sounds strained but he has dropped it down in his register in just the way he knows makes your toes curl.

“Bedroom. Now,” you manage to reply, dragging him by the hand a few steps to the open door and pulling him on top of you on the unmade bed.

It doesn’t take very long until he is grinding his length against your shorts, pulling a hand through the strands of hair splayed across your forehead. Both of you are breathing heavy by this point, the awkward conversation earlier having served as discrete foreplay that then simmered low and slow and pushing you towards a boiling point in this moment.

Your eyes are searching his for the next step, still wanting to respect that he could have changed his mind.

“Let’s do this,” he states very matter of factly, quickly moving to remove your shorts and pushing your long shirt up to bunch up just below your breasts.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, trying to keep a neutral expression on your face to match Mark’s serious stare down he is giving your spread legs. He kneels in between them, reaching a hesitant hand out to stroke your inner thigh, cocking his head to the side as if studying the challenge facing him.

“Think about this like you do when learning how to cook a new dish,” you try, hoping the metaphors bubbling up in your mind will land with the lust-laden man sitting pretty in front of you.

“Going slow is always good and no matter what, I know your tongue is going to make me feel good. It’s kind of like kissing,” you add, running your own tongue over your bottom lip in anticipation.

He simply nods, dropping his head down between your propped up knees, mouth suddenly very close to your exposed center. You can feel his breath across your folds and it makes you shiver as you lift your torso higher, hoping to give yourself a better view.

“Start slow with your finger,” you suggest, pushing your own index finger into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it to gather some saliva before dropping it down, rubbing a few circles to show him what you mean.

Mark is swatting your hand away quickly, mimicking the actions by popping two fingers in his own mouth before dropping them down, pushing them experimentally against your folds, applying the lightest of pressure.

“You can push a little harder,” you suggest, feeling your chest and neck heat up at the contact.

He follows your instructions with ease, pushing slow circles as you feel yourself get more and more aroused.

“That’s good,” you sigh out, letting our head drop back in a moment of relaxation, trying to take a mental picture of this moment. You let him continue in this way, not prompting him to move faster in hopes to edge yourself as long as possible to get the most out of each moment. You’re drinking in the heat that’s radiating off him as he stares intensely at his own fingers moving, eyes flicking up every once and a while yet still avoiding eye contact.

“First course - passing grade,” you say with a wink once you become adjusted to his slow and gentle movements, settling into the warm sensation spreading across your body.

He sits back, smiling slightly, nerves still apparent by the look in his eyes. You pull yourself up, removing your t-shirt in a quick movement, nipples perking up at the sudden exposure to the cool air circulating in the room.

“Now, second course…” you trail off, bringing the same hand he had been using on you to your chest, his hand instinctively cupping your full breast once he made contact with your skin.

You let him massage you briefly before tugging at his chin, running your thumb across his plush lower lip, silently encouraging him to put his mouth on you. He moves himself higher, pushing up on his knees to slide up your torso, dragging his tongue across your navel as and dotting kisses along your abdomen as he finally takes your painfully hard nipple in between his teeth, flicking it expertly with his tongue. You knew he needed no instruction here.

“Don’t stop touching me though,” you breathe out, feeling him push into your throbbing core slightly harder at the sound of your strained voice. You are feeling your breathing pick up and know you can’t possibly hide how much he is affecting you. You shake your head lightly, remembering the task at hand and that you are supposed to be guiding him.

“Now, when you’re ready, go ahead and do that same thing down there,” you speak slowly, trying to regulate your own breathing as you move closer to being overstimulated.

Mark visibly gulps, slowly removing his fingers from you and bringing them up to his lips, slipping his tongue out to dart over them and taste what he had gathered.

Your eyes widen when he does this, surprised at his deviation from your lesson plan (not that you’re complaining). The way he darts his tongue out and flattens it against the tips of his pointer and middle finger to clean them off has you squirming on the sheets.

He smiles at your reaction, clearly proud of himself as he ducks his head down between your legs again, face impossibly close once again. Carefully, as if you were made of glass, he darts his tongue out, pushing impossibly slow and licking a long stripe precisely where his fingers had just been.

You dig your fist into the comforter, balling up a large section to grip onto. Jesus, he was good at this already. Of course he was good at this.

“You can use your lips too, almost as if you’re kissing me,” you speak quietly, trying to clear your throat of the moan bubbling up through your raspy words. He shouldn’t be bringing you this close so soon but the anticipation for this moment has had you horny since he first touched you on the couch.

Mark’s lips on yours feel warm and unbearably sexy, alternating between light kisses and kitten licks as he begins to gather wetness on his mouth.

He experiments by pushing his tongue up higher, clearly knowing he needs to start looking for your clit. You know you’ll have to help him here but are also pleasantly surprised when he gets pretty close on his first try. You bring a gentle hand down to his silky hair, pulling slightly to readjust his position and pull him in a little closer.

