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rosebloom431 · 1 month

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PLEASE READ THE POST I LINKED BEFORE READING THIS ONE:

Time travel AU - SMB - Chapter (1)

(Read tags)

E-Gadd was right, the lightning going away once Mario put the headset on meant that the machine fixed itself, Now Mario was in a unknown alternate timeline. He opened his eyes and found himself lying on the ground in the middle of the Mushroom Kingdom. Mario slowly stood up, dusting himself off and looking around

Immediately upon standing up and looking around, he noticed the kingdom almost looked.. deserted. It was destroyed and the castle had gotten the worst of it, it was currently getting rebuilt, only one half of it was sturdy and standing. As for the town, most of the shops and houses were rubble or destroyed as well. Except for a few Toads standing outside their little mushroom houses rebuilding and talking to one another, It was empty. It almost looked post apocalyptic outside.

(“My stars… what happened here??”) Mario wondered, very concerned for the kingdom.

Mario walked up to a Toad and tried to ask him what had happened, but upon looking up and seeing Mario, the Toad hugged Mario tight and began to scream “HE’S BACK! MARIO’S BACK!” alerting some more Toads to come out and see, they also looked shocked to see Mario, some even cheering, thrilled that Mario was ok.

Mario was immediately caught off guard by the hug and the cheering and yelling that followed. It made him think harder about what could have possible happened in this universe. Mario didn’t even get to ask his initial question before Toad’s started pouring out of their houses to see the red plumber.

“I’m- I’m happy to see you as well?” Mario said, confused, “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know if my house is still standing would you?”

The Toad that was hugging him let go and grabbed Mario’s hand

“O-Oh! Yes! it’s still standing, I can take you there if you want.” Toad answered

Mario agreed, he smiled, amongst this chaos, this only sense of normality he was going to get was seeing his brother.

He only wanted his brother.

As the Toad and Mario walked to Mario’s house, the Toad tried to carry some conversation

“I’m happy you’re going home right away” Toad started, “Your brother umm.. Louie? No— Luigi, right, Luigi. He’s been worried sick. He hasn’t left the house since the incident..”

That made Mario immediately more freaked out, partly because he had no clue what this so called “incident” was, but also for his brother. He knew that in his timeline, Luigi didn’t leave the house much due to social anxiety, but to hear that Luigi hadn’t left the house at all to the point that the towns people started to notice was very worrying to him.

“He- He hasn’t left the house at all..?” Mario said, concerned

When they made it to the house, the Toad left so that they could be alone. Mario thanked him for the help and took a deep breath, knocking on the door. The house looked the most put together on the outside then most other houses. It must have been rebuilt first. After a little while of waiting, the door slowly opened. Luigi stuck his head out and when he saw Mario, tears immediately welled up in his eyes, he covered his mouth and stood there, staring at his brother

“Hey bro…” Mario said, not wanting to say anything more, he knew he wasn’t this universe’s Mario. He didn’t want Luigi getting the wrong idea that this was his brother from this universe, But it was still Mario. He was still technically Luigi’s brother. and that’s all the green plumber needed.

“MARIO!!!” Luigi eventually screamed, tears streaming from his eyes as he hugged Mario so hard Mario fell on his back with Luigi in his arms, Luigi shook due to him sobbing as hard as he was, Mario held him tight as well, after a while, he started taking in how Luigi looked. the light in his eyes was gone, his face was stained with tears, he was so thin from presumably not eating that Mario could see his ribcage slightly through his shirt. He had eyebags under his eyes and he had hundreds of tiny little scars on each of his hands

His thunderhand.

Mario sat up with Luigi still in his arms

“Lu…” Mario started, holding Luigi’s hand up a little to get a better look, “You look….”

Luigi wiped his tears with his free hand and smiled sadly

“Terrible.. I-I know.. I’m just so happy you’re home… You were gone for months… I thought you-“

Luigi couldn’t finish that sentence before tears started to fall again

Mario thought he understood what happened, had this taken place during his imprisonment at Isle Delfino? He immediately realized that couldn’t be it. That was a long time ago and this timeline is moving at the same time his was. So what had happened to make him leave for a few months..?

“You thought I what, Luigi..? what happened?”

Luigi covered his mouth and shook his head, he didn’t want to say it

or he wasn’t ready to hear it again.

“Luigi.. please.. what happened??”

Luigi threw his arms around his big brother again, crying harder this time

“I thought-… I watched you die.”

- To Be Continued -

#TW: mention of death #TW: mention of starvation #TW: mention of scars #Time travel AU #Mario AU #smb #mario #luigi #sorry if my writing sucks

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the-fluff-piece · 11 months

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Sexy Headcanon -

How they like to go down on you

Law, Sanji, Zoro all have different techniques licking pussy

This is an 18+ headcanon, so minors don't read, don't interact

Like this one? Check out my headcanon masterlist and my Story masterlist

Law

He's fully (for his standard) clothed and stays that way

Beforehand he studied the clitoris intensively, he knows where all the sensitive parts are

He doesn't like it as foreplay. He likes leading you away to some corner in the middle of the day to yank your pants down or push your skirt up, get on his knees in front of you and lick you through your panties before moving them aside

He likes his hands under your shirt, massaging and pinching your breasts as his tongue gets to work on your pussy

He's methodical and mindblowingly slow, he knows he gets you there and likes to make to you ask for more, faster and harder

When he decides that you've begged enough, he gives it to you with all of his ability. His mouth sucking on your clitoris, stroking with his tongue and fucking you with his fingers. He also likes to remind you that there's people nearby and you should keep quiet

He loves to look you in the eyes when you cum

When you're finished and exhausted, he gives you a hot, wet kiss before returning to whatever he's been doing. He'll be looking at your reddened face with a knowing grin.

