#-Little Guy if the kit is larger than him.

[donelywell]

February 29- March 2 2024

The first time Sonic went Super in Road Trip wasn't exactly as stunning to Tails as other au's and stories.

Tails is like maybe 5 here (I'm not actually that organized on the timeline for this au yet, I'm getting there though, things are getting in order.) and he wasn't forced to grow up and be a hero in this au. So he's a bit more childish than canon Tails because he doesn't feel as pressured to mature and grow up fast. Plus, he genuinely thinks Sonic is going to die and this is the last time he see's him, so tears are bound to come down.

Part 1

[stxrr-strxckk]

Shakedown, 1979 1997!

(General South Park Headcannons)

A/N: Just some silly little headcannons of our favorite main 3 boys! These are non romantic but I can make romantic ones too if y'all want! Cartman isn't included in this except for little cameos he makes in the other hcs.

Any warnings?: Cartman being Cartman, a lot of swearing (obviously), Cartman is just really antisemitic.

What's on the record player?: 1979; The Smashing Pumpkins

Stan Marsh...

✭Stan and Kyle are super close in height. Like, down to the millimeter. You know how some people get measured against wood beams and there's little marks for each age? Stan and Kyle have one they share in Stan's house. Blue marks are Stan, Green marks are Kyle. He made Kyle keep his hat on when they measured since his hair gave him extra height.

"See? I'm taller!" Kyle grinned triumphantly.

"No way, dumbass. It's just that stupid fucking hair, right Cartman?" Stan looked over at his friends for approval.

Cartman nodded. "Yeah, it's that jewey ass hair, Kyle. It makes you seem taller and your nose seem smaller." Kenny's muffled snickers could be heard through his jacket.

"That isn't true, fatass!"

"Yeah stop making fun of his big nose Cartman, he can't help the fact he looks like his bitchass mom." Stan laughed, and Kyle shoved him.

"Hey! Not cool dude, that's my mom you're talking about!"

"Okay, okay, just push your hair down so we can prove I'm taller."

"No way man."

✭Once he gets older, Stan grows facial hair crazy fast. He has to shave every 2 days, at least. One time his razor broke and he had to wait until he got paid to get a new one. He grew the ugliest mustache known to man and Cartman started calling him Chewbacca. His mom said he looked just like a younger version of his father, and that's when he knew he had to get rid of it soon as possible. He wound up finding a waxing kit and tried to get rid of it that way. Long story short, he wound up with half a mustache and burns all over his upper lip. His mom had to let him use her razor to get rid of the rest of the hair. He refuses to touch any kind of wax now.

✭Listens to bands like Weezer and Blink 182, convinced their songs are made for him. "It's just like my life-" no it isn't. You're just a loser.

✭Not a very athletic guy. He's tried every sport under the sun(his parents made him), they're just not for him. He tried drama club too; hated the acting but liked the tech aspect. He ran spotlight for a few productions but ended up quitting because of how much the other guys made fun of him.

✭He had to play cello when he was younger, and quit the moment he started high school. He still knows a few songs and was pretty good.

✭He's insecure about his thick eyebrows and nose. He has a greek nose and thinks it's a lot larger than it is. Kyle judges him every time he starts talking about it.

"No, it sticks out so much! See?"

"You're joking, right?"

"No, it's so noticeable!"

"Dude. At least yours is straight. Mine is hooked. Hooked. You think I like this fuckin' thing in the middle of my face? Hell no!"

✭Whenever he's pissed at Kyle he ends up complaining to Kenny since he can keep secrets better than Cartman (and because people can never tell what Kenny's saying)

"And then he said 'grow up Stan, it's not too big a deal!' Like he wasn't just hung up about some girl rejecting him- At least me and Wendy actually dated! You know who wants to date him? No one! He's never even had a girlfriend. Yeah, you know that girl from Canada who he talked to online for a whole year before she ghosted him? That was a fake account me and the guys made to troll him. He never realized. And what's funnier is that-"

"Dude, you've been talking for like, ten hours. I need to get to sleep, it's a school night.

"Right. Sorry. But can I just say-"

"Out."

"Alright, I'm leaving. But Kyle's such a dick, he won't even stand up to his mom for me-."

Kenny has to push him out the door and lock it so he can't get back in. Then Stan and Kyle make up a week later and everything goes back to normal.