You feel like you can hear him smile against you when you do this, but know you must be imagining that he is enjoying being guided and coached by you through this intimate moment. He can’t possibly be wanting to be bossed around by you like this…right? No chance.

When his tongue pushes up against your clit you suck in a sharp inhale, humming out an incoherent statement as he pushes against it again, beginning to make the same small circles you had showed him with your finger.

“That’s it, right there, baby,” you babble, letting your head slam against the pillow beneath it, pushing your hand further into his hair without having to readjust his position this time. You whine out his name to encourage him as your eyes roll back into their sockets, not sure how much longer you can hold on.

You almost tip over the edge when he accidentally drags his teeth across a sensitive spot and you hear a small apology from below and choose to ignore it for the moment and try to tamp down the moan that almost escapes from your lips at the contact. That’s honors level course work and you were too close to go into all that.

Every lap of his tongue sends you closer and closer to the edge and your eyesight has started to become fuzzy as you rapidly approach your orgasm. He’s not making much noise but every once and a while you feel a small whimper or moan vibrate across your pussy, his death grip on your ass giving you some confidence that he is enjoying himself.

Your release hits you with a jolt, every part of your body throbbing as you almost knock Mark in the head as your knees instinctively pull together in ecstasy. He slows his tongue movements and you can hear him gasping for air below you as he is being suffocated by your warmth. You can’t control your screams as you slam a hand over your mouth, feeling only slightly sorry for the neighbors at such a late hour. He keeps lapping at you like he’s starving, your eyes squeezed shut as your mouth hangs open in pleasure.

He finally emerges, hair a mess, lips dripping and chest heaving. He looks filthy and you stare at him with wide eyes, in shock. Without saying a word, he drags a finger across your sensitive core, examining it before sliding his tongue slowly across the tip, pulling it back into his mouth.

“If you don’t get over here and kiss me, I will fail you and you will have to retake this course, chef,” you manage to croak out, lifting a hand weakly towards him with all the energy you could muster. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

“You’re on fire, Lee,” Jeno hissed the next day as he helped Mark plate 12 perfectly poached quail eggs, eyes sparkling wildly as he gripped his shoulder with a strong hand. He bent his head down closer to lower his voice under the dull hum of kitchen noises and chatter.

“What changed? You walked in here today like some cocky god and I heard him talking to the other head chefs just now and it’s looking fucking good for your promotion.”

Mark simply shrugged, a devious grin spreading across his lips as he nudges Jeno’s hand off his shoulder to let him wipe the edge of the plates.

He grabs a long handled spoon and dips it into the dish of hollandaise sauce, dragging his finger slowly across the back of the spoon and darting his tongue out to quickly clean the tip of his finger with a smacking sound, not breaking eye contact with Jeno.