Zoro

He's a man of carnal tastes and high intensity, it's not enough for him to just pleasure you with his mouth, he likes to get his cock sucked simultaneously - so you'll have to straddle his face and get down on him, too

The man also has no sense of pacing, he starts how he feels like and if that's full force, you'll have to deal with it

Beware! The bastard bites, nibbles and sucks so hard you will definitely get marks

His wicked tongue is practically everywhere, inside and outside you. His mouth is always hot

He's grunting louder than you

He allows himself to cum only after satisfying you

Once is never enough, when he's finished with mouth stuff, he's immediately hard again and ready to fuck

Sanji

First, he always freezes and stares ar your pussy. He never gets enough of your sight. Your most tender and sensitive part, there for him to please and enjoy

He begins slowly and cautiously, he doesn't want to hurt you. His tongue is exploring every fold with slow curiosity while his blue eyes are fixed on your face to asses what brings you the most pleasure

When he found the way that makes you moan loudly, he won't stop until you come, enjoying your moans and your taste, stroking himself because it's so hot to him. It really gets him going to bring you pleasure, he moans against your flesh as he sucks and licks you with increasing intensity

Actually, he finishes first, whimpering as he comes on the sheets, but he doesn't stop, he takes your thighs into his hands to lift your hips up and becomes a wild slumbering mess. His face is pressed so closely to your pussy that you feel his beard tickling you.

When you cum for him, he's happy and exhausted and cuddles your chest to be praised

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cabinette · 19 days

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I've been feeling a little weird in my own skin lately, so i projected my thoughts onto the Touden siblings

#literally sucking on my teeth as i write this lmao #sorry if this is lowkey sloppy i just wanted to put it on paper #shoutout to everyone who's ever had a body that Feels Just Kind Of Weird #art cabinet #dungeon meshi #laios touden #falin touden #touden siblings #dunmeshi

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redundantz · 7 months

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immortal x mortal problems

#astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #sketches #im sorry you all have to deal with me being consumed by this lmao #my art #redundantz art #faetheri #my writing sucks so bad sorry #im making my hyperfixation everyones problem #astarion x faetheri

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR SIXTEEN

in which you and eddie take some time to figure each other out in the afterglow of honesty.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 2.7k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

16:00 ──────────ㅇ───── 24:00

HOUR SIXTEEN - 7:00 AM

Eddie’s favorite color is red. He likes his coffee with an obscene amount of sugar and creamer, which always leads to a regrettable stomach ache. He learned to play guitar on an acoustic six string handed down to him by his uncle, and he’s completely self taught beyond what his uncle taught him about basic notes. And his uncle’s name is Wayne. He refers to the man that raised him as Uncle Wayne.

Honesty turns out to be quite the beautiful thing in the morning light, and for the first time, you feel as though you’re truly getting to know Eddie.

It’s a give and take, an even exchange of bits and pieces of each other that are handed over without much thought. You finally have a clearer picture of the man you’ve spent the last fifteen hours straight with. A full photograph in time of who he is, who he really is, in a way that you wouldn’t have been able to fathom a week before. And it’s ironic, looking back on your relationship’s progression with him, the way you two keep skipping over steps before retracing to what was missed. How ironic you’ve let him see you at your most primal and vulnerable, but you’ve just learned his favorite color.

Eddie Munson isn’t a dick. He’s kind, he’s a huge goddamn nerd, he can be funny sometimes, his favorite color is red, but he isn’t a dick as you’ve been led to believe he was this last year.

Well, maybe led isn’t the right word. Everyone told you he wasn’t a dick. You just never listened.

Eddie’s just revealed his favorite movie genre as horror when you’re leaning forward, elbows pressing into your thighs as you ask him with a grin, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Very funny reference,” he deadpans, barely keeping his face straight as he jokingly narrows his eyes, “Especially considering it’s the Scream franchise.”

You still haven’t brought up that question of why exactly he fought for your honor after that fight. His grand reveal left you with more confusion than you ever could have anticipated, and more than this fragile friendship could handle this early in the morning. So you’d buried it down, somewhere deep inside, for the sake of the friendship.

“You can’t just say an entire franchise. Pick a favorite one, idiot.”

Friendship. Was that what this was? When was the last time one of your friends had seen you naked, or ate you out atop a kitchen counter?

“The first one. You can’t beat the classic.”

You fight your smile in a similar fashion that he is. Mirroring joy, mirroring surprise, “You’re definitely only saying that for the whole homoerotic friendship between Stu and Billy.”

“Oh, I definitely am,” he doesn’t even try to deny it as he cracks and laughs softly, “What about you?”

Even after nearly an hour of doing this, going back and forth and learning about each other, the novelty of Eddie genuinely asking you things about yourself hasn’t worn off. The curiosity that lights in his eyes, the way he leans into you to hear each word clearly – it makes you question if this was the same man who had once been so cruel.

“My favorite scary movie? I… don’t have one,” you lean back into your chair, a small huff of air escaping you from impact.

There’s two mugs of coffee on the small garden table between your chairs, having gone cold long since Eddie retrieved them for the two of you. That had been when he’d earnestly told you about his coffee preference – he’d been sweetly shy about the ordeal, bashful as he looked down at the mugs and informed you he’d tried to only put a normal amount of cream in yours, only a little bit of sugar. It had been so endearing, the way that when you asked what he meant by normal and he’d only murmured his confession of how he took his morning caffeine over the mug’s lip, you nearly caved into yourself.

“That’s impossible. No way. Absolutely not,” Eddie is animated as he waves his hands around wildly in front of him, shaking his head furiously at your answer, “I refuse to believe you don’t have a favorite scary movie, especially considering you quoted an iconic franchise. If you can quote Scream, you can tell me what your favorite is-”

You interrupt him with laughter, scrunching up your face, “Okay, first of all- Eddie, hey,” he’s still rambling, still being terribly dramatic in the flailing of his arms, so you reach over to grip the forearm closest to you. All his movements immediately cease as his eyes widen, staring directly at you in an oddity of shock, “First of all, it’s just common knowledge of pop culture. I’ve never even seen those movies,” you’re not sure if Eddie is breathing as your hand remains still tightly clasped against his forearm, and you’re not sure why he wouldn’t be, “Second of all, I’m a wimp. Scary movies might be my least favorite kind of movie, right behind apocalyptic action movies.”

