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hazenllas · 2 months

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Mommy's Girl

pairing: Regina George x fem!reader

Contains: smut, Eating out (r! Receiving) Dom! Regina, Regina being mean but it's like hot, fluff, Jealous Regina, I think that's all!

Apologies for any spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language.

Summery: nobody knows you and Regina are in a relationship. But when Regina sees someone trying to hit on you, she shows everyone who you belong to.

"Fuck baby, I missed you so much." Regina mumbles against your soft lips. "Mhm, I missed you more." You kiss Regina's lips hungrily. She grabs at your hips and you grind yourself against her. She puts her hands up your black oversized hoodie. You moan at the cold sensation of her fingertips against your breasts. Your head thuds against the wooden door feeling Regina's manicured hands massage your tits in a messy rhythm. You grab her face and kiss her with passionate and lust. "Hey we will pick this up later m'kay? If not I won't be able to keep my hands off of you." Regina kisses your neck and you thank the dim light of the janitor's closet because your face reddened with a soft pink tint. You nod with a bright smile and tumble out of the small room and readjust your sweater Regina had been messing with just earlier. At lunch you go to your usual spot where Janis and Damian were sitting. You sat down and vegan eating your salad. You look over at Regina's table to see her already staring at you with a smirk. She winks and turns back to her friends sitting with her. "So what's with you and Regina, Y/n" Janis asks playing with her fries. "W-what? What do you mean?" You shoot up at the girl infront of you with widened eyes. "I mean you're both always looking at eachother like you want to fuck eachother's brains off in a good way" You look at her and take a deep breath. "Listen you guys. I've been keeping this a secret for the longest time but, me and Regina are like together. We've been together for a few months but she doesn't feel ready to announce it publicly yet." You say holding your hands in a fingers crossed motion. "No way girl! How come you never told us?" Damian looks at you with the widest eyes you've ever seen. "I dunno, I guess I didn't want to risk anything." You shrug and continue to eat your salad. After school you quickly head to Regina's house. You knock on the door and find Regina on the other side. "Come on in baby, my parents aren't home yet." You nod and you both run towards her room like little girls. Once you both get in there Regina slams you against the door and you gasp in surprise. "Missed me that bad huh?" You jokingly say as Regina starts to leave bitemarks on your neck. "Oh shut up loser." Regina laughs and takes your baggy clothing off. She throws you on the bed and towers over you. "Fuck I miss this body baby." Regina kisses your body as she goes lower and lower to where you want her the most. "Please mommy." You groan and Regina smirks at you. She starts to kiss at your plush tight and looks up at you fit consent. You quickly nod and Regina wastes no time to lick a long strip through your pussy. Your body arches back and you hear Regina chuckle darkly. She continues to eat you out until you start to feel that familiar knot in your stomach. "Fuck mommy, I'm gonna cum" You manage to squeal out. "Fucking cum for me baby." As soon as Regina says these words you completely snap and ride out your high. Regina cleans you up and lays beside you. Regina gets a phone call and she quickly picks it up. You look up at Regina and then after she's talking on the phone she looks down at you. "I'm sorry baby, Gretchen, Karen, and Cady want to hang out this afternoon. I'm sorry." You quickly get your cloths on and look at her with a smile. "It's okay Gina,I have a ton of stuff to study tonight anyways." Regina nods and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

After getting home you decide to call one of your friends Bea to study with. To your surprise, she is throwing a party and asked you to come. You agreed and began getting ready. Once you got there you saw many drunk teens scattering the place. You settle in the kitchen and stare at your sprite. That is until a random girl who you don't know walks up to you. "Hey sweetheart, you with anyone?" You look up at her and shake your head. "Uh no actually. I was just invited here." You stand there awkwardly. You could tell she was drunk. She looked at you with hungry eyes and leans in to kiss you. Until she is shoved away by Regina. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Regina stands over the girl with fire in her eyes. "Shit uh Regina! This is uh this is my girlfriend!" You look at the girl who's on the ground with wide eyes. "Oh really? Let's see about that." Regina smirks and pulls you into a heavy kiss. You moan as you feel Regina put her hands over the space just above your ass. The girl on the ground looks at you both with scared eyes and runs off. Regina pulls away and laughs. You can't help but laugh with her. "Her fault, she should've known who you belong to." Regina pulls you in for one more kiss until she leads you into an empty bedroom.

#regina george renee rapp #regina george x reader #regina george smut #regina george x you #regina george #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #mean girls 2024

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humanbug · 1 year

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Band!Reader x Fan!Ellie Pt. 2

part 2!!! the request that inspired this fic was literally incredible. part 2 was just as much fun to write as part 1 sooo enjoy!!! also for the mood-board i looked for literally so long and chose the middle and bottom right as ellie hehe

comments and reblogs are super duper appreciated!!! love yall

Part 1

| NSFW 18+ MDNI |

warning(s): SMUT, allusion to smoking, oral!Ellie receiving, gay sex lol

More music that inspired me while writing ♬♪♫ ヾ(��。・)ﾉ ♬♪♫

Take On Me – 2017 Acoustic by A-ha Lonesome & Mad by Under The Rug and Ariel Posen Campus by Vampire Weekend I Don’t Wanna Be Funny Anymore by Lucy Dacus

The sun shines through the smoke floating through the air in the room as the gentle strumming of Ellie’s guitar fills the space. Rolling your head to the right you look up at her from your slouched position on the couch. A slow version of Take On Me by A-ha floats from the smooth instrument laid across her lap. The sound of suitcase wheels causes your hooded eyes to drift across the living room. Bea rolls her suitcase to the front door, dropping her duffle bag next to it. Her eyes meet yours and an amused smirk falls across her face.

“You all packed?”, she asks, leaning on one hip and crossing her arms. Bea has always been the mom of your group, making sure everyone was safe and counted for.

“Pssh, yeah! I am basically packed. I just…have to dump my clothes out of my hamper…and put them in my suitcase. Pretty much fully packed.”, you say with a lopsided grin. Oliver laughs at you from the kitchen and Bea rolls her eyes at your sarcasm, walking off while shaking her head.

Ellie’s chuckle makes your eyes drift over to her, “And what are you laughing at?”, you say with crossed arms and a dramatic scowl. Leaning her guitar against the coffee table she sits up, arms leaning on her spread legs. Her head tilts over her left shoulder, looking at you with red-rimmed green eyes, “C’mon. Let’s get you packed.”

“You’re not packed yet!? Bitch! We leave at like four in the fucking morning!”, Luna shouts as she rolls her two suitcases through the apartment door. Mumbling an ‘oh my fucking god’ you dramatically drop your head against the couch, “I’ll be packed in like five minutes! Everybody calm down.”

Chuckling at your pouting, Ellie stands to face you, grabbing your hands to pull your body off the couch. Huffing a breath you stand and drag your feet to your room only to let your body fall face-first onto your bed. Ellie closes your door and rolls her eyes at your flopped body. A squeal escapes your throat at the feeling of her hand harshly meeting your ass.

“I’m up. I’m up!”, rolling over and scooting off the bed. You look at your hamper full of clothes with disdain and dump it all on your bed, sifting through the clothes you half-hazardly eyeball stuff you liked to wear, shoving it in your suitcase. Turning around to sift through your dresser drawers, repeating the process with bras and panties. You put your hands on your hips and look at Ellie with a proud smile, “Done! See! Less than five minutes.”

She smirks at you from her place on your head, “Truly revolutionary baby. Now c’mere, let me show you what a good job you did.”, she says, patting her thighs.

Biting her lip at her boldness, you lift your body onto your bed crawling up to the headboard where she’s leaning. You had been seeing her for about a month and had yet to get used to her bold flirting, you were so accustomed to being the bold one, it made your heart race when she beat you to the punch.

Placing your knees on either side of her thighs you let yourself sink against her warm body. Sighing as her hands grip your plush thighs. Tilting your head you let your lips trace from her jaw to her mouth, your tongue sliding across the seam of her lips. Your hips shift forward as your tongues mesh. Your cold hands slide under Ellie’s loose t-shirt and you smile against her lips as she shivers. Her hands slide up and lift your shirt over your head tossing it to the side. You let your fingers thread through her short hair, moaning softly as her lips kiss and nip at your neck and chest.