“I guess I just learned how to make eggs.”

~~~

part two ft jeno? anyone? hehe.

#mark lee smut #mark lee fanfic #nct smut #nct fanfic #nct dream smut #golden hour #nct x reader #mark lee x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

WIBTA if I miss my grandfather's funeral because his wife is horrible?

My (F26) grandfather, N (M85), passed away from cancer a few weeks ago. His second wife, J (F79ish), has always been a piece of work, but we worked through our differences in personality and found a happy equilibrium. She also became much better... or so I thought.

She stood by him over the years as his sight deteriorated, his mobility became impaired, he got the cancer diagnosis and went through chemo, and then when chemo didn't work she tended to him as he declined, with the help of my mum (F46ish) (I'm terrible with ages), who effectively stopped working and moved in for a few months to help care for him and keep him company.

I found out mere hours ago that this whole time J has been... bad. Way worse than I ever could have guessed. She's been intensely jealous (and always was pretty textbook narcissistic), to the point where she turned away nurses sent to check up on him and wouldn't let me my mum be in the room with N without her permission. She also withheld pain medication from him when he was really suffering, until my mum secretly contacted the palliative care team asking them to investigate urgently (which they did, thanks to them his last days were comfortable). There's much more, including lying to N about his will and his children, and organising the funeral with her friends instead of people he cared about.

Before this, there was no question in my mind that I would go, even if I don't particularly like J and J's family and friends. Now I'm realising two things. 1) This funeral is not being put on for my benefit, it will be the J show, and we'll be props in her event designed to celebrate N's love for her. 2) The only person who will judge me if I go is me. If I go, it will feel like I'm silently sanctioning and legitimising what she did. But no one except my uncle, aunt, mum and sister, know that. (they won't speak out because they're worried J will drag the will into a protracted battle if they upset her, they want her gone so they can grieve. This is still their funeral too, in that they will be there, together, mourning. I don't want to mourn my grandfather on J's terms, after what she did to him, but... maybe it's selfish to put my morals and feelings before my family.

TL;DR: I found out a few hours ago that my step-grandmother was secretly narcissistically abusive to my dying granddad, so I want to silently protest by boycotting the funeral she organised (mostly for her friends and family) (if I say anything it could jeopardise the will).

WIBTA if I don't go?

Extra info: If I don't go, I'll still meet my close family before the funeral, but then I'll go to my bio-granny's grave to have my own solo ceremony. He wants his ashes to be buried with her anyway, so I know it's a meaningful place for him. Extra info 2: Honestly don't have room for this, but she has bragged many times about SCREAMING at her ex-husband's funeral, because his actual widow wouldn't let her be part of the coffin procession. It is CRAZY, I think she's reminding us now as a threat.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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positiveglitchexists · 5 months

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I was betrayed today /j

Just found out I'm not even married, people hide the flowers AND MARRIAGE CAKE

Well I guess this is good news, @ash-does-theatre is too short anyways /lh

#positive rambles #positive sleepy hours

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autumnmist101 · 7 months

Text

New Life Sick fic

Hello! I'm new to posting here, but wanted to share this story I made towards the beginning of the New Life SMP! If you like it let me know and I may post more!

“Just a little more coal an’ this soup will be ready.” Scott Smajor says as he packs some more coal into his stove. He had spent all morning trying new recipes until a little Good Guy came around and asked him for some soup for Gem. The pour girl had recently come down with an illness since turning into a blaze.

Upon hearing the news Scott had quickly set to work making just about every comfort recipe that he could and now had a decent amount that he could take over to his friend. He just needed this last soup to finish before he could leave.

“An’ done.” He smiles before placing the last of the soup into his lunch pack. He teleports outside and took the way-stone over to Gem’s place where he was met with a giant villain-like tower. Looking past that, he could see Gem’s starter base, one of the walls having been charred.

“Guess she must’ve sneezed.” He chuckles before going up to the door of the new build.

“Knock knock!” He calls, rapping on the door. However much to his surprise a little copper golem Pearl answers.

“Beep boop.”

“Hello Pearl, I came to see how Gem is doin’.” He explains as Pearl let him in.

“Beep boop.” Pearl says again before leading him up the ladder to Gem’s bedroom. There the two find the pour blaze under a mountain of blankets with ashes scattered about and some even overflowing from the bin beside her. The blaze herself looked no better, only little puffs of smoke emitted from her skin rather than embers, her hair was frazzled to no end, and she was shivering violently.

“Beep Boop.” Pearl said for Gem to turn to the two.