When he takes a sudden deep breath, you realize he had been holding his breath, “Apocalyptic action movies?”

You begin to explain, to list examples, and you never once take your hand off his arms. You rattle off a list – 2012, The Day After Tomorrow, San Andrea’s Fault, etc. – all the while feeling his pulse race beneath his warm skin. All the while selfishly enjoying the contact, wondering how long it might take staying like this before your fingertips would mold to him. Maybe they’d eventually melt into his arm, skin molten together so that where he ends and where you begin is impossible to distinguish. A closeness with him that you had never craved so ardently before tonight, before today.

“So, doomsday movies,” he hums after you give your examples. If you were smart, you’d let go of him. It’s been too long for the contact to be brushed off as normal, “Does that mean you also hate zombie movies?”

“Nope. Those are an entirely different thing.”

“I wouldn’t say they’re entirely different.”

“They are. They’re completely unrealistic! San Andrea’s Fault… sort of… well, it could happen.”

“They’re not completely unrealistic. Some of them almost have, like, legit science behind them.”

You hadn’t even noticed that he scooted his chair closer. Or the slip of his arm in your loosening grasp, leading your hand until it rests against his wrist, so close to holding onto his own hand that rests palm up against his thigh in wait.

An offering.

“There is no logical way that one day, our world is going to turn into a real-life Walking Dead situation,” you say, trying to steady your breathing.

You won’t make the first move.

He’s leading this moment. If he wants to hold your hand, then he can take that final leap of faith.

“Have you actually seen The Walking Dead, or are you just blindly making pop culture references again?”

You can feel the thrill of his heartbeat pick up in the center of his wrist before he does it. With subtle movements, his wrist slips between your fingertips.

Only for them to be recaptured by his own knuckles. The dust settles. The warmth spreads. Your palm is pressed to his palm, your fingers interlocked between his fingers.

“I have seen that one,” you tell him quietly, looking down at your conjoined hands. His eyes are also downcast to them. The tendon in his wrist flexes as he tightens his grip on your hand, the small squeeze becoming more sure. It’s not an accident; this was never an accident.

It’s in the hair you notice on his forearm, wispy and blonde and almost comical in contrast to the dark curls that grow from his scalp. A layer of fuzz that covers alabaster skin dotted in rare and faded freckles, nearly invisible unless you look closely enough. You can see the tan line across his wrist from where he would normally wear a watch. If you follow the details further up his arm, away from the wrist now awkwardly pressed against yours in a twist, you can see the faded blue-black ink of his tattoos. That flock of bats, the most faded of his numerous additions to his skin, taunts you. You’ve already known him up close and personal in the last few hours, felt him flush against you and memorized the way his body was capable of pressing into yours, but it’s in these details that the ache arises. The sadness that you’ve never known him quite this personally before this moment, and the fear that you never will again.

An ache all because he’s let you close enough to learn the details of his skin – what a marvelous thing.

“That’s a miracle,” he mutters, fully entranced as he rubs the pad of his thumb across the top of your fingers. You’re quick to return the motion; his knuckles are far more rough than yours, and you try to count the groves in them, from long weeks no doubt, all in that brief swipe, “Or else I would have had to have insisted upon ending this lovely honesty hour, and subjecting you to a marathon.”

“We can still have a marathon.”

You’d do just about anything to remain in this position, to stay this impossibly close to him. You’re selfish and you’re clingy, squeezing his hand a little bit tighter as he had done to you, as if the grip on it reflects your grip on the moment. You can’t let it go – you can’t let him go.

No matter how you have had him, no matter how long he sits in this golden hour with his hand in yours, it will never be enough. This sudden and abruptly-arriving ache is incurable.

You want him, you need him, you bloom for him.

There’s something in his smirk as he awkwardly uses his freehand to bring his mug of too-sweet coffee to his lips that almost whispers that there’s a chance: he also wants you, he also needs you, he also blooms for you.

And so you tell him about yourself in turn. You don’t just stop at your distaste for horror or your fear of doomsday movies. You tell him how you don’t have a favorite color, how you switch it up too often and all he can do is chuckle at your indecisiveness. Once, an insecurity – now something silly to find amusement in at his side. You reveal to him your coffee preference; you take it with a normal amount of cream and just a little bit of sugar. You don’t reveal to him that before today, you’d always turned your nose up to hot coffee, an iced coffee connoisseur. Something in the sparkle of his eyes warns that he might already know. You don’t play any instruments, but you have a list of songs for him to learn, insisting that someday he’d have to play them for you on that guitar his Uncle Wayne gave him. (You can’t think too much on the way you’re once more speaking in some days with him. Your heart might burst if you do.)

You try to bare your soul, to stare down the barrel of honesty, just as he had. It’s scarier than you could have imagined. Finally, after fifteen hours, you get it.

You get it, and it only makes you squeeze his hand tighter.

At some point, he notices the way the sun is warming both of you with each passing minute, palms now sweaty against each other as he asks, “Do you want to go back inside?”

No. I want to live in this moment for the rest of my days. “We can if you want to.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Tell me what you want. You constantly do that with everyone else, you know. Let them make the decisions,” he’s smiling softly, eyes squinted against the sun now rising high in the sky, “I can’t even count the amount of times you’ve said that to Nancy on both hands. Which, I mean, awesome – Nance fuckin’ loves being the decision-maker. But we’re talking about me. You’ve never been shy about butting heads with me.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Quite the sudden high horse, Mr. Honesty.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Well, it’s honesty hour. So, here’s more honesty – I love when you give me a run for my money. Who else is going to tell me to shut the fuck up when I’m on track to ramble for hours about Lord of the Rings?”

“You want to talk honesty? I would only tell you to shut up because I might have blown my cover and you’d realize I actually enjoyed your company.”

The soft smile widens, more shameless and more radiant, “Coulda fooled me.”

“I did fool you,” you tease, and your hand slips from his, but the warmth left behind doesn’t. It’s buried deep in your bones now.