“Jesus! Lock the door!” Noah's voice fills the room abruptly. Pulling away from Ellie you sit back to sit on her thighs and turn to give Noah the finger, “If Luna sent you in here to check if I’m packed, I’m packed!”. The three of them laughing fill the apartment, causing you to roll your eyes. Your friends are assholes.

–

Bea claps her hands, way too energetic. Didn’t she know what fucking time it was? To quote Luna it was four in the fucking morning. Your eyes are barely open as she speaks, “Alright fuckers! Ground rules. We’ve shared an apartment but not a bus so here’s what we’re not gonna do!”

Groaning at her enthusiasm you grip the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, sticking your nose into it. Ellie's front is pressed to your back and her arms wrap around you, warming you up. The morning fog just makes you want to fall back asleep.

Bea goes over how you all are responsible for keeping the bus clean, how we need to make sure we keep our laundry clean, how we all need to follow our schedule, blah blah blah. Her eyes darting to you and Ellie with a pointed look makes you perk up slightly, and you give her a ‘what?’ look.

“You two! We’re going to be staying in hotels too so you can keep it in your pants till then, yeah?” She speaks with a hand on her hip, like a mother scolding her children. She even had her binder perched on her other arm.

You roll your eyes and lean on one hip, “Yeah! We– Jesus– we’ll be good, okay? Nothing to worry about.”, Ellie’s laughing rumbles at your back causing you to let out a breathy chuckle.

–

“Fucking…could they have made these beds a little wider?”Ellie mumbles as you and her shift around, attempting to get comfortable. You can’t help but giggle at her frustration, you felt perfectly comfortable as you had half your body draped across Ellie.

“Open the curtain and it’ll feel more spacious!”, you giggle out as she wiggles against you.

She mumbles without thinking, “Fuck no. I don’t want them seeing anything.”, she finally settles with one hand behind her head.

Your eyes dart up to hers, “Seeing anything? Last time I checked– you’re not quiet. I’m not quite–”

“Well, never a better time to practice, hm?”, she mumbles against the top of your head as her arm around you traces shapes on your back making you shiver. You smack her stomach and ‘tsk’ at her, “You’re a goddamn pervert.”

Although you can’t lie… the idea of her fingers sinking into you while one hand covers your mouth…did make you undeniably flustered.

–

Shaking out your hands you take deep breaths, watching as Oliver runs onto the stage. Rolling your head around your shoulders as Bea runs out, flashing a million-watt smile at the crowd. Taking a big breath, you skip onto the stage, waving with both hands. You skip over to your guitar and fling the strap around your shoulders, resting the heavy instrument against your body. As your fingers begin to work the guitar your eyes drift over to the right wings of the stage, you're not able to contain your smile as you and Ellie make eye contact.

Your eyes wander even more to her as you sing your solo song. Fingers dance across the acoustic guitar, grinning like a teenager as you look at her. Jesus, what is happening to you?

–

“Oh my fucking God! I literally can’t believe I am here. Right now. And you’re there. Right now.”, she gushes as you chuckle and sign her vinyl album cover. Her manicured nails ghost over your hand as you hand the album back, “Y’know I’m only in town for tonight. I know a great bar and I’d love to take you there.”, her cheeks turn a vibrant shade of red as she speaks with hopeful eyes.

Your eyes widen and you straighten your back, taking a step backward, “Oh– I’m not– I’m not really spending time with–”, an arm around your shoulders startles you mid-sentence.

“Everything okay?” Ellie asks, standing taller than usual, her arm around you pulling you close.

“Oh! I– I’m sorry! I didn’t– um…thank you for the signature! You– you guys are amazing!”, the girl stutters, face flushing a concerning shade and she walks away from you back to her friends.

You drop your tense shoulders and turn to lean into Ellie’s chest, covering your face with your hands, “Thank you. Jesus Christ. That was so fucking awkward.”, you mumble against her. She chuckles, arms wrapping around your back. She dips her head down and kisses the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver.

Your head tilts up and your lips meet hers. There is still a rather large crowd wanting to say hi to you and the band and you hope at least one person is taking pictures.

You mumble against her lips, “Let’s get to our hotel room, yeah?”

–

Wringing your hair out with the hotel towel you eye Ellie as she relaxes on the giant bed, leaning against the headboard. She looks edible in her plaid pajama pants and snug sports bra. Hanging the towel on the hooks in the bathroom you shrug on your oversized t-shirt. Ellie was scrolling on her phone and hadn’t noticed you walking around the room. Quietly walking over to her side of the bed you slide on top of her straddling her thighs, your hands ghosting over her exposed stomach. Peering at you over her phone she gives you a smirk, “Whatcha doin’ baby?” her stomach tenses as your hands trace patterns in her skin.

Returning her smug smile you scoot lower and dip your head down placing feathery kisses on her stomach, keeping your eyes locked. A delicious shade of pink rises on her freckled cheeks. Tossing her phone to the foot of the bed she gives you her full attention, mumbling a quiet ‘fuck’. You let out a small giggle at the way her eyes glaze over with lust as she watches you place kisses down past her navel.

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of her pajamas you pull them down, biting your bottom lip at her lack of boxers. Taking your sweet time you place kisses on her navel again, slowly moving down to kiss her thighs. Your hands drift along her thighs, separating them as you lower to your belly on the bed, keeping eye contact with Ellie.

“Fuck, baby. You look so fucking beautiful. You’re right where you belong, aren’t you?”, she speaks in a raspy voice.

Brain turning fuzzy at her words you let out a small whimper and nod your head, wide eyes peering up at her. You finally let your tongue dart out placing kitten licks onto her clit, hands gripping her strong thighs. Mumbling your name amidst several curses as you flatten your tongue against her with more pressure. Paying attention to her reactions as you move you circle your flat tongue as you slide your middle and ring finger into her soaking cunt with ease. Smiling against her as she whimpers as your fingers curl.

Noticing your smug look she lets out a breathy chuckle before she pulls you up to her by your hair causing you to let out your own whimper. You rise to your knees with your fingers still sliding into her, moans mingling as your lips connect. Your thumb finds her clit and she pulls back unconsciously and you savor the way her brows furrow at your movement. You press your lips to hers messily as it becomes difficult to move your fingers and your arm aches.

“Fucking– fuck…fuck. Don’t fucking stop baby.”

Whispering breathy mumbles against your lips you can feel her come undone on your fingers, your arm not stopping until she is gripping your wrist, thighs trembling, and whimpering. That sound will never fucking get old. Gently slipping your fingers out you make sure she is watching as they slip into your warm mouth. Ellie’s head drops against the headboard and you take the opportunity to kiss marks onto her neck.

You lean back and scoot to hop off the bed to get a damp rag but Ellie’s hands grip your waist and pull you back causing a squeal to escape, “Els! What are you doing!”

“I’m not fuckin’ done with you baby.”, she speaks against the back of your neck, the sensation ticklish causing you to laugh and squirm in her hold. Ellie tosses you onto the bed before hopping off and rummaging through her duffle and pulling on a pair of boxers. Your heart races in anticipation as you watch her pull the harness taunt. Biting back a grin as she moves back to the bed, kneeling over your sitting frame. Ellie's hands find either side of your face as you exchange a messy kiss, her hands find the hem of your shirt lifting it off of you and throwing it behind her. Speaking against your lips softly, “Lay back pretty girl.”

–

The rising sun irritates you as you shuffle out of the hotel, hands stuffed into the hoodie Ellie let you wear. Why the fuck did Bea have the bus leaving at five in the fucking morning anyway? Chucking your duffle into the bottom compartment of the bus you step into the bus as quickly as possible. You were exhausted. Someone has kept you up until three in the morning, the both of you forgetting that your bus was leaving at the ass crack of dawn. You take a seat at the table inside the bus and wait for everyone else to board.

Luna and Noah take a seat across from you eyeing your grumpy appearance. Ellie steps onto the bus yawning as she plops down on the couch across from the table. Oliver and Bea are, of course, chipper as ever as they practically skip onto the bus, greeting everyone.

With everyone on the bus, you shuffle over to Ellie grab her sleeve and tug her to your bunk, sliding in still holding her sleeve you yank her in with you, immediately draping your body over hers and finally sleeping. Onto the next state.