“O-oh. Hi Sss-s-Sc-Scott.” The blaze stammers, sitting up as the two came over. He could hear her teeth chattering as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I heard you were sick. Thought you could use some soup and such.”

“Beep Boop!?” Pearl perks up before digging in the lunch pack and grabbing a bowl. She holds it up and dances around making Gem giggle.

“You j-just made a fr-friend f-for life.” She says pulling the blanket closer. Pearl stops her happy dance and frowns.

“Aww, what’s wrong Pearl?”

“Sh-sh-she c-can’t act-tually eat it. Only c-copper.”

“Beep boop.” Pearl frowns before walking back over and offering Gem the soup.

“Gem, have you tried checking your temper’ture?” Scott questions as Gem drinks some of the broth. “If it gets too low you could be in serious danger.”

“We can ma— ahke— Ah Choo!” She sneezed into a tissue for it burst into flames.

“Bless you.” He says with Pearl in her golem talk.

“Thank you.” She says, “But we can actually make thermometers?” She questions for Scott to nod.

“Beep boop beep boop!?” Pearl asks for Scott to tell her the crafting recipe. She then scampers off to make it.

“So, I take it she’s been your little helper for the time bein’?” Scott questions for Gem to smile.

“Yeah, though she used to talk normally until I said she should only talk in beeps. I was joking, of course, but she’s committed to the b-bit.” Gem says before shivering again and taking another soup from the pack. “S-so how’ve y-you been Sss-Sc-Scott?”

“Oh, fairly well. Though I got lost in the nether the other day. Apparently, my teleportation isn’t interdimensional, though I did find some stuff while there.”

“Ooh like wha-ah-ah choo!”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks.” She sniffs, “What stuff did you find?”

“I found some gold, a strider spawner, a fortress, some dressers, and an abandoned city. Honestly though, the city had already been kind of raided.”

“It may have been the one Fwhip found. I know he got a lot of stuff. He also said he put down a way-stone.” Gem says setting the bowl aside.

“I thought about making one but didn’t know if they were interdimensional.”

“I think so, but I’m not testing it.” She sneezes again, “My days in the nether are over.”

“Aw you mean you don’t want to move there? It is warmer than it is here.”

“I’m sure. Too many awful mobs live there.”

“I think Sparrow would say the same thin’.” Scott chuckles, “Sausage says he met him right after he came out.”

“How is Sparrow? I haven’t seen him since I was a swarm.”

“He’s good. Still a human but he’s working on a mechanism that could give him powers.”

“Give him powers? What? Is he making a blender that’ll mix him and something else?”

“Mm hm. Sausage told him that he just had to die, but he’s not too keen about that idea, since he’s only a human. Though I think Martyn mentioned that—”

Thickth

“Gem?”

Thickth

“Uh- uh oh.”

Thickth

“Gem your freezing!” He shoots up to find a flint and steal. Scrambling to every chest and barrel he could see.

Thickth

“F-fire!”

Thickth

“Pearl!” Scott calls scrambling to a cabinet by the window. He glances out. Spotting a lava pool.

He runs back to Gem. Scooping her up and teleporting outside. He throws her into the pit, taking some fire damage due to the splash.

“Sc- Scott!” He hears her sputter. He looks back to see she had gotten her color back with the embers beginning to emit from her skin again.

“It worked! Your saved!” He cheers as she glares up at him from the pool.

“Yeah, but next time give a girl a warning. I could’ve drowned.” She chuckles wiping some lava off her forehead.

“There you two are! Good gracious! I thought you had died!” The two hear Pearl say. She walks over, the newly made thermometer in hand, and sees Gem in the pit.

“How’s that working for you?” She asks dropping the thermometer onto the stone ledge around the pit.

“Fairly well actually.” Gem states, “What took you so long?”

“Your chest monster. Honestly Gem, it’s a nightmare!” Pearl sighs, “Anyway how’s your temperature?”

“It’s still kind of low but better than what it was.” She pauses, grabbing some of the lava in a bucket before climbing out. As the three head back to her base, passing the way-stone on the way, Gem thanks Scott for saving her and for bringing over the soup.

“Don’t mention it," Scott says, stepping up to the way stone. He chuckles, "you just take care of yourself and don’t burn down the forest.”

#new life smp #scott smajor #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #oneshot

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heidiamalia · 11 days

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2 + 17 for the fic ask meme :)

okay so for some reason as tumblr does i guess i just never got notified you sent me something for this AHH

okay here goes -

2/ a fic you’ve re-read several times

oooooh gosh gotta run it back to my og's like an honorable mention because this one was one of those core memories, but beyond this point the series itself is just ash in my mouth.

the fallout by everythursday

Hermione learns about growing up through the redemption of Draco Malfoy.

i was lucky to download it when we still had access to the sacred texts [rip H&V] - but i'm sure ao3's got some orphan account with the numbers out there if ever the interest arose.

313k of war and smut and figuring shit out and it absolutely changed my life.

as a bonus to this question because now i feel bad its not a solid rec -

His Name is Stede - mercess [@spaceshipkat]

Ed never planned to see Stede Bonnet again, but after he learns Stede has been captured and is on his way to a short drop and a sudden stop, Ed declares no one gets to kill Stede but Ed himself. If that doesn't go as planned, well, Stede is far more wily than many give him credit for.