✭Was actually convinced he had superpowers when he was younger, around 5 or 6. He predicted it would rain once and all of a sudden he thinks he controls the weather. He told the guys and when they called his bluff he got super pissed and made everyone on the playground watch as he used his weather powers to try and make lightning strike. He ended up falling off the monkey bars and he now refuses to go anywhere near them.

Kyle Broflovski...

✭Puberty hit him like a truck. And not in a good way. All of a sudden he's 8 inches taller, growing a ratty mustache, with some of the worst acne and and a voice that cracks like no other. (Cartman makes fun of his voice until his starts cracking too. The hypocrisy is wild.) He was also the first in the group to start puberty. He thought he'd feel so mature and cool but ended up hating it.

✭Thankfully, now that he's taller he can actually play basketball without getting blocked by everyone. He's the tallest in the group, around 6'2 or so.

✭He has prescription glasses but never wears them because he thinks they make him look dorky. They do, but that's only because his mom picked out the thickest frames so they wouldn't break easily. When he's wearing glasses, he looks like Bart Simpson in the episode The Last Temptation of Homer, when he gets all nerdy and shit. Kyle even has the orthopedic shoes to boot.

✭He runs a dnd campaign for him, Stan, Kenny, Tweek, Craig, and Token. He used to invite Cartman but after his millionth tantrum they decided it was better without him. Kyle usually dms and sometimes writes a few of his own oneshots for the gang to do.

"Okay, as you trudge through the jungles of Chult, an animalistic cry pierces the air. Everyone roll an intelligence check!"

"This better not be another one of those dinosaurs," Stan groaned. "I just got mauled by one back there."

"Roll perception and you'll find out!" Kyle replied with a grin. "The tomb isn't far, guys. This should be one of your last encounters."

"Wait, we're not even at the tomb yet?!" Tweek's eyes widened. "We've been in this jungle for days!"

"I told you guys Tomb of Annihilation wasn't going to be an easy adventure." Kyle shrugged, before going back to business. "Okay; Craig and Token: while the rest of your party shrugs it off as just another monster you'd rather not deal with right now, you two recognize the call as a Hydra's- and it sounds hungry."

"A hydra? Dude, we are so fucked!" Stan yelled.

"Those things have like, 20 heads! Oh fuck!" Tweek added. A residual groan was heard around the table as the boys realized the danger they were in.

"This sucks ass, Kyle. How'd you talk us into this adventure? We shoulda done Curse of Strahd..." Token complained.

"Mm hmm!" Kenny agreed, crossing his arms.

"Come on guys, I believe in you! It doesn't even have that many hit points!"

"I hate to admit it, but we could really use Cartman's fireball right now." Craig sighed.

"Hey, we all agreed. He's never invited back. Not after the massacre..." Kyle shuddered.

"You're right. We'll just have to hope Princess Kenny can charm this thing." Stan nodded.

(Little bonus: Stan is a fighter, Token is a warlock, Craig is a ranger, Tweek is a paladin, Kenny doesn't have a main class he likes but mostly plays rogues or bards. Kyle usually plays as a sorcerer when he's not dming and when he's invited Cartman plays a wizard.)

✭Kyle doesn't seem like it but he actually is kind of strong. Yeah he's lanky and uncoordinated, but he can throw a pretty good right hook. He's done boxing for years. Started because he wanted to get Cartman to quit making fun of him. He's pretty fast too- he tried track out in middle and high school. He's good at jumping hurdles because of his long legs.

✭He has braces and the amount of food that gets stuck in them is criminal. He starts carrying around a little compact (the ones with two mirrors) just to make sure his teeth are clean after lunch and Cartman calls him gay for it.

"Wow Kyle, I didn't think you could get any gayer but here we are." Cartman said at lunch as Kyle whipped out a little compact.

"Shut up fatass, I'm just making sure I don't have food in my teeth like you always do."

"Ey! I do NOT have food in my teeth, thankyouverymuch." Cartman crossed his arms in a huff.

"Yeah, cus you're too busy eating everything that gets stuck in your mouth, fatboy." Stan said, Kenny laughing in agreement.

"I already told you, I'm just big boned! You're just jealous that my mom cooks me good food, not that jewey stuff Kyle always has."

"Fuck off Cartman, you'd probably eat that too."

"Yeah, no way dude. I like my food American, thank you very much."

"Dude. That's so racist."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is it racist to want to eat normal, all-American food?