#ˏˋ°•*⁀➷humanbug fics #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou ellie #tlou #ellie williams tlou #tlou x reader #tlou fic #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams smut #tlou smut

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sproutmoie · 1 month

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SproutMoIe About Me :3

HI!!!!!!!!!! My name is Bea, but call me whatever. I use they/them pronouns.

I take doodle requests! Or questions! Please talk to me!

I really love bugs and isopods (big & small!). I have two giant isopod plushes named Podrick and Scallop. Please ask to see them.

I really enjoy Omori as well, my favorites being Basil & Mari, as well as Kimberly and Bossman Hero.

Other noteworthy fandoms: Infinity Train, Ensemble Stars!!, MLP, Animal Crossing, Osemanverse, & Musical Theatre.

I'm also a big fan of music, most notably Adrianne Lenker and Boygenius :3

#omori basil #omori #intro post #introduction #blehhh

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obitohno · 2 years

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[ k i n k t o b e r ]

confession

nanami kento x reader

synopsis ⤸

to atone your sins, nanami must first commit one of his own.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, priest! nanami, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, mutual masturbation, public masturbation, dubcon (ish), public orgasms, handjobs, fingering, squirting, mutual pining, corruption, breaking of religious vows

word count ⤸

1.5k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

i finally got around to not only updating my kinktober synopsises, but also writing out my first piece! a few people expressed interest in priest! nanami, so of course, it had to be the first one that i wrote. i hope that you enjoy the read, n if you do, pls reblog to boost ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

in all the years that he’s graced this earth, nanami likes to believe that his life has been a purely virtuous one. that is, until you waltz into the sanctuary of his pint-sized chapel.

it is the middle of autumn, and he’s just about to lock up for the evening, when you come skipping down the old cobbled path, almost tripping over your own feet when the heel of your boot skims over the smooth surface of a particularly large stone. you catch your balance on the door, the wood biting into the crook of which your thumb parts from the rest of your hand, a giddy, coy smile stretching at your lips.

and nanami, despite the vow of abstinence that he’s obeyed meticulously for the past five years, is weakened by the sight.

you’re shivering, a dusting of wet shimmering over the bridge of your nose accentuated by the gentle glow that is emitted from the candles that he’d lit for earlier’s mass.

he recognises you—you’ve visited a couple of times over the years since he’s been placed here, although, he feels a smidge of guilt upon realising that your name is lost to him. he offers a polite smile, one that is a little forced due to the fact that your presence is delaying his evening routine. still, you must’ve sought shelter in here of all places, for a reason, and so he takes a step back, silently allowing you to take refuge out of the rain that drizzles behind you.

‘hi!’ your enthused greeting echoes through the hall, and he finds that the sheepish grin that makes its way onto your face is endearing. ‘um, sorry,’ you immediately lower your tone, ‘i’ve come for confession—i was meant to stop by on sunday, but i—’ you pause, eyes glancing over his shoulder to realise that the chapel is very much empty, save for the two of you. ‘oh, uh, am i too late?’

yes, he should say, because, really, you are.

but he doesn’t want to. remorse has his stomach churning, for his gaze lingers on the curve of your cupid’s bow, eyes grazing over the plush of your bottom lip for far longer than it should. the feeling only doubles when the palm of his hand grazes the small of your back when he invites you further inside, his pulse thumping a little harder than normal.

‘not at all.’

you introduce yourself with a soft titter, allowing him to lead you toward the corner of the small hall, to where the confession booth stands, unable to see the way that his mouth silently forms the shape of your name. for a reason unknown to you, he loiters by the door, leaning over your shoulder to open it for you, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you beam up at him gratefully.

‘thanks, father.’

there’s something about the way that your voice lilts, and he fears he may go to hell for the way that the confides of his robes suddenly feel a tad constricted. he prays that his cheeks don’t look as warm as they feel, averting his gaze from the suspiciously innocent doe-eyed look that you aim his way. clearing his throat, he tilts his head, watching from the corner of his eye as you duck inside the booth, the door clicking shut behind you.

retreating to his side of the booth, nanami hesitates, fingers curled around the handle as he forces a slow exhale from the centre of his chest.

inside, you patiently await for the gentle creak of the wooden seat adjusting to his weight before you beat him to the chance to speak.

‘father, have you ever lusted after someone that you shouldn’t’ve?’

over the last five years, nanami has listened to all varieties of confessions. admittedly, some are more boring than others, and some are so completely far-fetched that he hopes that they’re nothing more than fabrication. thus, he likes to think that he’s heard it all. however, your question startles him, and through the lattice that separates the two of you, you’re just able to make out the shadow of his side profile, stunned into silence.

‘i have,’ you confess, your words exhaled around a wanton sigh. ‘and the lord knows that i’ve tried to stop,’ you admit, sounding all too woeful, ‘but… i want him so desperately that i just can’t help myself.’

there’s a heavy pause.

and then, his reply comes in the form of a croaked whisper, ‘i have, too.’

exhilaration bubbles inside you, as does the heat that warms the space between your thighs.

‘you have?’ you lean toward the lattice partition, straining to listen to the quiet breath that is expelled from out of his nostrils. ‘when?’

you almost think that he isn’t going to answer, for you lose track of how long the silence stretches on for, but when he does, delight chews at the inside of your stomach, your bottom lip tugged between the blunt edges of your teeth.

‘right now.’

‘you are?’ you aren’t able to hide your eagerness, excitement warping your tone. your fingers are already tracing under the hem of your dress, splayed over the expanse of your thigh as they slowly tickle their way toward the seam of your underwear. ‘you—ah—who do you lust for, father?’

your fingers are making quick work of shoving the thin material of your underwear to the side, gasping a short breath when your thumb catches on the hardened nub of your clit. his response is whispered, lost to the sound of his robes rustling, seat creaking as he adjusts his weight. in here, it is dark, so much so that you can’t see much other than the outline of him, even when you try your best to squint.

if you are to be truthful, this isn’t at all what you’d had in mind when you’d originally planned to make the short journey across the village in order to make a sweet and honest confession. in actuality, it wasn’t until you’d felt the warm expanse of his palm at your back that you’d decided to push your luck tonight. but your rushed confession hadn’t been a lie. your visits to the local chapel are scarce, but the lord does know that this poor, innocent, people-serving priest has been the subject of your fantasies for many a dream.

and by the will of the gods, somehow, luck is on your side.

‘our lord, our saviour—’ he starts to murmur the beginnings of a prayer, the low baritone of his voice now strained around a barely constrained moan.

he isn’t able to see the way that your lips part, but he does witness the sound of your soft mewl, accompanied by the wet squish of your fingers breaching past the barrier of your hole. a low groan of approval drifts from his side of the partition, before it is choked upon, a strangled gasp quickly following after.

‘f-forgive me.’

the words are stuttered, heaved from his chest as he desperately fists at his swollen length, fingers tightening around the bulbous shape of his tip each time that they crest. his free hand grasps a fistful of his robes, the material soft under the palm of his hand, but the velvet-like glide of his foreskin as he roughly tugs it back with each downstroke is softer yet. shamefully, he’s all too familiar with the way that his balls tighten, filled with the promise of the impending orgasm that is yet to come.

the curling of his fingers is aided by the translucent slick that leaks from his slit in rivets, dribbling along the curved underside where he smears it over the ridge of nerves that have his hips jerking, the crown of his head gently thunking against the back of his seat. it is his turn to voice his approval, a strained grunt escaping him, thumb circling over that one, special spot that has him seeing stars.

not even a foot away, you listen, greedily licking at your lips as you dare to imagine just what he’d taste like, your pelvis gyrating as you fuck yourself on your fingers, the wooden seat having long absorbed the constantly slow of your honeyed juices that stain the surface.

‘father—!’

you cream with a sweet wail that has him accompanying you, ribbons of pearl spurting from the very tip of him and splattering a tantalising puddle all over the crumpled fabrics of his robes. the strength of his climax renders him breathless, and he can do nothing but listen as your cunt sprays a pretty mess that he is ashamed to admit that he wishes he could taste.