Or perhaps Ed is just a lying liar who lies.

-----

Ed’s breath caught, like a fist closing around his throat, at the sight of Stede there in the brig, wringing his hands and squinting through the shadows. He looked tired and weak, more like the sickly version of himself Ed had first met after he was cut free of the noose aboard the Spanish ship.

Most unfairly of all, he was still the most beautiful man Ed had ever seen.

if ever at all i can convince a person to witness [or endure, i know who you are, no pressure] this show, this would be the fic to have you be like whoah, okay, maybe. a post-s1 where i gasped when appropriate and shouted when i probably shouldnt have [3am rereads, i mean, yeah.] - reading this one with my heart in my hands gained me a deeply wonderful new friend along with it.

17/ a fic you wish you could read again for the first time

ughhhhh kastle fanfic writers are no fucking J O K E. we knew this.

what is left but a broken man - idekman

He's surprised by the amount of flowers at her grave.

He shouldn't be, really. Although Karen didn't have friends - or at least, not many. Murdock. Nelson. Ellison. And he was her boss before anything else.

He'd thought they'd been friends, too.

I kissed her, he thinks, a little desperately. It had just been on the cheek but he had hesitated, stayed there for a moment with that heat and that floral warmth that somehow radiated from her even in the chill air, and that had meant something. He thought it had. He had thought that, perhaps, she understood – understood that he couldn’t give her everything he wanted to, that he wasn’t ready, but that maybe some day he could be. That if he could ever have an after, he would have –

The thought is too painful to finish.

Karen Page is dead. Frank goes looking for her anyway.

i went into this one feeling like my heart was gonna be broken the whole fucking time but fuuuuuuck.

being able to walk with frank as we saw him discover karen in georgetown, in fagan corners, in his HEART! oh gosh i remember hitting this link and d e v o u r i n g this deep, sharp claw in to my chest with a grateful feeling.

ask me about the fic rec meme!

#heidi answers #it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined #ask games #fic recs #dramione #our flag means death #kastle

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monstersinthecosmos · 7 months

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September 21, 1973

The boy clicks on a lamp, and Daniel’s eyes throb in pain as they adjust. First thing he’s seen in… he’s not sure how long. But it’s a little desk lamp, with an orange plastic shade, glowing gently in the center of the room.

Daniel hadn’t heard anyone else come in. And he wonders, in all the loops he did in the darkness, how he hadn’t noticed the table here. But he sees everything now; the damp bricks and dirty floor, the sealed window.

“If you wanna come have a seat,” the boy says. He slides a microphone to the other side of the table. “That way it will pick up your voice.”

“My voice,” Daniel says. His throat hurts. It rasps out of him. He’s sick down here. Been screaming too much. For, how long now? All he’s done is scream.

“Don’t worry,” he says. He’s smiling, so warm. Bright and sweet. “I know it can feel weird the first time. I’ll warm you up though. You wanna come sit?”

Daniel recognizes this boy, but doesn’t. And it feels unsafe, because he’s been down here for—days? Weeks? Years?—and nothing is safe anymore. But it’s the first face he’s seen, and he wants to cry.

Legs are weak as he stands, but it’s only a few feet to the table. It’s so smooth and cold under his hands as he sits, and he stares at it. It looks like the one from his kitchen growing up. Yellow formica with a shiny silver frame.

“So where are you from?” the boy asks. He leans back in his seat as he lights a cigarette, then slides the lighter and pack over to Daniel. So relaxed as he takes the drag, as he blows the smoke out the corner of his mouth, away from the microphone.

“Um. Connecticut,” Daniel mumbles. His stomach growls as he lights up; not a great substitute for food, but he hasn’t smoked in so long, either. For a moment he’s flooded with complete ecstasy as it hits his bloodstream, as it fills his brain. The first time since he’s been here that he isn’t in pain.

“Your folks both around? What was the family unit like?”

Did Daniel really interview people like this? The boy nudges an ashtray towards him. Daniel’s mom had this same one, too, for the kitchen. On the same yellow table. It’s sea-green and shaped like a conch. He narrows his eyes as he ashes into it, wondering what this kid is trying to pull on him.

“Yeah, they were around. They’re normal, I guess.”

“Siblings?”

“Just me. My cousin was around a lot, though. They lived nearby.”

“Tell me about your cousin.”

Daniel glances at the microphone and can’t remember how he got here, why he’s being interviewed. Maybe about how he was abducted one time and lived in a black room. Or maybe he saw behind the curtain and knew there were secrets in the universe, that the cosmos crawls with monsters.

“I dunno. She’s cool. Her name’s Alice. She’s older than me so she used to babysit a lot. But she’d take me to movies and stuff. She didn’t treat me like a little kid.”

“Does Alice know where you are?”

Daniel swallows. He’s so fucking thirsty. His lips are so chapped.

“Do you?”

And the boy is so radiant. The picture of health. Mouth quirking into a grin like Daniel made a joke.

“Do I what?”

“Do… you know. Where I am.”