Things will never return to normal, not for you. It isn’t a bad thing – it’s only a sure thing.

“For what it’s worth…” he pauses, that smile faltering. “I enjoyed your company far more than I ever let on, too.”

Is that why you fought for me, after fighting against me?

He doesn’t let you reply, instead smacking both of his now free palms against his thighs as he moves to stand, “Anyways, I actually do happen to want to go inside,” he gestures to those faded swirls of tattoos across his biceps and forearms, “I don’t expose myself to too much sun for obvious reasons.”

“Reasons being you’re a vampire?” you tease.

“Ha-ha,” he deadpans, “Yes, it’s definitely because I’m a vampire and not because of these sick tatties.”

“Calling those abominations sick is pushing it,” you playfully counter as you scoot to the edge of the seat of the chair, unsticking your thighs from plastic, “And I knew it. Your skin is practically glittering like diamonds, Edward.”

He scowls. “So Twilight is off the marathon line up.”

He sticks out a hand, the same one you had clung to for most of your conversation with each other. You don’t take it immediately.

“There’s going to be a marathon?”

“You’ve got something better to do?”

The thought of cuddling up with him on the couch has your heart pounding. Honestly, the couch would now remain tainted for the rest of your days. You might even continue to avoid showing up to his apartment just to avoid flushing red any time you see one of your friends take a seat on the spot he once took you on, had pressed into you as your knees had dug into those cushions, as you had moaned his na-

You had to stop thinking about it before he noticed your thighs pressing together tightly.

“For the record,” he says, hand still extended, unwavering as the sun forms an aura of gold around his outline, “Honesty hour doesn’t have to end when we go inside. From here on out, I actually insist that it be on the table. One of the perks of being my friend, I suppose.”

Those are the magic words. You don’t need to immediately know why he fought for you, or why he really led you to believe he hated you for so long. You don’t need to know why he kissed you and you don’t need to know why he’d changed his tune so suddenly the first night you two met. All you needed to know was that if you wanted to know, if you ever find the guts to ask him about these things, he would tell you.

You reach out and take his hand.

Immediately, he pulls you comically hard out of your chair. When you fumble directly into his chest, he’s already chuckling and wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumble, pulling back and glaring up at him without any true venom, “Eager much?”

“Very,” he boyishly grins down at you and your heart skips a beat.

Eagerly, wildly, suddenly, comfortingly – he now occupies a space in your brain you weren’t aware existed. It almost whispers I was always here, always waiting for him.

The two of you don’t waste any time as he tugs you inside, the promise of a movie marathon awaiting the two of you.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

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#twenty four hours #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #sorry if it sucks #please be kind and if you're disappointed... do not tell me for the sake of my mental health haha

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callisteios · 5 months

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I have a new uquiz for you, go on a pilgrimage with me. discover who you are.

#don't you want to go on a nice medieval pilgrimage?#don't you want to rest a little? answer some questions? learn something about yourself?#this was originally a pentiment medieval quiz and now it's this #it's pretty good imo though. i had a lot of fun researching it #yes there really is a biblio. ill write it up soon but its parts of the pentiment biblio plus some stuff i found myself #really thank you to everyone who made pentiment. you know how sometimes you find a piece of art at exactly the right time?#well i discovered pentiment just as my interests perfectly intersected with it. (those interests being history historiography and grief)#have fun etc. tag your results #that's always great #quiz #uquiz #pentiment #medieval #mine #sorry for being absent for a bit. holidays kind of suck #sorry abbie i couldnt fit the saw bathroom in thisone. i couldn't think of a way to do it naturally #i listened to SAVED! and SINNER GET READY the entire time i was writing this so yeah there's a ref. sue me

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mediumgayitalian · 26 days

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The crooked, creaky door of the cluttered infirmary storage room pushes open and slams shut in the span of a second, just barely allowing someone to dart through. Nico jumps, banging his head on the shelf he’s hiding under, chomping full force on his lip to bite back a shout. The shadows, on lucky reflex, bend around him and shroud his face. The rest of him he tucks further into the forgotten corner between two filing cabinets, holding his breath.

Under the unflattering light of the single swinging lightbulb, Will looks dull.

A thin headband attempts to hold back his frizzy hair, although it does very little. Curls stick out oddly and many shorter hairs are plastered to his temples and the back of his neck. His skin is unusually lacklustre, even pale, except for the high flush around his cheekbones. The bruising under his eyes rivals Nico’s. He has been wearing the same scrubs for the last two days.

With one last look at the closed door, nothing but garbled voices filtering through the heavy wood, he slumps. He drops his face into his chapped and bleeding hands, heels pressed into his eyes, and holds them there for ten seconds, twenty. Slowly, with trembles so minute they are at first glance unnoticeable, his shoulders begin to shake. The long fingers flexed and tensed around his forehead curl tightly, and he twitches, whole body trembling, teeth sunk hard into his bottom lip to stop his chin from quivering.

It does not work.

The first sob is quiet. He catches it quickly, forcing it back down, breathing heavily through his nose and out his mouth to beat it back. The second follows quickly, though, and it’s harder to choke down. When his face crumples, his resolve goes with it, and his knees hit the floor, sharp crack swallowed by the stillness of the room. He curls forward until his nose nearly hits his knees, hands sliding through his hair and over his ears and settling finally clutching together in the dip of his chest, bouncing with every heave of his chest. It’s quiet, his crying, enough that every dropped tear can be heard as it hits the dusty floor. The only time his sobs are ever audible is when he opens his mouth, trying desperately to soak up enough air to catch himself, to carry himself through.

Mute horror holds Nico’s tongue hostage.

He’d escaped in here the second Will had been called away this morning, dragged for the umpteenth time to handle a crashing patient or a complicated hymn or to soothe someone’s nerves. For the past two days he’s been doing his best to monitor Nico and a handful of other front liners who’d exhausted themselves in battle, but his focus has been split and the infirmary has been crowded. Whenever he runs off to put out whatever fire had cropped up — sometimes literally — the whispers start, the glances, the skin crawling up Nico’s back. Nico can hardly tell anymore what’s the shadows and what’s the people around him, watching him out of the corners of their eyes like they’re waiting for him to bust out a scythe and a black hooded cloak and start reaping.