‘you,’ he eventually wheezes an answer amidst the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the base of his cock twitching a pathetically weak display of approval. ‘it is you whom i lust for.’

and he can only pray that the heavens will forgive him.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡#jjk x reader #jjk smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento smut

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shadowtoons · 5 months

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Hi Frankie! I have a message for you and Barnaby UwU

To Barnaby: hello Barnaby! I’d just like to say that you are my comfort character and Esther (me), Lottie and Bea love you very much as I’m sure lots of other bbu fans do! I’m not feeling the best at the moment but you are helping me through this as all of my other friends are too! I also ordered a Barnaby plush for Lottie ^^

To Frankie: Hi Frankie! Your art is absolutely gorgeous and I love every single post you do! I have a question. HOW IN GOD’S PANCREAS IS YOU ART SO DELICIOUS! I eat your art 👁️👅👁️. I drew my persona hugging yours c:

(P.S. would Barnaby and Frankie like a cookie? :3

Really though thank you so much! Hope you have a great holiday! ^^

#ShadowToons #barnaby #billie bust up #billie bust up barnaby #barnaby bbu #bbu barnaby

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bratshaws · 4 months

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through the hourglass 318. brb x oc

a/n: uwu pls work(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/316/317

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca @callsign-magnolia

It’s been a while since she visited Marcus, actually a few months. She knew he was busy with his new collection -’ a fashion designer never sleeps,darling’ - and she was busy with…life. But now she feels a bit better, a few days have passed since she slept at her parents and had the conversation with Rooster.

So she felt better.

One sunny afternoon, with the kids in tow, she decided to pay a visit to Marcus's studio. As she approached the trendy building that housed Marcus's atelier, the bustling energy of the city surrounded her, a stark contrast to the stormy night that seemed like ages ago.

Entering the studio, the air was alive with the hum of creativity and Eurythmics blasting - quietly- all over the area. Bolts of fabric in vibrant hues adorned the walls, sketches and designs scattered across worktables, and the rhythmic clatter of sewing machines echoed through the space. Marcus, surrounded by his team of talented artisans, looked up from his work with a bright smile.

"Bea, darling! You're a sight for sore eyes," Marcus exclaimed, abandoning his current project to embrace her. The kids, wide-eyed at the vibrant surroundings, took in the colorful array of fabrics and the artistic chaos of the studio.

Beatrice laughed, the sound echoing through the atelier. "Marcus, it's been too long! How's the new collection coming along?"

Marcus beamed with pride, gesturing towards the array of designs. "Oh, darling, you're in for a treat. This collection is my masterpiece, a symphony of colors and textures. You have to see it."

“I hope you don’t mind I brought the kids…”

Marcus waved off Beatrice's concern with a flourish. "Mind? Darling, I adore having the little ones around. They're like tiny muses inspiring my creative genius. Come, come, let me show you around."

With that, Marcus led Beatrice and her kids through the studio.. The kids, wide-eyed and fascinated, watched as designers sketched, seamstresses meticulously sewed, and the entire space buzzed with energy, “Now this,” he gestures to a long dress on a mannequin, “Will be the main focus of the collection.”

"Marcus, this is incredible," Beatrice exclaimed, genuinely impressed. "Did you stone it by yourself?”

Marcus chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, darling, you know me too well. Yes, I stoned it myself. Late nights, endless cups of coffee, and a sprinkle of creative madness. It's my labor of love."

Beatrice admired the intricate details of the dress, the stones catching the light . "It's stunning, Marcus.Like always."

“Oh you’ll make me blush, come come, I have a few pieces for your tiny trio.” cue Nicole babbling excitedly while Bea pushed the double stroller, “Also,darling, you can keep them in the baby room I made just for you.”

“Oh,I know,Marcus.”

Beatrice followed Marcus to a cozy corner of the studio, a room filled with whimsical patterns and soft fabrics. The baby room, as Marcus had affectionately called it, was a haven of pastel colors and plush toys. Nicole's eyes widened in delight as she spotted a collection of stuffed animals, letting go of her mother’s hand to dive right into the pile while Gavin and Aurora curiously explored the room with their eyes.

"Marcus, this is incredible. You didn't have to go through all this trouble," Beatrice said, touched by her friend's thoughtful gesture.

"Nonsense, darling! It's my pleasure. Every time you visit, I want you and the little ones to feel at home. Now, let's get those treasures of yours situated, and we can catch up properly."

As Marcus helped arrange the kids in the cozy space he had created for them, Beatrice couldn't help but marvel at the genuine warmth and care he poured into every detail. Amazing that this friendship happened because of…well,fate.

Once the kids were settled, Marcus ushered Beatrice into a more private area of the studio, away from the creative whirlwind. They settled into a plush sofa, surrounded by swatches of fabric and sketches "So, darling, spill the tea. What brings you to my humble abode today?" Marcus asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Beatrice took a deep breath, chuckling softly, “Boy…where to begin.” she whispers “It’s been a lot.”

Marcus listened intently as Beatrice began to share the events that had unfolded in her life recently.Marcus's expressive face mirrored a range of emotions – concern, surprise, and a touch of intrigue.

Okay maybe a lot of intrigue.

"My dear Bea," Marcus finally said, his voice filled with softness, "you're facing quite the tempest. Tell me, how can I be of help in this storm of yours?"

Beatrice leaned back against the plush sofa, appreciating the genuine concern in Marcus's eyes. "Marcus, I appreciate it but…I’m fine,I’m better than before,honestly.”

Marcus reached out, squeezing Beatrice's hand reassuringly. "Darling, you are sure?”

“I am.”

Marcus nodded thoughtfully. "Well,I’ll have you know that I am very good reading people,it’s part of my job to know how they feel,after all."

"Yes, you do have that talent, Marcus. It's one of the many things I admire about you."

"Oh, darling, you flatter me. But seriously, I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

The levity in Marcus's words lightened the mood, and Beatric’s smile widened. "Thank you, Marcus. "

"Now, my dear, enough about storms and tempests. Let's talk about something that brings joy to your heart. Dressing you up!”

"Dressing me up? Well, but, the kids—."

Marcus chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, my darling, I have a surprise for the little trio as well. But first, let's focus on you. I've been working on something special, just for you."

“Again? Marcus–”

With that, Marcus disappeared into the depths of his studio, leaving Beatrice curious and slightly bewildered. She couldn't help but wonder what fashionable creation he had in store. Moments later, Marcus returned, holding a garment bag "Ta-da!" Marcus exclaimed, presenting the bag with a flourish. "This, my dear, is a gift from me,to you. Open it, and let me know what you think."

Beatrice took the bag,curiosity coursing through her. As she unzipped it, she revealed a stunning ensemble – a tailored jacket with intricate embroidery that depicted a field of lavender.

Oh she was about to cry.

Beatrice's breath caught as she delicately ran her fingers over the embroidered lavender. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and the vibrant colors seemed to come alive under the studio lights. She couldn't help but be moved by the thoughtful gift from Marcus.

"Marcus, this is... breathtaking," she murmured, her eyes glistening with emotion. "I don't even have words. How did you...?"

"Darling, a magician never reveals his secrets," Marcus teased with a twinkle in his eye. "But seriously, I wanted to create something that reflects your beauty. Lavender, in the language of flowers, symbolizes calmness and grace. You embody both, my dear Bea."

Beatrice was touched, a mixture of gratitude and awe filling her heart. She stood, slipping into the jacket, and it fit her like a second skin. The intricate details seemed to tell a story of resilience and beauty, much like the woman wearing it.

"Oh, Marcus, it's perfect," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I'm delighted you love it, darling. Now, let's not keep the kids waiting. I have surprises for them as well," Marcus declared, leading Beatrice back to the baby room.

The kids, still engrossed in the plush haven Marcus had created for them, looked up with wide eyes as Beatrice entered, adorned in the stunning lavender jacket. Nicole, squealed in delight, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

"Mama pretty!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

"Now, for my tiny muses," Marcus announced, producing three miniature versions of the lavender-themed ensemble. Beatrice gasped, her heart swelling at the adorable sight. Marcus handed the tiny garments to the kids, who couldn't contain their excitement.

"Oh, Marcus, you've outdone yourself," Beatrice marveled, watching as her children eagerly tried on their matching outfits. Well,Nicole did,Gavin and Aurora were fast asleep.

She approached him, a tender smile on her lips. "Marcus, I can't thank you enough for this. The jacket, the matching outfits for the kids—it's beyond anything I could have imagined."