He shrugs. He lifts a finger to gesture for silence, and stops the tape to flip it over. The click of the buttons is so fucking loud in this damp room. So loud that Daniel flinches. And the sound of the cassette sliding into the deck makes him think of the teeth penetrating him. The wound burns, the pain glowing outward, down over his collar bone, tingling in his arm.

Daniel’s heart races, the way it had when Louis grabbed him. The way it had when he saw Armand in that doorway.

“Do you think this is what happens when you die?” the kid asks. “That’s really what I wanted to ask you about.”

“When I die?”

“Is it just a cold dark room, just like this? Maybe it’s just nothing. Maybe it’s barren and full of rot. And completely black. And you just spend eternity like this, in the nothingness, and you never feel pleasure again, just the hunger, just the smell of your own piss, just the pain.”

“I don’t believe in stuff like that,” Daniel grumbles. He reaches for another cigarette.

“Are you gonna tell me how your mom could only get you to go to church twice a year? Dragging you to midnight mass?”

“How do you know that?”

“Does this room make you wish you’d gone more? Maybe death won’t be like this for her. She put the time in. She played the game.”

“I don’t believe in that!” he snaps.

Throat hurts. The smoke doesn’t help, but he feels a little calmer as he breathes it in.

“Do you even know if you’re alive?”

The boy’s eyebrow raises. He brushes a strand of hair to the side. Leans his chin into the palm of his hand as he waits for the answer.

Daniel thinks he might start screaming again.

It comes and goes, down here, in the blackness. The screaming. Each time he thinks he won’t be able to stop. And he doesn’t remember stopping. Doesn’t remember anything, just comes in and out, and it’s completely black, floating here in nothing.

Am I fucking alive, he asks.

Too hungry to think of a snarky retort. Too tired. And as the question lingers between them he realizes he doesn’t have an answer.

[previous day] | [next day]

#vamptember #vamptember 1973 #daniel molloy #vampire chronicles #stuff i wrote

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webslingingslasher · 6 months

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Oh my god. J. Speaking of diwali, I have to fill you in😭.

I need to give some background. Im half white (moms side) and half Indian (dads side). Me and my sister mainly lived with our dad growing up and our parents were never in love or anything so they never spent time with each others families yk.

My mom is white white. Like her name is LEIGH ANN and my sister is named Ashlynn😭.

Anyways, my mom is kinda insane but she’s in her new “changed woman” era so she decided she was gonna host Diwali celebrations for our family😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 JDJDJDJDJDSJ

J SHE ORDERED FUCKING PAPRIKA AND SPRINKLED IT ON A CAKE😭😭😭😭 and she turned off all the lights because she took the “celebration of light” too seriously and said the only light we need is inside us😭😭😭 Ash broke a vase. It was a nightmare.

I was so embarrassed but I also couldn’t stop fuckimg laughing. Ya Allah why is she like this😭😭😭😭. Nobody was in a bad mood or offended or anything, it was actually one of the best days because it was HILARIOUS and we all have a good sense of humour, but I can’t 😭😭😭😭

Paprika on a cake man😭 anyways

PAPRIKA ON A CAKE 😭😭😭😭 no cause why would she do that 😭😭😭 you know what, she tried so that's something i guess😭😭😭

anyways, happy diwali!!!

#thanks anon!

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nsmhrniki · 2 years

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✰ omegle, the dark web 2.0！,,

WARNINGS: omegle, nothing too explicit but i mightve described omegle a bit too dramatically scary 😭, curse words

PAIRING/S: clyde, tolkien, kenny x reader [ platonic // romantic ]

GENRE: crack

PRONOUNS: gender neutral

REQUESTED: yes // no

" just finished hopping on omegle... umm .. never again!! 🤗 clyde, tolkien, and kenny, seperately and platonic, going on omegle w/ reader to make me feel better bc i didnt have anyone else when i did that.. "

– anon

A/N: oh my gosh i'm so sorry,,get well soon 🙁 /hj i took some omegle videos off of tiktok for this because they were funny ash

donovan, clyde ✰ !

first of all clyde turned down your offer immediately. he didnt think about it, immediate NO.

he was like "no dude. 😧 do yk what type of stuff goes around in that website???"

"yeah? so?" "SO??!"

"what are you a pussy 🤨 its totally ok ill go get your blankie if we see something absolutely atrocious 🥺🥺"

"..."

and now infront of you both is your laptop and omegle on your screen.

"dont worry dude, im sure nothing will happen"

very very very wrong 😂...🙂

but aside from the... toe curling, gruesome, eye bleeding, earth shattering, blood curdling, spine chilling things you've seen on your laptop. some people were nice

you two however did not reciprocate the energy, you two outwardly BULLIED the people😨

who could blame you two? 🥺 its how you cope /j

oh yeah clyde cried maybe once or twice,, or 6 times

black, tolkien ✰ !

"no." "b-" "NO.!!"

"do you want to be traumatized for the rest of your life??" "tolkien i'm sure it's not that bad.."

you eventually got him to give in though!!! unfortunately...

worst mistake ever and tolkien almost left your ass to deal with this yourself

however, fortunately for you, he's a good friend!!

he only stayed because things were getting funny LMAOAO

"you look like bella hadid! on the left 🙂"

"me?" the person on the fucking left asks 😭

"nnnot you... the one on the le-" they click skip "ohh- 🙁"

"i said the one on the left!!! 🙁 why did she try to take credit UH UN"

🍊 ⊹ mccormick, kenny ..,

said yes immediately LMAOOO

said live your life to the fullest i guess 🤷‍♀️