The storage room is supposed to be an escape. Out of the way and forgotten as it is, it is supposed to be the place he can hide for an hour, escape the heavy gaze of the rest of the camp, collect himself before braving it all again.

Clearly, though, he’s not the only one who thinks so.

There’s something disorienting about seeing Will Solace cry. In the few times Nico has spoken with him during his visits to camp, he’s been a barely-contained explosion of energy, whether talking Nico’s ear off with updates about people he barely knows and references he hardly understands or cussing him out for overextending himself. He’s used — as much as he can be to someone he’s only beginning to really get to know — to his wildly flailing hands and widely playful grin, his loud drawling voice, his painful, constant brightness.

His hands, now, clench until they’re bloodless, trembling. There is no hint of his wide smile or twinkling eyes, because his face is hidden by all the hair that his given up on the pretence of the hairband, and the only sound from him are his gasping breaths and swallowed-back sobs. Nico watches him because he cannot look away. He flinches because every cry, every rough, scraping inhale, sounds like shattering rock, like an iceberg breaking off a glacier.

A quiet beeping startles them both.

For a stretch of time Will is motionless. The beeping continues, steady and soft, bouncing off the cluttered shelves and fading before they echo. After the third round — and Nico counts, if anything for something to do besides watch the chafed skin on Will’s hands crack and bleed with every flex — he drags himself upright, nails drawing lines in the thick dust of the floorboards, and rests back on his heels. He breathes for a moment, shuddering, hands pressed flat to his face; in, beep, beep, beep; out, beep, beep, beep. None of his breaths are ever steady, but he wastes no more time, swiping under his eyes and pinching his cheeks to restore his face to some of its usual colour. He grips onto each board of the shelf to his right as he yanks himself upwards, hand over hand, until he’s stretched, finally, to stand, although there remains a slouch to his broad shoulders.

The beeping continues, emanating from the watch on his left hand, growing softer or louder as he trails his fingers over the shelves from one end to the other, from the first, the second, the third. He pauses finally on a collection of bottles, turning them carefully to read the labels, then tucks them each gently into his already bulging pockets until he is left with what he must carry between his fingers.

The shadows bend to cover Nico again as Will turns, unknowingly facing him, and pulls himself suddenly straight-backed, chin set high, shoulders squared. He smiles, wide, fractured, squinting his eyes deliberately. The beeping stops. He breathes, in, smile, out, nod, and turns, striding, back to the door, opening it with flourish and swiping the dust off his clothes.

“Found them! Sorry it took so long, I really had to look —”

The door swings shut behind him, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

Nico stares at it with bile churning in his too-empty stomach.

———

art by the incredible @clingonlikeclingwrap

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loserdiaz · 14 days

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let this be your comfort

eddie & isabel diaz | coming out | gen | 1.4k words

“You can tell me anything, you know that.” “I think, I— I'm, uh, bi.” Eddie blurts out, lets the words slip from his lips and realizes it's the first time he's said them out loud since coming to the realization himself. “I don't— That's not.” Eddie shakes his head and breathes again. “There's this term that fits me better, I think. Demisexual.” Eddie's been reading a lot. The term that has come the closest for him has been Demisexual biromantic, but the words are still hard to push out. He figures the more he says them, the more he accepts himself, it will get easier. It's a work in progress, but he's getting there. A few beats of silence and then Abuela’s hands are cupping his face and gently guiding him to look at her. “Eddito, I'll love you no matter what, okay? This changes nothing.” She says, the softest of smiles playing on her lips and her eyes shining with nothing but love and adoration. “I'm so proud of you, you know that?” or: Abuela is the first person Eddie comes out to.

read on ao3

#i wrote this in half an hour so if it sucks or there's typos.... sorry ig(?#eddie diaz #isabel diaz #eddie diaz & abuela #april writes #my writing #911 abc #911 on abc #911 fic #911 fanfic

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ilycove · 8 months

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Xyx’s hair tickled the base of your neck, his arms slithering around your waist and gripping like a vice. “I think the odds are in my favor today.”

You refused to acknowledge him for the time being. You’d asked the receptionist at the hotel you were staying very politely that you needed two beds, and here you were. In his arms. Which was nice, you loved him and he loved you and he was really warm, but it would be even nicer if he wasn’t being such a smug asshole about all of this. “This is only something that happens in bad fanfiction.”

“Oh, don’t act like that doll. You love me.”

You covered up the fond smile that was growing on your face by rolling your eyes. “Some days. Now I’m wondering why we’re even together.”

"So what I'm hearing is," he grabs your jaw with gentle fingers and places kisses where your jaw and neck meet, more smile than lips. "You admit that you love me? That you're sooo obsessed with me?"

"Oh my god," You feel laughter bubbling up in your throat and the faux scowl that once covered your face has been replaced with something more genuine. "You suck."

You feel Xyx's teeth against your skin. "And you're in love with me. What does that make you?"

"A fool."

He hums, closing his eyes and chuckling. His smirk is nothing but mischievous, you don't dare to trust him. "I was going for mental, or deranged even, but sure."

"I'm gonna punch you." You roll your eyes again and make an attempt to move your hands, but they're pinned to the side of your head before you can even go that far.

Xyx's eyes are now open and cunning. Like a devil, you think. Like a really pretty devil. "With what hands?"

Your guard is let down and you barely notice him leaning towards your face, pressing angel-like kisses all over your face. You sigh. "You suck."

"You've said that before. Are you just so in love with me you can't think right now?"

You kick him in the shin and give him a quick kiss to his lips. "Don't push it too much."

Xyx laughs and you swear to everything that is righteous and holy that it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. Your limbs are entangled and you could swear you hated him a minute ago, but when he's this pretty you forget why.