"Darling Bea, seeing you and the little ones happy is all the thanks I need," Marcus replied, sincerity lacing his words. "Besides you and I know that Bradley will love to see you wearing that."

She smiles more,rubbing her wedding ring, “..yeah.” she hopes he was okay.

Trying to find information about Mark was complicated.

But not hard.

Rooster had the basics, the bottom of a cup with the information he gathered but…it was enough to get Cyclone’s attention.

Now he had to figure out how to proceed.

Rooster sat in his office, the dim glow of the desk lamp cast shadows on the walls as he studied the limited information he had on Mark.

With a sigh, Rooster glanced at the clock. The early morning hours had a stillness to them, a quietness that neared unnerving. He decided to take a short break and stepped out onto the hallway. The fresh air hit him, a mix of ocean breeze and the lingering scent of rain.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he retrieved it to find a message from Beatrice.

Bea (13:30)

Hey, Rooster. Look what Marcus gave me! Isn’t it pretty?

Rooster couldn't help but smile at Beatrice's message. It was a welcome distraction from the weight of the ongoing investigation. He clicked on the attached image and found the picture was of herself wearing a…lavender blazer?

And he assumed the colorful blur behind her was Nicole,obviously.

Roos (13:35)

Stylish as always, Gorgeous.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the office door. McAllister appeared, stood in the doorway with a folder in hand. "Sir, got some updates on those modifications you were looking into," he said, his tone serious.

Rooster gestured for him to enter. "What did you find?"

McAllister began explaining, "The modifications on Mark's jet were more extensive than initially thought, sir. It goes beyond just upgrading communication systems. The entire avionics suite has been overhauled, with a focus on enhancing data processing speed and connectivity."

Rooster's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would Mark need such extensive modifications?“

McAllister continued, "That's not all, sir. The modifications include an experimental software patch that seems to integrate advanced tracking algorithms. It's designed to improve navigation precision and, well, tracking capabilities. I've never seen anything like it, and it's not standard Navy issue."

Rooster's mind raced as he absorbed the implications. "Tracking capabilities? That goes beyond standard avionics upgrades. What's the purpose of this? And who authorized it?"

McAllister hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "There's no official authorization on record, sir. It's all off the books. The technicians involved were instructed to keep it quiet. I managed to find one who was willing to talk anonymously. According to him, Mark was adamant about avoiding any trace of these modifications."

Rooster rubbed his temples, the weight of the situation pressing on him. "This is highly irregular, McAllister. We need to find out why Mark was implementing such significant changes without proper authorization. And what's the purpose of this advanced tracking system?"

"I agree, sir. The technician mentioned something else. He overheard Mark talking about 'keeping an eye on potential threats' during missions. It's vague, but it sounds like Mark had a specific target or concern in mind."

Rooster's mind churned with possibilities. The mention of potential threats and advanced tracking suggested a level of paranoia or a hidden agenda. "We need to dig deeper. Find out if Mark was acting alone."

McAllister nodded, understanding the delicate nature of the situation. "I'll continue the investigation, sir. See if there are any connections to external entities or if this is an isolated incident within the squadron."

As McAllister left the office, Rooster returned to studying the gathered information. The puzzle pieces were slowly coming together, revealing a picture of Mark's secretive actions and the potential ramifications for the squadron.

His phone buzzed again, and he remembered he was talking to Bea moments ago.

Rooster checked his phone to find another message from Beatrice.

Bea (14:00)

Rooster, the blazer is lavender,and has tiny lavenders on it!! Nicole insisted on showing you her fit too,so.

Rooster chuckled at the picture of Nicole barely trying how to pose and just smiling up at him appreciating the momentary escape from the intensity of his current investigation.

Roos (14:05)

Noted, Gorgeous. Lavender it is. Nicole looks great.

“Sir?”

Rooster looks up when he sees McAllister again, “Yes?”

“Vice-Admiral Simpson wants to talk,” he says, “At once.”

Rooster nodded,exhaling through his nose. "I'll be there in a moment."

As McAllister left to inform Vice-Admiral Simpson of Rooster's imminent arrival, Rooster took a deep breath, mentally preparing for the conversation that awaited him. He glanced at the clock, then to the horizon. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the naval base.

Before leaving his office, Rooster shot a quick message to Beatrice.

Roos (14:15)

Gorgeous, got called to a meeting with Cyclone. Seems urgent. Will update you ASAP. Take care, and give my love to the little ones.

With a heavy heart, Rooster left his office and made his way to Vice-Admiral Simpson's office. The corridors were filled with the usual hum of activity, but Rooster's thoughts were focused on the impending conversation. He couldn't shake the feeling that the storm within the squadron was reaching a critical juncture.

Upon reaching Cyclone’s office, Rooster knocked and entered. The vice-admiral, looked up from his desk. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, have a seat."

Rooster sat down, the tension in the room palpable. "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

Vice-Admiral Simpson leaned forward, his expression grave. "I've been briefed on your investigation into Lieutenant Mark’s unauthorized modifications. This is a serious matter, Bradshaw."

"Yes, sir. I'm working to gather all the relevant information and determine the extent of the modifications and their implications for the squadron," Rooster replied, maintaining a respectful tone.

"This situation has the potential to cast a shadow over the entire squadron. We can't afford any breaches in security or trust. Again."

"I understand the gravity of the situation, sir. I'm committed to resolving this matter thoroughly and ensuring the integrity of the squadron," Rooster affirmed.

Vice-Admiral Simpson's eyes bore into Rooster. "You have a clean record, Bradshaw, and I've seen your dedication to the Navy. But this investigation requires a swift resolution. We can't let it linger, and we can't afford any missteps. "

Rooster nodded, his jaw clenched. The weight of the responsibility pressed on him. "I'm aware, sir. I'll do everything in my power to bring this investigation to a swift and accurate conclusion."

Cyclone leaned back, his stern expression softening slightly. "I trust that you will, Lieutenant. The Navy needs officers who can handle challenges with efficiency and discretion. But…may I make a suggestion?"

“Sir?”

"I think,by now…you can toss a few crumbs for Mark to catch.”

Rooster's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at Vice-Admiral Simpson's suggestion. "Crumbs, sir?"

"Bradshaw, sometimes, in situations like these, it's strategic to let the suspect believe they have control. Give them just enough to make a move. We need to see if Mark takes the bait."

Rooster considered the vice-admiral's words. It was a delicate balance between maintaining control of the investigation and allowing the suspect to reveal their hand. "You mean...feed Mark some information, sir?"

"Exactly. Controlled information. Something that won't compromise the integrity of the investigation but might lead us to more answers," Cyclone clarified.

Rooster nodded, understanding the strategic approach. "..ohhhh."

"Use your judgment, Bradshaw. We need a resolution sooner rather than later." he smirks, “Enjoy it,Lt.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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birgittesilverbae · 11 months

Note

prompt em consider... dads!shan has big BLÅHAJ and libby has baby blåhaj (in lower case shhhh... he baby) (shan got them matching set ok ok)

& they r like... doing a shark attack on bea & bea is like 'shan!' & then they both get a lecture about 'spreading selachimorpha misinformation'

The living room is in shadow, lit only by the flickering light of the TV. Beatrice, curled on her side on the couch, runs a thumbnail down the seam joining the front and side panel of the seat cushion beneath her head. On-screen, the camera pans across an empty beachfront, a hint of a dark fin slicing through the water. The soundtrack picks up, and Beatrice's breathing rate escalates in time, watching as two small boats capsize, spilling their occupants into the water. The fin parts the waves like a needle through silk, and the hairs stand up on the back of Beatrice's neck.

Something's changed in the air, she thinks, has sent shivers running down her spine as a man treads water, unaware of the imminent danger closing in on him. Her mouth twists ruefully, her fingers encircling the bareness of her left ring finger and squeezing, twisting.

A creak behind her, the shark driving up out of the water in front, something soft and solid launched over the back of the couch and landing on her. A concerted crow of "Shark!" Beatrice shrieks, then coughs, works her hands up beneath plush fabric to cover her face. She groans, and raucous laughter comes in response.

A heavier object rolls over the back of the couch, lands solidly on her stomach, squirming and giggling. Beatrice cracks her eyes open and reaches out to caress the side of Libby's head.