said that you two are living on the edge! 😋 however!!! you wanna go back to the middle 😍!

because the FIRST thing that comes up is a lady doing..... showing....... and you didnt like it, kenny sure did though 🙂

whats worse is that it went on for more than one minute like press the fucking button plz,,

after a few skips you two came across an 11 yr old holding up her crusty white dog

"oh no sweetie 🙁 im so sorry"

🙁??? was the little girls face LMAOAO

"theres no need to deny it, we all know you have the perfect family but theres a deep deep dark secret and somebody's cheating!! on somebody in the house!!" *frantically nods head*

the two of you skipped her without another word and went on completely gaslighting everyone

Reblogs are appreciated !

#south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #clyde donovan x reader #tolkien black x reader #nsmhrniki ;; south park #nsmhrniki

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mehidktbh · 2 years

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(Old) Ash Williams sleeping headcanons

Pairing: (Old) Ash Williams x Fem!Reader

Warning: Established relationship and fluff

A/N: I couldn't stop thinking about sleeping in the same bed with Ash so... Also Not proof read

(❤️❤️❤️)

- He is the one that will 100% still the blankets off you and then blame you instead, no matter if it's freezing cold or scorching hot he will steal them. Sorry, not sorry.

- But then again Ash can also be the most perfect snuggler, he latches onto you the whole night and is not the type of guy to roll over and turn his back to you. His arms are around you the whole night and it's just the right amount of pressure on you, so he's not squeezing you too tightly.

- Ash doesn't have a preference for being the little spoon or the big spoon, he can do both and he wouldn't care. If you're into him being the big spoon he's totally on board with that, but still every now and again he would love to have you cuddle him instead.

- And you can't tell me that now that he's older and still getting older he doesn't snore, maybe he tries his best not to but he can't help it. And not to mention how annoying it is, you'd tell him to shut up for a second and he'd apologise but the second he plants his head on the pillow he's back to snoring. (You may need to suffocate him tbh/j)

- I can only imagine he likes to sleep naked sometimes, (With underwear not not?) he'd come home all tired and sweaty and either sleeps in his day clothes or just takes it all off and falls asleep.

- But not to worry he's all sweet in the morning and affectionate as he mostly cooks you breakfast in the morning so you know it's all worth it in the end. Breakfast in bed as you guys just relax together being all mushy and cute, I MEAN WHO DOESN'T WANT MORNING KISSES FROM HIM!

- This is only between you and me but we all know Ash would die to just fall asleep in your arms, even better if you're massaging his scalp. He's knocked out in seconds and doesn't wake up when your nagging for him to get off you, you've killed him.

- But when you guys both can't sleep and all you can do is just stare at the ceiling he's the one to have late-night conversations with, he's there for you and ready to hear anything you have to say. Even if it's so weird and not to mention he'll gladly lighten the mood with one of his stories, I bet he has thousands.

- Overall Ash is your guy to sleep with and sometimes he'll find himself with you not next to him and instead your sleeping on the other side of the room. I guess he does need to work on that snoring of his.

#slashers #slasher #horror #ash williams x y/n #ash williams x you #ashley j williams #ash vs evil dead #ash williams x reader #ash williams #ashy slashy #bruce campbell #ash williams x s/o #evil dead 2 #evil dead ii #the evil dead #evil dead

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enteringdullsville · 9 months

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So against my better judgement, I made a seventh wave of characters.

Daniel, the Cardinal Drewman

Serena’s big brother; they have a whole Dipper and Mabel thing going on

The unofficial leader of his little section of ICT, but he still answers to Violet

Usually pretty chill, kind of a slacker, but forces himself to act responsibly for Serena’s sake

Visually inspired by Scott Pilgrim (more obvious with his default expression)

Very emotional; surprisingly easy to convince to do anything (I broke my alphabetical order there)

Has it bad for Fern. Doesn’t even bother denying it at this point

Astonishingly good at puzzles and problem solving when his mind is in the right place

Serena, the Canary Drewman

Daniel’s little sister, but you could’ve probably guessed that

Think Kitty from The Ridonculous Race

Daniel’s main reason for getting up in the morning

Naturally curious. An amateur sleuth (read: professional busybody)

Lover of animals. Bonds with Cedric over this

Deliberately plays up her childish attitude to piss off Danny

Tries to set Daniel up with Fern upon realizing he’s madly in love with her. Starting to regret this choice

Damon, the Denim Drewman

Danny’s buddy

A mischievous, lackadaisical “bad boy” type. Immediately clashes with Lloyd, who thinks he’s a poser.

Definitely channeling Marshall Lee in his design and mannerisms

A lot more malicious in his jokes to differentiate him from Noah from a few seasons back

Nowhere near as confident as he’d like you to think

One of very few characters to have a car

Despite his obsession with keeping up his reputation, he can’t bear to keep up his “arrogant douche” act in front of the others

Wade, the Sea Green Drewman

Big fun personified