✭Hear me out on this one: He's fluent in brainrot. Says skibidi on the regular, refers to himself as a sigma rizzler, all that shit. Since he has to babysit Ike all the time he's pretty caught up on gen alpha slang (Ike watches skibidi toilet unironically. He makes Kyle watch it with him). He started using it around Cartman who was convinced he made it all up. Him, Stan, and Kenny had a field day with it.

"Dude, that's so skibidi!"

"Kyle. What the fuck are you saying."

"You know, skibdi. Like, the thing on tiktok?"

"Don't tell me you don't speak brainrot, Cartman."

"I- I do too! I just... Didn't understand Kyle with his gay ass voice.

"My voice isn't gay, you gooner!"

"Hey! I'm not the gooner, you are, you... gooner!"

✭He barely ever gets haircuts. When he does, his mom just puts a bowl on his head and cuts it herself. It's part of the reason he started constantly wearing his hat. If you've seen that scene from pen15 where Maya gets her hair cut, it's just like that.

"Mom, you promise you won't go too short this time?"

"Of course bubby! It'll look the same as always, I promise."

"Mom- the clippers-"

"Shh, I know Kyle, just trust mommy."

"But the guard-"

"Trust mommy, Kyle."

"It's not the right one- it's too short-"

"No, it's okay! Trust me, I've done this more times than I can- oh."

"What? Is it bad?"

"Uh- bubby, just remember, you have a very handsome face, and if any of the boys say anything about your hair-"

"Oh, no. It's bad."

"No! No, it's just- it'll take some getting used to."

"Let me see. Where's the mirror?"

"Uh- maybe it's best if you just... Put your hat back on..."

✭He can't talk to girls for shit. Resorts to online chatrooms to try and flirt. Has gotten catfished 13 times. At least 3 of them were Cartman.

"No, Stan, I swear! She's real! Her name's Daisy, and she lives in Florida. She says she really wants to meet me, too! So I saved up for months and sent her 1500 for a first class plane ticket here. Check it out, she's pretty cute, right?"

"...Dude. That's Taylor Swift."

"Again?!"

Kenny McCormick...

✭He's a biter. And I don't even mean in a "ooh so freaky and kinky" way, I mean in a "he once bit Cartman so hard he peed his pants and refused to be within 5 feet of Kenny for a week."

✭When he gets older he ends up growing his hair out into a kind of mullet-wolf cut thing, he looks like Kurt Cobain.

✭He's actually pretty smart. He just doesn't think school is that important for him and doesn't wanna try too hard and get unwanted attention for being smart. Purposely gets Bs and Cs so his friends won't beg him for answers.

✭starts giving himself piercings once he's older. He's too poor to get them from a professional so he just uses old needles and snow to numb the pain. They almost always get infected.

✭Draws penises on his friends homework so they get in trouble when they turn it in.

"Yeah, and then she was all like- Dude!"

"What?"

"Again? Mr. Garrison is gonna collect this any second! You really had to draw a dick on it?"

"Heh, you gotta admit stan, it's pretty funny."

"Shut up fatboy, he drew it on your paper too."

"Wha- hey!"

✭He's a scrappy fighter. If a kid tries to fight him, he's biting, scratching, hair pulling, everything. 9 times out of 10 he wins and the other kid winds up absolutely wrecked. Once head-butted someone so hard he knocked out the kid's teeth. Now nobody fucks with him.

✭He was the only member of Moop who actually stuck with making music after the whole strike. He's the most musically inclined of the main 4. Wrote a few of his own songs but most of the lyrics were about loving boobs and pussy so record companies didn't end up signing him.

✭We all know he plays drums, but he also started learning electric guitar when he started his solo career. Can't sing for shit though (unless it's opera), so he tries using autotune. It just makes him sound worse.

✭He's the only member of the main 4 who's nice to Butters. Not just because he feels guilty he's a loser, but because he actually enjoys hanging out with him and how genuinely nice Butters is. The two are actually pretty good friends, Butters gets his mom to pack him extra food he gives to Kenny so he and Karen don't end up going hungry.

✭Was 100% the kid who taught everyone what sex was. Also brought his dad's nudie mags to school and showed all the guys.

"Gross, dude! What is that?"

"I dunno, I found it in my dad's room. All the girls inside are showing their boobs! Check it out!"

"Eww, why are they so pointy?"

"Because, Kyle, girls boobs start out pointy and then, once they turn 30, they get all saggy, like your mom's."