"Gotcha," Libby bubbles, poking Beatrice in the chest with her tiny stuffed shark.

"You got me," Beatrice agrees placidly. She shoves the larger shark away from her face and dips her head to kiss Libby's forehead. "You think of that all on your own?"

Libby shakes her head, tilts it towards the rear of the couch. "Aunt Shan helped."

"Oh, did she now?"

"Mhmm."

Beatrice taps Libby on the nose. "Your Aunt Shannon should know better than selachimorpha misinformation."

Shannon rises from behind the couch, twisting and turning until her back gives an unsettling crack. "Your Aunt Shannon can't even pronounce seal-chimp misinformation," she replies, ruffling Libby's hair. "And," she continues, turning to Beatrice, "I'm not the one watching the movie that completely altered public perception and fear of sharks."

"I just needed to make my brain stop for a bit," Beatrice sighs, sitting up out of the way as Shannon vaults over the back of the couch and reaches across her for the remote.

"Baba, what's seal-chimp misinfo'mation?"

"Selachimorpha," Beatrice corrects gently, pulling her blanket back around her shoulders. "Selachimorpha misinformation. People telling hurtful lies about sharks." She glances up at the screen as title cards rush past. "Shan, can you look for that BBC show? I can't remember what it's called."

"Shark?"

"Yes, the one about sharks."

"No, I mean it's literally called 'Shark'." She grabs up her shark plush again and presses its snout to Beatrice's cheek. "On it, kiddo."

#ask #daisychainsandbowties #fic: dads #myfic #mywn #warrior nun #sister beatrice #shannon masters

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604to647 · 19 days

Text

WIP Wednesday (so/too many things 🫣)

Thank you for the tag @mermaidgirl30 😘

A productive week of writing! Writing Birthday Bunny for P's birthday really got me back into the groove of writing for our Safest with You couple 🥰

Ch. 15 - The BBQ is written but needs a good, scrub down edit 😂:

Clawing down your partially exposed body, clamouring to find the inside tie that separate him from your soft body, Din pauses only to pull you away from the car so he can unlock the door; as soon as it opens, he walks you backwards and helps you up onto the seat, scooting you back so your legs dangle out the door.

“There,” Din says huskily, as he finds the little knot on the right inside seam of your dress and pulls so it unfurls, “you aren’t out in the open anymore.” He spreads apart the fabric of your dress so you’re presented to him in your pretty pink mesh and ruffles lingerie set; he sucks in his breath.

“Just for you, daddy,” you coo. You knew Din wouldn’t be expecting something so flirty and naughty under the dress you had picked for what was supposed to be a casual and wholesome family event.

Ch. 16 - The Matchup is about 80% done as well:

The roar of the crowd is deafening. Despite this being an unsanctioned match, the spectators have showed up in droves, drawn in by Din’s celebrated fight history, the underlying family rivalry, or both.

When Din and the contingent from Mando’s make their ring entrance, the noise level somehow crescendos; you hold Bea and Lala’s hands and catch Paz’s eye with your own, shining bright with pride as you cheer loud. Somehow Din discerns your voice over the crowd and as he passes your row, looking calm and formidable, he finds you and his eyes soften just long enough to throw you a wink before settling back into a steely glare. Jimmy on the other hand follows behind Greef, all pumping fists and testosterone fueled howls. He hypes up the crowd even more, reaching in to fist bump you and the girls, and accepts a hair tousle from Paz’s long reaching arm.

The last part of Mi Galleta will be posted on Friday! I can't believe I finished a series 😭 I already started to miss our scowly bouncer and his Cookie, so I decided I would try my hand at @undercoverpena's April Showers Challenge for them - the opening lines are written (plus moodboard made):

“Keep your eyes open, Cookie.”

Your eyes snap open at Pero’s command, followed by a slower opening of your plush mouth into an oh shape before you let out a whimper.

He’s working you open so deftly with just two of his fingers, it’s a wonder you’re not crying out obscenities and pleading to come. But you have to stay quiet; you are, after all, at Pero’s place of work.

Finally, because I don't know what's good for me, I've had a little Bridgerton AU idea for a while, even before P showed up at the SAG Awards in Regency Prada™️. The basic premise is that Reader is a family friend of the Bridgertons, but missed her season (Daphne's) as she was travelling abroad with her father, now forced to return in order to finally enter the marriage mart two years later after her friend. Our Pboi is either Pero or Frankie, and he's Spanish nobility that's visiting London; being a good friend of Colin Bridgerton's who the latter met during his recent travels, Pero/Frankie is begrudgingly dragged to this season's events by his friend.

The thing is this/here's the thing: I want to make it childhood best friends to lovers, but I also want the SAG pictures to be my main visual inspo.

No pressure tags and anyone else who likes to do these (I do!🥰) please do! @nerdieforpedro @alltheotps

#wip wednesday #too many wips #halp #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #pero tovar #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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girlwhofellfromthemoon · 7 months

Text

↑ the first moodboard i made for this account (oct 2023)

Welcome to my blog 🫐🐇

↓ this song makes me feel so soft

I've included some information about me, my dni, and request rules under the cut 💕

About my blog 🐣🍊

My name is Phoebe (she/her) and this is where I post things I like! I mainly reblog (and my blog runs on a very long queue) but I also make agere moodboards. I take moodboard requests, here's a link to a post with more information. You can check whether my requests are open or not in my bio. 🎁😴 Also feel free to send me messages or ask questions either through my askbox or DM's and I'll try to respond as soon as I can though sometimes it might take a little ✉️✏️

My blog is mostly agere but also things like animals, art, and just anything i find interesting. It's all strictly sfw and child friendly content though! 💖 My sideblog is @littleladyscosyblog where I post adult-related things. On there I reblog cosy, homesteading, and relationship posts although some of my posts on there are nsfw so I keep it separate from this blog ! Please keep that in mind if you visit it 🎁💗

About me 🌞☁️

For a proper introduction, you can call me Phoebe, Bea, or Bebe. 🐣 My big age is 18 and my little age is usually 1-2 but can sometimes also be around age 6. I regress for mental health reasons and it can be both voluntary and involuntary for me. I usually regress while tired or upset and regression really helps me calm myself. Usually while regressed I like to cuddle up in bed and watch a movie or just take a nap, things that are all warm and cosy. Regression is a very healing process for me 💕

When big I spend most of my time studying, I'm in my final year of school. I also love sewing and make a lot of my own clothes. 🛍️❄️ Some of my favourite things while big are classic literature, animals in general but especially dogs, fashion history, swing, historic, and tap dance, and papercrafts. 🐕💐

When I'm little I like to sleep a lot. My favourite place is my bed where I can curl under fluffy blankets with all my soft toys. I especially love toys with rattles in them and any that make noises. I don't talk very much while regressed (my selective mutism gets worse while small) but when I do I mostly just use babbles to communicate 😴 My favourite things while regressed are board books and soft books, fruit and yoghurt, soft toys, rattles, comfy pyjamas, sensory toys, and fluffy blankets. I'm always very cosy and tired when small. 🤧🍀

I mostly reblog things but my own content can be found under: #beababbles for my writing or talking posts #beamakes for moodboards #beasbabies for toys and plush posts

A reminder: I will never post and do not tolerate any nsfw, harmful, or hateful content on my blog. This includes ddlg, abdl, sh, gore, and ed content. If you do post things like that please leave or you'll be blocked.

#beababbles #beamakes #beasbabies

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justawhitewall · 1 year

Note

prompt? i guess

ava has scars from the car accident, bea asks about it and she opens up? I'm just a sucker for ava angst and backstory idk ava's mother but ik i love her

“You need to shower,” Beatrice said, touching the back of Ava’s neck with a gentle hand. She was still covered in blood from the fall. It had soaked through her hair, leaving a matted mess when it dried.

Beatrice was right, she couldn’t possibly sleep in this state–not on Jillian’s white sheets that looked and felt like they probably cost a fortune. But her bones still ached with every movement, her head still riddled with a splitting pain. One of her ribs was currently rebuilding itself, smashed to pieces when her body collided with the concrete, and the process was uncomfortable at best, agonizing at worst.

Since Ava had gotten the halo, she had been stabbed, been beaten, been broken–but never quite like this. Nothing compared to this.