You push a strand of hair away from his eyes and he leans into your touch, kissing your palm softly. His laughter starts up again and his demonic smile returns. "Eww. You're being cringe right now."

You shove him off the bed. You remembered why you hate him.

#(⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝) – writing !#blooming panic #xyx #xyx headcannons #xyx blooming panic #xyx x reader #xyx fluff #xyx blooming panic x reader #blooming panic fluff #blooming panic x reader #bp fanfic #bloomic #bp xyx #bp xyx x reader #(4 orphii.... my boobie bear)#(this sucks. so bad. im so sorry i'll rewrite it later)#(i hate hthis bitchboy so much i need him to kiss me rn)

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drizztdohurtin · 2 months

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Rolan Headcanons: marriage and domesticity

pairing: Rolan x gn!reader

〚 Masterlist | WIP List 〛

I'm sorry if any of this feels reminiscent or repetitive of Gale's marriage and domesticity headcanons, they are very similar men, but I'm trying my best to add variety <3

I've discussed many of these with @viennacherries so I just want to throw her some credit for any of her ideas that have seeped into my brain and bled into this post <33333

-MDNI-

01. Marriage:

I struggled so hard when writing the pining and dating headcanons but now.... buckle in bitches (affectionate)

I want to be married to Rolan so bad dude

Rolan LOVES introducing you to people as his wife/husband/spouse once you're married - he is literally so proud to be married to you

not even because "Wow look at me I'm married to the hero of Baldur's Gate", but just because of who you are as a person and how much he loves you

in the beginning, whenever he hears you refer to him as your husband, his tail swishes happily and he starts purring without realizing it - it's very quiet, but you notice

after a few occurrences, you point it out to him one night because you find it so endearing - he lowkey freaks out he's like WAIT I DO??

If you don't want kids, he's completely fine with it bc he gets to be the cool uncle when Cal and/or Lia have kids

If you do want kids........ well, it's complicated (begging you to wait for my 'conceiving/pregnancy/fatherhood' hc posts because I will go into hella detail)

on one of the last nights of your honeymoon, you make a comment about how much you had been enjoying going to sleep and waking up next to him every day during your trip; making a little joke about how that wouldn't be the case once he returned to his work when you two got home

and even though it was only meant to tease him lightheartedly, and even though you reassured him of such once you saw his face scrunch in concern, it was the only thing he could think about for a while

upon returning from your honeymoon, he'd do his best to be there with you when you laid down for the night - and tries to be around for you more often, generally speaking

it doesn't work super well at first, but he's definitely trying

as per my dating headcanon post, he cooks dinner for you once a tenday as a little at-home date night - and once you're married he'll start doing it more often

after maybe 5 years of marriage he gets to a point where he's finishing his work early every single day, like before sundown, so he can cook for you or take you out to eat, and have enough time to cuddle up and read to you before going to sleep

Everyday Rolan thinks about how much he loves and cherishes you, how much you've sacrificed over the years, and how lucky he is to be your husband

based on how I paced the progression of the relationship in the pining/dating post, I strongly feel that Rolan really blossoms as a person and as a partner only once you've gotten married

Before you guys got married, obviously he was already in love with you, already cherished you, and was already comfortable around you, etc. etc.

but all of that gets so much more amplified once you're married

Fully Comfortable Rolan is such a treasure

after even 6 months of marriage, he's so much more confident in how he touches you and how he talks to you, or the things he does for you

Married Rolan is touchier, he jokes more, he laughs more, he infodumps more! he's unstoppable!

This complete security also means it's easier for him to be vulnerable with you, he's more likely to open up to you about things that trouble him, eventually coming to you about them before you even have a chance to ask him what was wrong

a lot of his "attitude" in the past came from insecurity, so Secure Married Rolan is no longer snarky with strangers (unless they suck), and he no longer feels like he has to prove himself to others

He's calmer, he's more patient, he's more likely to offer help to others

Married Rolan eventually takes on students, or maybe an apprentice or two, and he's so good with them

Married Rolan is Matured Rolan - in the healthiest way (good for him !!!)

02. Domesticity:

Rolan takes such good care of you

Due to how he grew up, he has a lot of domestic skills that would stick with him for life

Having to take care of Cal and Lia for so long, both being much younger than him, he'd know a few level 1 healing spells, he'd know how to cook, he'd know how to mend clothing and get tough stains out of fabric

that night when you return to him after defeating the Absolute, he'd heal you as many times as you'd allow him to, even though he wasn't as skilled as a cleric

there were a few times during the events of the game when you'd come to see him and he'd notice a tear in your clothes - always insisting on sewing it back up for you

and once you're moved in together, he'd mend your clothing without even telling you - you'd just realize the hole in your favorite shirt is all patched up one day

Rolan's a good cook, and he loves to do it for you

and if you cooked for him, he'd 100% do the dishes

but he still wouldn't let you do the dishes when he cooks for you

He's always cleaning up around the tower, often without even realizing it

It's second nature for him to be tidy and whatnot, but it's also because he respects the tower so much - he wants to keep it as pristine as he can

just going around and putting things back in their spots, even something as little as putting a quill back in a drawer

After he becomes the master of the tower, he spends a lot of his free time rearranging furniture and decorations or replacing them altogether to make the tower feel more comfortable for him and his siblings

I also think that seeing all of Lorr*akan's belongings leaves a bad taste in his mouth, so redecorating the tower played a part in helping him move on from the whole situation

And once you moved in with him, he desperately wanted to make sure you felt at home

He didn't see it as you living in his home - it was your home just as much as it was his

He'd encourage you to have your own office and decorate it to your liking, and he'd always ask your opinion on something before buying it for the tower

Rolan never leaves clothes on the floor, he always makes the bed, he cleans up immediately after he's done cooking (honestly he starts cleaning up while in the middle of it, too)

he always makes sure his clothes are free from wrinkles, often running his hands over the clothes he's wearing to make sure nothing's creasing, and he'll do the same to you

Rolan has always been quite responsible with money since things were always tight growing up

he probably has more money than he knows what to do with after being the master of the tower for only a year