"Gross, dude! Don't talk about my mom's boobs."

"Yeah, don't talk about Kyle's mom's saggy boobs Cartman."

"Stan!"

"What? I'm defending you!"

"Hey guys, you wanna know how babies are made?"

✭As he gets older he starts to see through all of Eric's bullshit like the other guys, but still supports his ideas more than Stan and Kyle. He doesn't wanna just abandon him.

✭Amazing with kids. Shockingly so. He basically raises Karen on his own, so he knows how how to deal with kids better than the other guys. He tried to start a babysitting business after he realized how much money he could make, but if fell apart after Cartman joined and started to get the kids he babysitted involved in a ponzi scheme.

"Cartman, you did WHAT?"

"Nothing! I just had an idea..."

"Oh god, we're screwed."

"Cartman, WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"I just thought, if people invested in our business we could get them to keep hiring us, and we can get them to invest by making them give us money in exchange for more money back, and instead of actually giving them our money, we'd just give them other people's money who also invested, and then we'd have infinite money!"

"Cartman you dumbass! You ruined my business! We're bankrupt now!"

"Ohhh, I'm sorry Kenny! I just wanted to get us infinite money! But I guess if you don't need my genius ideas, I'll just start my own babysitting business and steal all your clients. Is that what you want?"

"If it means you'll leave us the fuck alone, then yeah."

A/N: Hope y'all like these hcs! I'll probably make romantic ones soon. I'm already working on some more South Park stuff, I got a few requests I'm really excited to write! Please like, follow, and repost! XX, Starr!

Wordcount:2747

[i2rizz]

Underground Fight Club AU! Pt.1

Fandom: Blue lock

Characters: boxer!Nagi x reader

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The underground fight scene was always a chaos-fueled mess of shouting, sweat, and adrenaline. The air in the dimly lit basement venue was thick, the crowd packed shoulder to shoulder around the makeshift ring, where two fighters circled each other like predators. The sharp clang of fists meeting skin reverberated, punctuated by roars of approval from the audience.

You stood by the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, trying to keep your expression neutral. It was hard not to wince every time the larger fighter landed a hit, even though you knew Nagi Seishiro—your boyfriend—was more than capable of handling himself.

“Relax,” Reo said beside you, leaning casually against the wall. He always looked unbothered, but that smirk of his showed he enjoyed these fights a little too much. “Nagi’s got this in the bag. As always.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like watching him get punched,” you muttered.

Reo chuckled, but you barely noticed, too focused on the ring.

Nagi moved like a shadow, his tall frame deceptively agile as he dodged his opponent’s strikes. His silver-white hair was slightly disheveled, sticking to his forehead as he danced around the other fighter with a bored expression.

You had no idea why Nagi fought in these underground matches—he didn’t care about the money or the glory. He claimed it was “something to do,” a way to stave off boredom. And yet, as much as he downplayed it, you couldn’t deny the sharp focus in his eyes when he fought.

The other guy—a heavily muscled brute with tattoos snaking up his arms—lunged forward with a wild swing. Nagi sidestepped effortlessly, almost lazily, before landing a quick jab to the man’s ribs. The crowd erupted in cheers as his opponent stumbled, clutching his side.

“See?” Reo said smugly. “He’s fine.”

You shot him a glare. “I’ll believe that when this is over.”

It didn’t take long for Nagi to finish the fight. With one last devastating hook, his opponent crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain. The referee stepped in to call the match, raising Nagi’s arm in victory. The crowd roared their approval, some chanting his name as others scrambled to collect their winnings.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and pushed your way through the crowd to meet him.

Nagi was leaning against the ropes, his expression as unreadable as ever, though you noticed the slight grimace when he rolled his shoulder.

“You good?” you asked, your voice softer now.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone as casual as if you’d asked him about the weather. “Just a little sore.”

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s get you patched up.”

------------‐-------------

The two of you ended up in a quiet corner of the venue, away from the noise and chaos. You sat him down on a battered wooden bench and pulled out the small first-aid kit you always brought to his fights.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you said as you carefully cleaned a cut on his cheek.

“Do what?”

“Fight. Risk getting hurt.”

He tilted his head slightly, his lazy gaze meeting yours. “It’s not that bad. And it’s kinda fun.”

You rolled your eyes, pressing a little harder than necessary with the antiseptic wipe. He winced but didn’t pull away.