Not stupid, but highly uncoordinated and spacey

Basically just Total Drama’s Owen

Deceptively acrobatic. Used to take water aerobics

Learned to fish at a very young age. Can only cook seafood

Always seems to attract the lunatics; Bobbie, Geneva, Kirby, Mark, etc. adore him

No relation to Izumi (seafoam), Shawn (ocean blue), Walter (aqua), or Marina (aquamarine) despite their similar color themes.

Judy, the Raspberry Drewman

The trickiest one

Generally benevolent, but a master at deception and manipulation

Ms. Chalice in Numbuh Five’s body

Her eyes are her only tell, so she covers them completely

Makes sure to steer clear of resident aura reader Lyman

Very little of what she says isn’t wrapped in a layer of irony

Each of those dreadlocks are so tightly packed they can dislocate bones

Ash, the Ash Gray Drewman

Chill and introverted

Music flows through those veins

Stoned? Who knows

Some random he/they ICT picked off the street

Vaguely inspired by Monster Prom’s Sawyer

Gentle giant

Functions on the exact same wavelength as the likes of J. and Geneva despite being far calmer

Fern, the Fern Green Drewman

On the border between goth and hippie

Simply along for the ride. Everything’s just for her own amusement

Seems nice but increasingly turns out to be as conniving and rascally as Judy is. Tends to come off as a lot meaner than she wants to

Fully knows Daniel has a crush on her. She genuinely likes him, she just wants to see how many times he can make a fool of himself

The latest in a long line of potential lovers Serena tried to set Daniel up with, but she resents Fern for playing with his emotions. That said, she and her are more alike than they’d like to admit

Trixie, normally a bigger prankster than Fern herself, is terrified of her for reasons she refuses to get into

Genuinely friends with Mable despite what everything would suggest. After all, Fern doesn’t derive enjoyment from physical suffering

Mable, the Maple Brown Drewman

A massive klutz. She blames her disproportionately long legs

She has dozens of those bear hoodies

Covered in bandaids under her hoodie

Major Finberly vibes

Way too eager to help a friend out. Given her bumbling nature, it never goes well

Needless to say, she’s the season’s pain magnet

Absolute moron. I love her

Nestor and Gene, the Eggshell/Eggplant Drewmans

NEEEERDS

The two are inseparable. They’re collectively known as the Eggheads

Nestor’s the geekier, more pop cultured of the two and is a master of terrible puns. Gene’s more book smart and acerbic.

Don’s reading buddies

Seriously, just get together already

They collect fancy novelty neckties

Quite vindictive when they feel they’ve been wronged

Hazel, the Hazel Drewman

A sorceress in training

The only non-animal Drewman with a nose

Specializes in restoration and nature magic

Her powers are fairy based. She suitably has a whimsical personality to go with it

Idolizes Rodney, a stage magician, despite her knowing actual magic

Nary a thought between those nonexistent ears

Shares Brody’s merrily bloodthirsty demeanor, but in the opposite direction

Celeste, the Celeste Drewman

Athletic, tough, and commandeering

Kind of a bully. While she’s definitely strong enough to make her case, very few people take her all that seriously

Immediately clashes with Buffy and Cameron, thinking they’re ripping off her style

Goal oriented, but not to a detrimental extent

Deliberately affects her more aggressive persona because she feels that’s how you get by in life

She doesn’t bother acting mean towards people she doesn’t regard as a threat

Wouldn’t be working for ICT if she didn’t need to

Ginger, the Ginger Drewman

Her hair actually is on fire 24/7. It’s just that nobody cares

Bobbie’s evil counterpart. While Bobbie’s just hyperactive and vicious, Ginger causes destruction for the heck of it. The two naturally get along swimmingly

Disturbingly cunning and calculating

Her energy levels aren’t all that high. She’s pretty calm and personable if you catch her in the afternoon

My sister says her eyebrows and cap look like a duck together and it’s REALLY THROWING ME OFF

Will make you die if you make a “soulless ginger” joke in her vicinity

She likes higher positions, namely atop other people’s shoulders

Alphonso, the Mango Drewman

Lovable quarterback

Has an underserved reputation for idiocy due to his sunny disposition

Ridiculously wholesome and encouraging, but not in a sickening way

Could gouge one’s eyes out with a well placed slap to the jaw were he a lesser being and gave into his rage

He’s not faking it. He’s just that infectiously happy

He usually respects people’s negative emotions. The issues usually derive from his…odd thought processes

His yellow eyes twist everything he sees into a sunshiny equivalent

Muffet, the Blueberry Drewman

The Eeyore

Her sullen face doesn’t always indicate depression or sadness, but she can unintentionally bring down the mood with her presence

She is rather quick to break into tears, though

Likes to be alone with her thoughts

Has a surprising flair for the dramatic

Really into flowers and gardening in her down time

It actually doesn’t take much to make her smile. That’s just her resting face

Peter, the Pewter Drewman

A squeaky clean neat freak

Polite, but doesn’t mince his words

Not great at detecting sarcasm

Loud and dramatic about relatively mundane things

Seems like one of the saner cast mates, but he’s actually very openly unhinged

That being said, he’s probably the best at avoiding actual trouble

The Von Nillions all owe him obscene amounts in damages. He’s uncharacteristically cool about it

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