He'd save a lot of it in case something were to happen, but he also donates a good portion of it to various causes in the city

he'd be particularly fond of the organizations that care for orphans and help young people receive schooling

#sorry if these suck again #when I start writing dad!rolan i'll stop sucking #baby boy #my writing #my hcs #rolan #bg3 #x reader #headcanons #baldurs gate 3 #fluff #brain rot #rolan posting

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aibyoutachi · 9 months

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(once again feel free to ignore me didjsns i will just force you to Think of them) souji and yosuke comparing hand sizes 😙

i ignored your prompt a little but i hope you're satisfied with this extremely awful sappy comic, my inbox knows no rest because of you (thank you for the brainworms)

#answered ask #souyo #long post #p4 #persona #my art #i got this ask two hours ago and immediately dropped everything to answer it #like this comic was beamed into my brain somehow and possessed me #more than souyo usually possesses me #me: man i suck at writing and dialogue #also me: *makes a comic that could have just been a fic*#sorry the ring is on the wrong fucking hand aughh

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hungharrington · 10 months

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looking at the sleepover prompt list and..

[ JOY ] sender getting louder than usual which makes receiver start laughing affectionately, taking the opportunity to check in.

THAT IS SO REAL!! wbk steve gets incredibly loud and honestly sounds pained when he’s about to reach o-town so having his partner giggle and check up on him is just.. CHEFS KISS!! he’d get go embarrassed abt it too you can’t even deny it

oh hey ali :) thanks for sending one in! this is so totally meant to be sweet (and it is!) but it's also like tehe, a lil bit mean MDNI this entire blog is 18+

You would think, with his face buried in your neck, Steve can't make that much noise.

That would be wrong. There's already so much noise, the subtle slap of skin meeting skin, of your thighs hitting against his with every roll of your hips and the wetness. Your slick leaks out, squelching lewdly as his cock fucks in and out, smearing it across your thighs and his. And yet, there's nothing you can hear more than Steve's raspy low moans.

He's especially vocal tonight — though you have a feeling that's because of the distance from earlier, spending a couple days apart. It makes you feel all the more hot and bothered, listening to his guttural moans that seem to be getting louder and louder. His praise, which he;s been showering you in since he worked you up on his fingers earlier, moaning about how wet you are for him, hasn't stopped either.

"Yeah, f-fuck, good fucking girl, so wet— so, fuck," His hips buckup into yours, his pace ravenous and you try match it from the top. You're bent over him, chest to chest, sinking down on his cock while Steve fucks up into you. His cock fits snug in your cunt and you're taking great pleasure in fucking out cute little noises out of him, including his pussy-drunk rambles. "S-so pretty and wet just for me, mhm. Pussy so good, this pussy's all mine."

You moan at his possessiveness, your cunt gushing at his claim on you— it eggs on another louder moan from Steve as he fucks into the new slick faster, his noises beginning to get more high pitched. You take a page out of his book.

"All yours," you whisper, just to test the water. Steve whimpers and you take it as a good sign. "M'all yours, Steve. No- uh, nobody can treat me like you, baby— no one fucks me as good as you, mhm."

Steve shudders, a loud throaty moan that gets pressed into your shoulder. He tucks his face in closer, his thrusts getting sloppier as he gets closer to falling apart, your name falling from his lips.

You rake your hand down his chest, scraping your fingernails in a way you know he loves and this time, when he lets out another loud gasping moan, you can't help the little affectionate giggle that titters out of you. He's being so loud tonight, so much louder than usual.

Steve slows his hips just a bit, digging his face out of your shoulder to look at you.

"What?" He slurs, voice sounding a bit wrecked. His cheeks are pink, his lips pinker still. You clench around him purposefully just to see him moan and revel in the cute expression he makes, eyes scrunched closed for a second.

"You're so noisy tonight," You coo at him, bringing your hand up to card through his hair. Steve surges to press a kiss to your skin as you do, his lips dropping wet kisses along your forearm. He hums at your words. "That's all, baby. You all good?"

You're so glad he's looking at you so you can see the pure rush of blood to his face, embarrassment creeping over his features. He nods a bit sheepishly.

To drive your point home, you sit up a bit to take away his hiding place and start really fucking yourself down on him. It's glorious, watching him struggle for the first few seconds of you bouncing to try contain his noises— but when the first moan slips out, whines and whimpers follow it, building in volume.

You stroke down his chest again, harder, your fingers toying with his chest hair and smirk at him beneath you. "That's it. Lemme hear it, baby..."

Steve whimpers, loud, in response.

#oof. got headache midway thur this #if it sucks don't tell me #he's kinda subby in this one... sorry my natural tendencies lmao #steve harrington x reader #jay answers #jay writes #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut

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flamingpudding · 5 months

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Thinking about writing a dpxdc batpham Christmas Story...

...but cause I am a self-conscious B with self-esteem problems when i overthink to much, I am going to let you guys judge, or if you want, use the bare base idea for yourself 🙃

This is the bare base idea:

Bruce reads a newspaper while dodging Dick and Cass, who are attempting to put a Christmas hat on him. Duke and Steph cheered on a candy cane battle happening between Tim and Damian, with Damian's just so happend to be sharpened. Thus, it's more like how long can Tim avoid getting stabbed battle. Jason and Alfred cook in the kitchen, which causes Alfred not to realize the fight happening in the dining room. And Danny watching them all narrowed eyed and poking the turkey with a long metal stick as if it would come alive and fight him any second. Before turning to them when he sees it 'twitch' and declaring he is disowning them all until after Christmas. The Bat family just stared at Danny as he left for a moment very perplexed and confused like deers in headlines.

Now the batfam is making it their mission to help him endure Christmas and Tim might let Danny in on a secret just so he no longer will be hung up on the Santa is real or not argument his parents used to have.