“Fun? You call getting punched in the face fun?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I lose.”

“That’s not the point, Sei.”

He sighed, his large hands resting on his knees. “I don’t get why you worry so much. You know I can handle myself.”

“I know,” you said, your voice quieter now. “But I still hate seeing you get hurt.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just watched you with that calm, unreadable expression. Then, slowly, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re too nice, you know that?” he murmured.

“And you’re too reckless,” you shot back, though your cheeks warmed at the gesture.

Once you finished patching him up, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the distant noise of the crowd fading into the background. Nagi leaned back against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him, while you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice softer than usual.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

You tilted your head to look up at him. “For what?”

“For always being here. For... caring.”

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made your chest tighten. Nagi wasn’t the type to express his emotions often, so moments like these felt rare and precious.

“Someone has to look out for you,” you said, smiling softly.

He turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead in a fleeting kiss. “Guess I’m lucky it’s you.”

You didn’t reply, instead letting the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his breathing ease the lingering tension. In that moment, under the dim lights of the underground venue, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t matter.

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I enjoy writing for bllk a lil too much.. btw this will have smth like parts of this au where i write it w diff characters!

[0vergrowngraveyard]

The day had started pretty average all things considered.

Eggman had decided to attack yet another poor, defenseless village but at this point, that was pretty common (as depressing as it was to admit).

It was a peaceful little spot. The village was pretty small and had its own little beach a few miles away. Why the doctor had decided to attack this place out of any village on Mobius was beyond Sonic but hey, why question the bad doctor’s plans when he can just wreck them?

Which is exactly what he and his team, Tails, Knuckles, and Amy, were doing. Knuckles had decided to get off his island and pay everyone a visit for once in his life so when word got out about Eggman’s attack, Sonic had to bring him along.

Y’know, just for some fun.

The gang had managed to drive Eggman’s attention away from the village and solely onto them. Sonic, Knuckles, and Amy took care of the badniks on the ground while Tails handled a few of the larger flying ones in the Tornado.

At this point, they were just fighting on the beach. It wasn’t ideal for the hedgehog, but it was away from the village at least, and that’s all that mattered. He could begrudgingly sacrifice a bit of comfort in order to keep the people safe.

Didn’t mean he wouldn’t audibly complain about it though.

“Why’d you have to choose a beach to fight at, Eggy? D’you know how hard it is to get good traction on sand?” He charge up a homing attack and shot through three buzzbombers, “Actually, now that I think about it, you probably wouldn’t!”

“Aren’t you the one who led us over here?” Knuckles asked, punching a hole straight through a badnik and tossing it into another one which exploded on impact.

“Maybe, but Eggman’s the one who attacked the village so it’s ultimately his fault!” Sonic responded. Knuckles couldn’t argue with that.

Amy slammed her hammer into the ground, a shockwave taking out at least six of the robots. “Is it just me, or are there a lot more badniks?”

Sonic paused and looked around.

Yeah, there were definitely more than usual, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle!

He pulled up his communicator, “Yo Tails! How’s it going up there?” He asked his brother. The Tornado was flying over the ocean, keeping a lot of the flying badniks away from the ground fight.

“Not too bad!” He pulled on the yoke, driving the plane upwards as two bots crashed into each other. “What about down there?”

“Easy peasy!” He pulled his hand away to spindash through a bot before continuing, “Though it doesn’t exactly reach lemon squeezy criteria.” He held back a snort as he heard the kit groan.

“You sound stupid, I hope you know that.” the fox said.

“I second that,” Knuckles added, “though I’m not entirely sure what this fight being simple has to do with peas or lemons.”

This time, Sonic did laugh, to which Amy spoke up about, “Leave him alone, Sonic. It’s just a saying, Knuckles!”

“Once again, your figures of speech make little sense. Why do they all involve food items?”

Sonic opened his mouth to quip back at the echidna when an explosion rang out, echoed in the communicator.

“As much as I’d love to participate in explaining Mobian phrases to Knuckles, things are getting a little dicey up here! I’ll talk later!” Tails said, performing some tricky maneuvering around a few bots as they exploded.

The Tornado had been getting further and further away from the shore.

“Alright bud! Be careful!” Sonic said, taking notice of how far the biplane had suddenly gotten.

“You too, guys!”

“Don’t know the meaning of the word, lil’ bro!” The hedgehog responded as he lowered his communicator, bringing his attention back to the fight at hand. He could almost hear the kit lecturing him about his hypocrisy from the biplane.