Ava groaned as she stood, and Beatrice was quick in getting to her side. Her eyes were still wide, the terror in them just as fresh as it was hours ago, when Ava had died. She still couldn’t fully wrap her head around the fact that she had died, again. She couldn’t imagine what it was like, what she would have felt if she was the one to hold Beatrice’s broken body, felt her lungs not breathing, her heart not beating. She wouldn’t be able to leave her side, much like Beatrice couldn’t seem to now.

“Can you help me?” Ava asked, for Beatrice’s sake as much as her own. “I’m not sure I can do it on my own right now.”

Read on Ao3.

“Of course,” Beatrice said.

In the bathroom, Beatrice let the shower warm, steam filling the air. She got a towel from the linen closet, a ridiculously large and plush thing that looked like it could wrap around Ava two times over. It, too, was white, and Ava hoped that she wouldn’t stain it.

Beatrice held it out to her, but when Ava went to take it she found she couldn’t raise her arm more than a few inches without pain. She reached for her shoulder, wincing, and Beatrice’s eyes watched her with concern.

“Must’ve broken this too,” Ava said. “Kinda feels like I broke every bone in my body, if I’m being honest.”

“You might have,” Beatrice said, voice quiet, contemplative. “You fell from a great height.”

Beatrice closed her eyes, and Ava recognized the signs of a memory playing across Beatrice’s face. She didn’t know of what–she’d lost consciousness as soon as she hit the ground, came to with Beatrice’s arms around her. What she’d missed in those few seconds she could only imagine.

“Hey,” Ava said, reaching out with her working arm. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m here.”

Beatrice opened her eyes again, swallowing thickly. “I know,” she said, then again, quieter, “I know.”

“Can you help me get this off?” Ava asked. She didn’t like having to ask for Beatrice’s help with such a simple task, but she didn’t think she could do it herself without damaging her already fragile bones further. It had been hours, and normally the halo would’ve healed her by now, but she had demanded a lot of it that day. It was probably nearly drained from reviving her.

“Yes,” Beatrice said, reaching immediately for the hem of Ava’s shirt before she hesitated. Then her fingers curled under, and she began to lift it gingerly, making sure her knuckles never brushed against any of Ava’s bruised skin. She kept her eyes dutifully downcast as she pulled Ava’s good arm through the sleeve, then passed the shirt over her head and guided it past the afflicted shoulder, all the while not touching her.

Ava’s skin was electric with it, static building with every near-brush of skin on skin.

“This too?” Beatrice asked, and Ava realized her hands had moved to the clasp of her bra.

“Well, I’m not going to shower in it,” Ava said. When Beatrice didn't move, she realized she was waiting for more direct permission. “Yes. Please, if you don’t mind.”

She heard Beatrice inhale and hold, then felt the clasps pop, one by one. There was a brief moment when Beatrice’s knuckle dragged across her skin, and Ava took in a sharp breath.

“Sorry,” Beatrice said, near whispering.

“It’s okay,” Ava said, grateful that she was facing the other way so that Beatrice couldn’t see her face, burning red. The touch hadn’t hurt, but Ava couldn’t admit that to Beatrice. She had no other explanation for her reaction. Beatrice was more careful after that, delicately removing the straps and sliding the thin fabric away. A chill ran up Ava’s spine at the exposure, but she knew that her nakedness in this moment was far from sexual. Intimate, sure–incredibly, in fact–but innocent.

Beatrice paused, and for a second Ava thought she didn’t know what to do next. Then, she spoke.

“Why hasn’t the halo healed these?”

Beatrice’s hand reached out to trace a feather-light touch over Ava’s back. She could feel the pads of Bea’s fingers move over the raised scars Ava knew she would find there–first, the one that cut a jagged line across her left shoulder blade, then the constellation of little marks that marred the skin near her ribs, and finally the one that traced the curve of her spine, courtesy of the surgeon who saved her life.

Ava had seen them for the first time after she woke from the dead, along with the rest of her body. She spent a long time looking at them in the mirror, craning her neck to catalog each wound. They looked like they would have hurt badly, if she could have felt them at the time. She wondered if it would have been worse than what she was feeling now.

“I don’t know,” Ava said. The halo had healed everything else that Ava had thrown at it.

“They look quite old,” Beatrice remarked, her hand settling against the halo. It warmed at her touch. “Are they…”

“From the accident, yeah,” Ava said.

Ava didn’t remember much from that day. It was her seventh birthday that weekend, and they’d taken the drive to Spain to celebrate. She could picture it in flashes–an ice cream cone that dripped down her hand, a carousel ride with her mother beside her, her mother’s smile in the mirror as she looked at Ava in the back seat of the car, only minutes before the crash.

Ava couldn’t recall the accident. She didn’t want to.

“I’m kind of glad they’re not gone,” Ava admitted. “They’re…they’re the only thing I have left to remind me of my mom.”

“What was she like?” Beatrice asked.

A flood of memories, heavy ones that had sunk to the depths of her mind and stayed there for years, rushed to the surface. Ava wished she could answer, but she didn’t have the energy. She needed to clean herself off, to sleep, to recover, to keep fighting.

“She loved me,” Ava said, voice soft enough that she was sure Beatrice would have to strain to hear it. “I don’t remember much, but I remember that.”

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the shower, their breathing, and the soft hum of the halo as it worked to heal her.

“Will you tell me more about her someday?” Beatrice asked.

She was glad Beatrice could sense that she didn’t want to say more, not now, not yet. Ava would tell Beatrice anything if she asked, wanted to share every part of herself with Beatrice. She wanted Beatrice to explore each place her soul had split open, to understand every nuance, cherish every quirk, soothe every fear.

But not now. Not yet.

For now, she was just the twice-resurrected leader of a group of tactically trained nuns taking on the devil incarnate who was still afraid to tell the girl she loved how she felt.

“Yeah,” Ava said. “Someday.”

They’d have time. Ava would make sure of it.

#avatrice #warrior nun #avatrice fic #prompt fill #i will probably be adding more to this and posting on ao3 later but this is what i could write on my lunch break!#i know you were probably not thinking of this scene combined with some post episode 5 trauma but you said you liked angst so :)#blood tw

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the-ferocious-kittyrose · 10 months

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William Afton headcanons that swim around in my brain like frogs in a pool filter

(Aka my third attempt at rewriting the fnaf lore)

(Based on the first four games, so no Elizabeth or magic life juice. Sorry.)

When he was a kid, his mother committed suicide and his father decided he wasn’t fit to take care of him, so he sent William to live with his aunt and uncle in Virginia for a while. “For a while,” turned out to be forever because soon after his father dropped him off, he stopped responding to William’s letters. Decades later, William got a letter saying that his father had passed and he left behind a note for him. William was so angry that his father had been alive this whole time that he threw the letter into the fire place. He instantly regretted it and tried to pull it out but it was already too burnt to read.

His uncle forced him to go hunting with him as a kid, to toughen him up. He hated the outdoors and guns, but he found gutting and skinning the animals satisfying. His uncle had to yell at him to hurry it along because he would take too much time doing it. This later evolved into him cutting himself, just so he could see the blood and layers of skin and tissue.

When he was a kid, he wanted to be a clown. He went to circus camp and later clown college. He had his clown college certificate framed next to his masters in engineering diploma. He could juggle, do acrobatics, and was well versed in stage acting.

He often suppressed his accent. He didn’t like people asking questions about his past, or really any personal questions for that matter.

His fashion sense was… loud. He wore colorful suits and sweaters with bright patterned ties. It was an eyesore, but he liked them.

He and his wife, Laura, met while she was a waitress at the diner. It was a bit weird, but to everyone’s surprise, they were married after only two weeks of dating. It was a small ceremony held in the diner, officiated by Fredbear himself.

He wasn’t a good husband. He was emotionally neglectful, pressured her into having kids she didn’t want, and found it funny to put her in stressful/dangerous situations just how she’d react. She left him for a man she had an affair with. Just packed a bag and drove off one day, leaving little Michael crying in the driveway. She tried to write letters to the boys later on, but William always hid them before they could see them.

William loved his sons. He wasn’t the best dad, but he did love them. They were part of him. He spoiled them with toys, but he was emotionally distant and often harsh, particularly towards Michael, who he had unreasonably high expectations for.