#random ideas #i need people to judge #a selfish question for my stupid mind #i’m sorry 😞#dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #dpxdc #dcxdp #jason todd #crossover #damian wayne #tim drake #brue wayne #batfam #batpham #should i write this?#i suck at being confident

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finntheehumaneater · 8 months

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@strangersteddierthings this is for you. (There will be more, but I have stuff to do for Environmental Science homework, and need to post something about it, so that I can’t decide to give up abandon this—so I guess this is part 1/???)

—

Honestly, Eddie wasn’t sure where he went wrong. One minute, he was sitting with Steve, watching some movie that Steve had been far too excited to show him, and then next minute he was walking home. Alone.

It had been his fault, really, and he knew it.

He had kissed Steve Harrington. He had kissed Steve Harrington. What the actual fuck had he done?

There was something in him that jumped at the chance to make a real move once Steve had said he also liked men, and something in him that wanted to curl up and die on the spot because that just made this whole situation worse. Because he liked guys, but he didn’t like Eddie, and that was all too apparent when Steve’s face went from nervous to startled, frozen in place as Eddie instantly regretted everything.

“Is this a joke to you?” Steve had whispered, his voice sounding broken, tears in his eyes as he stood up and looked over at Eddie, arms crossed over chest like he was trying to hide himself—slumped over like he wanted to disappear.

“Steve—“

“I—I’m being serious! I mean it, Eddie…do—do you know how hard this is to say? How much it hurts to admit?” Steve shook his head slightly, his eyebrows pinched together, and Eddie wanted to explain everything, but he couldn’t. He was stuck, frozen in place on the couch, wanting so badly to tell Steve what he meant—what he wanted.

But he was walking home alone. The air was cold, and it felt even colder since he had left in a hurry, excusing himself before Steve would’ve started crying, because it hurt to see him like that, so scared and devastated—like he thought Eddie was going to tell everyone. And he wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t! He would never do that—but Steve didn’t know that.

So he had left his coat, only in a t-shirt and jeans.

He was going to have to go back and get it eventually. He knew that. But he didn’t want to face Steve—to have to admit why he did what he had, and how it wasn’t a joke to him—it was never a joke. It was just easier to ignore him than to face the truth and have to tell him.

The one thing nobody ever talked about enough was how painful feelings could be.

EDIT: there are more parts, and it is finished (maybe I don’t know if I’ll expand on this in the future)! part 2, part 3, part 4

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things fanfic #I can’t believe I’m actually doing this instead of my WIP. And my science.#Let’s go I guess???#I don’t know writing is fun #Much more fun than questions about fish dying in ponds due to pollution #Sorry for the weird stopping point but I really need to do homework right now #And if I didn’t post what I had for this atm it would never get finished #So #sorry again :(#AND SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES I CAN’T SPELL #ENGLISH *IS* MY FIRST LANGUAGE BUT MY BRAIN MOVES FATSER THAN MY HANDS SO I’VE ALWAYS SUCKED AT IT #SORRY :(

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kittykai1103 · 1 year

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Soft dom Toji being your first time is a reoccurring thought for me

Warning: SMUT

“I-I don’t think it’ll fit t-toji” you say watching as he pulls his semi hard cock out of his sweats your already so exhausted from foreplay and he’s only been fingering you. “It’ll fit we just gotta keep stretching out this pretty pussy baby” he says as he begins working in a third finger, you moan out as you already feel so full. Toji begins to pick up the pace he’s fingering you at moving his fingers so they make a delicious “come hither” motion causing u to push ur thighs together slightly only for him to push them back apart with his free hand. As you lay there moaning and shaking you hear Toji making soft noises you open your eyes to see him stoking his cock while watching his fingers slip in and out of you with ease, a bead of precum leaking out the tip. Looking up to make eye contact with you he says “ your making me so hard baby, I can feel you squeezing my fingers.” At this point you can barely take it, “can you put it in now Toji. P-please.” Without saying another word toji takes his fingers out of you and lines himself up with your entrance, “ready?” He questions looking you dead in the eyes. “Ready” you say staring back at him. In one swift motion he pulls you legs farther apart and pushes into your plush walls groaning as u let out a loud moan. “Fuuuuck” he says as he settles himself completely inside of you his head falling into the valley between your breasts. After the two of you compose yourself Toji begins to move causing you to moan a few thrust later he hits that spot that causes your moth to fall open in a silent scream and your back to arch. “RIGHT THERE TOJI YES” you scream as he takes notice to your drastic shift in movement. “Right there slut you want me to keep fucking u there hmm” he says as he grabs the back of your thigh pushing it towards your chest so he can get to it easily. “ yes fuck yes” you say your voice getting higher and just barely above a whisper, Toji chuckles at your response. Toji begins thrusting into you so hard the bed frame began smacking into the wall creating a lewd song from the sound of his hips meeting yours and your voices singing together. “Toji I think I’m going t-to pee” you say feeling an unfamiliar feeling creep into your core sending static through your body all the way down to your toes. Toji already knew you were getting close from the way your pretty pussy fluttered around his cock and the cute squirming motion you began doing. “ that’s okay baby just let it all go on me” he says pushing ur legs even farther back fucking you in a full on mating press, your knees pressed squarely into the mattress. If he wasnt fucking you so hard you might have even been embarrassed you were being railed in such a position. To be honest you didn’t even know a position like that existed. a few thrusts later and you were practically screaming his name as you creamed on his cock. Your essence leaking out of your core and making its way down to your bottom. Toji threw his head back eyes shut loving the way you tightened with you released. You slumped down against the pillow letting your body relax as you felt Tojis hips begin to stutter as he came almost immediately after you with a low “fuuuuck” leaving his throat before he went still falling into your chest as your legs took purchase on his shoulders. “ how you holding up darling” Toji said head still in between your breasts after you two caught your breath for a minute or two. “ hmmm” was all you could say two busy focused on the feeling of tojis cock hardening inside of you. “ good cause I’m not quite done with you” was all Toji said before grinding his hips against yours.

#jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #this was my first time writing something on here sorry if it sucked :’)#I quite literally love this man #jujutsu kaisen #Toji fanfic #toji x reader #Spotify

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