Evan was a sweet boy, but he was scared of people, including William, which bothered him a lot. He made a Fredbear plush with a mic and speaker so he could talk to Evan without him getting nervous.

William knew Michael bullied Evan. He put up security cameras in the house after Evan “fell” down the stairs, and he would ground Michael and tell him he wasn’t allowed to hang around his delinquent friends anymore. But all of William’s punishments seemed to just make Michael’s behavior worse. And it didn’t help that William was so busy with work, he was hardly around enough to enforce his punishments.

After Evan’s death, William kept the broken bloody Fredbear animatronic in his basement office. He knew Evan’s ghost was trapped inside the animatronic, and rather than destroying the animatronic to free Evan’s soul, he kept it and tried to make Evan happy inside the suit. Evan was sad, so he surrounded the suit with toys and sweet treats. Evan was cold, so he put Evan’s favorite blanket over the animatronic. Evan was lonely, so he stuffed children into the other animatronics and brought Evan/Fredbear to the restaurant, so he could play with his new friends.

The people who knew him always knew he had a screw loose. He was known around the neighborhood as, “the man in the bright purple suit who walks his pet bunny on a leash,” and, “the guy who got his ass beat and banned from the local bar, because he got too drunk and threatened the owner’s daughter,” They never suspected he was dangerous, but when the news broke that kids were missing at Freddy’s, everyone knew it was him.

William didn’t say a word the entire time he was in police custody. He barely even moved. The police said a corpse would’ve been more responsive. He just stared blankly into space and drooled down his shirt.

Henry defended William when he first got arrested, because he couldn’t believe his friend would ever do something so heinous. He only realized he was wrong after William got released and he witnessed William scream at Michael and try to stab him in anger. Henry took Michael to his house and agreed to let him stay there. When William came to get his son back, Henry told him to fuck off and slammed the door in his face.

William didn’t plan on killing Charlie. He was just going to use her as a bargaining chip to get Micheal back. Plus, Henry would have to be grateful that William saved his daughter from the cold and rain, right? He only got violent after Charlie refused to leave with him. He got angry and choked her until she stopped struggling. In her efforts to fight him off, she covered his hands in tiny red scratch marks that would never heal.

William went into hiding, but was plagued by nightmares and visions of the animatronics. It drove him mad. He couldn’t eat or sleep. Every second of every day was spent in constant paranoia that the spirits of Charlie and the others would find him and kill him. It got so bad that he decided he didn’t care if he was caught by police, he had to go back and destroy those things.

He he didn’t know the animatronics would move at night. They weren’t supposed to do that. When he saw it, he panicked and tried to flee, but they cornered him and overpowered him. They stuffed him in the Spring Bonnie suit, the suit he had worn to kill them. William tried to stay still to prevent the springlocks from going off, but the suits broken down condition, along with his heavy breathing and trembling, worked against him.

He was impaled by dozens of rusty metal bolts. He laid on the ground, writhing in pain, desperately hoping and praying for it to be over soon. But he wouldn’t die. They wouldn’t let him. He didn’t deserve to die, he deserved to suffer.

He was in that room for thirty years. Isolated, starving, and in torturous pain. By the time he was found, everything that once was “William Afton” was now gone. All that was left was a soulless feral zombie like monster that attacked anything it came across.

#tw self harm #tw cutting #william afton #springtrap #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #henry emily #micheal afton #evan afton #mrs afton

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ml-nolan · 7 months

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Aaaaaayyyyyy....remember how I said I was working on a serial? Well, here's a teaser from chapter one of...

Someone to Build Me Up

an M/M, medium heat contemporary romance featuring fake dating, strength gyms, and Shakespeare (trust me, it makes sense).

Get the full first chapter, and get updates on when, where, and how you can get the rest, by signing up here.

And here's a little excerpt!

----

"I'm Zack Carter. I'm here for Marcus?" I give him the grin that usually gets me forgiven for being a total doofus.

Instead of saying, "That's me," like I expect him to, the coach points over my shoulder. "I'm Dylan. You can check in with Swizzle Stick over there."

I turn around and spot a desk in the corner, where a figure with a black mop of hair hunches over a sketch pad. When he lifts his head, my eyes widen before I can control myself. It's the man from the coffee shop. He must be the receptionist here. I tamp down a little on the visible shock in my face before sauntering over.

His eyes flick from my head down to my feet and back again, and I automatically pull my shoulders back and suck in my gut. He grabs a clipboard and holds it out to me with long porcelain fingers. He's still dressed in his NIN shirt, but he's taken his rings off and stashed them somewhere. My eyes drift down to the snake bite piercings under his perfectly plush lips, as naturally pink as if he'd applied lip gloss this morning. I know he sees me look, and I feel heat in my ears.

Filling out the forms is a quick process, and then I hand them back to him.

"So, is Marcus here, or…?" I look around at the big, mostly empty room. Maybe he's in the bathroom, or tucked into one of the corners I can't see from the desk here.

"I am Marcus," he says. Then he stands up, and I notice his ripped jeans are replaced by black joggers and Reeboks. His voice is low as bedrock, dark as his eyebrows, hacked through by the graphite in his gaze. It throws a rock into the pit of my stomach.

"You are?"

Until this moment, his expression had been neutral, but now it hardens to granite. "The last time I checked my ID, yes. Marcus Berens."

"It's just you don't look…"

Sometimes I just really can't stop running my mouth. I wonder if they make pills for that now. Here I am, just digging this hole deeper and deeper. Right now, he gives me a blank look, making no gesture to smooth anything over at all. Normally, I'd be able to pick up the slack there, but I can't seem to do anything but stare at him.

And now I notice the way he fills out that shirt. How the sleeves are tight as sausage casing around his arms, how it's stretched taut across his pecs. He might look thin at first glance, but the muscles are there. Oh, are they ever there.

He doesn't pick up my trailed-off sentence, instead leading me closer toward the center of the room, several feet away from Dylan and Bea. It's only when he turns and levels a withering look at me do I realize I'm supposed to be following him.

"I'll show you the facility first," he says.

"This is all stuff I've seen before. Did water polo in high school," I say. Then I realize how inane that sounds. Nobody in my phase of life should be using high school as a touch point for anything. The judgment in his face reflects that exact thought.

"You'll find that your body responds differently to training than it did when you were when you were a teenager," he says, coolly.

"Well, you'd know. You're what, 22?"

"28." His jaw tightens. Clearly he's not the type who is flattered when someone thinks he looks younger than he is.

"Ah, my apologies. I didn't mean to impugn your abilities." I offer a watered down smile, then realize maybe I might seem like I'm trying to flex my vocabulary at him. "I mean, I don't want you to think that I'm—"

"I know what impugn means," he says sharply.

I bite my lip, and catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Dylan is doing a terrible job of looking like he's not eavesdropping. In fact, he might not even be trying to pretend.

"Since you seem to already understand how all this works," he says, weight shifting to one side as he lifts the clipboard and pen. "Tell me what you wish to achieve during our sessions."

Obviously I can't tell him I want to get hot for the dating apps, not even with subtle hints. So, I waffle. "Ah, you know, I'm just getting older and want to start taking better care of myself."

Not looking back up at me, Marcus sighs and clicks his pen. "Could you be less specific?"

"Dude." I can't tell if Dylan's tone is warning or pleading.

Marcus bites his lip, then looks up at me defiantly, flipping his black hair out of his face. The fact that he's about an inch shorter than me means he tips his chin up toward me like he's purposely angling for a fight. This bitchy attitude shouldn't be hot, but I'm weak for a guy or girl who can read the hell out of me.

"How about…I want to get in better shape for my sister's wedding," I say, totally pulling something out of my ass. I can convince myself it's true. It'll accomplish the same thing, right?

His lip curls, only slightly, as if he can smell how full of shit I am. "That'll have to do. Let's test your mobility first," he says.

He sinks to his knees in front of me, setting his clipboard on the ground. He gives me that heavy, judgmental look again before beckoning me to the ground with him.

This is going to be so much harder than I thought it would be.

One more time—here's where you can download chapter 1.

#M.L. Nolan #MM romance #serialized romance #queer romance #gay romance #romcom #contemporary romance #yes #this is dreamling coded #full disclosure #if you like plz rb #ilysm

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