The fight on the ground went on for about 10 more minutes. The three had started making a game out of it. Who could throw/smack Sonic into the most badniks in a row? Amy ended up winning when she sent him flying through five badniks in a row croquette style. Her reward was bragging rights, of course.

As Sonic was recovering from being tossed around like a ball for the past few minutes, he decided to have a chat with the old doctor.

“Ayo, doc! You’ve been a little quiet!” He yelled out, “Is this a defeat silence or a disappointed silence or-“

“Quiet rodent. I’m waiting for the finale.” The doctor said, pressing a few buttons on his control panel and muttering something under his breath.

Sonic laughed as Knuckles and Amy walked up behind him, the former keeping his eyes on the Tornado as it was still fighting off a few of the bots.

Were they getting more aggressive?

“Finale? You mean when I knock you on your butt and—!”

(It all happened so fast.)

There was an explosion, a big explosion. It was loud enough to echo through the entire area (or had it just been amplified in his mind?).

He didn’t register Knuckles cry out and bolt towards the shoreline. He didn’t register Amy pulling up her communicator and screaming at the person on the other end to respond. He didn’t even register Eggman’s triumphant laugh as he said words the hedgehog couldn’t hear.

The world moved in slow motion as he turned his head towards the water just in time to see the flaming body of the Tornado crash into the ocean, sinking to its depths.

Time froze. The world around him muted. He stared at the spot the biplane had crashed.

(It happened too fast. Everything just needed to slow down.)

He couldn’t breathe. A suffocating sense of dread blindsided him, smothering him alive and he didn't have the strength to fight back. His heartbeat pounded in his ear and his legs itched to run.

To run away from the entire scene. To run and not look back because maybe, just maybe, if he didn’t look back, that would mean it never happened. That everything was fine. They would go back to the workshop later and bicker and have movie nights and play fights. They’d complain about one another’s habits and laugh together.

He’d lecture the kit about his sleep schedule (or lack thereof) and drag him to his bed. He’d tuck him in and the kit would later wander into his room after having a nightmare and the two brothers would snuggle up together, fighting off the bad dreams that tormented the little fox in his sleep.

That would all happen. It would. It had to.

It had to because if it didn’t, that would mean Tails was really…

Tails was…

(He just needed the world to slow down. Just this once. He wasn’t ready to catch up yet.)

He didn’t realize he had walked waist deep into the ocean with Amy having to hold him back. Knuckles had tried to swim to the wreckage but soon realized it was a fruitless endeavor.

The crash had been too far out.

There was no way to get to Tails.

All Sonic could do was stare out across the body of water he feared so intensely. It was a fear that was ingrained in him.

The ocean didn’t care about who or what was in its depths. If it wanted to keep you there, it would, and there wasn’t much you could do about it. Especially someone like him who sank instead of floated.

The dark depths were always out for him, wrapping its hands around him and tugging him further and further down whenever the opportunity made itself known. It was like the ocean was determined to make itself his final resting place. It joyfully filled his lungs with water and never allowed him up for air.

There was one person he could rely on to get to him before the water did. One person he knew that could fight off the thing keeping him down.

But that one person had just had his small body grabbed and dragged under by whatever malevolent force lived in those waters. Never to resurface.

It was as if the ocean was laughing at him. Annoyingly tapping at his waist with waves as if to say, “Hey, look what I just did. Did you see that?”

Of course he saw, how could he have missed it?

How could he miss the sight of the biplane he took with him from Christmas Island, the plane that allowed him to meet the kit in the first place, crashing in a flaming wreck and sinking to the bottom of the ocean, taking his little brother along with it?

The waters laughed at him.

They bragged about how they were the ones holding the kit instead of him. That their hands were running throughout the fox’s soft, golden fur, surrounding him in his final moments.

They teased him about how he’d never be able to hold him again. His hands itched with the feeling of his kit’s fur beneath them. He wanted to find him, to rescue him from his captor. Even if he was taking his final breaths, he wanted them to be in the arms of someone the fox trusted more than life itself. To tell his kid how much he loves him and how much he meant to all of them. That he would be missed.

But the kit was alone.

And that’s exactly how the ocean wanted it.

…

Knuckles didn’t know how much time had passed and frankly, he didn’t care.

He didn’t want to think about it because if the kit hadn’t gone quickly in the initial explosion, then the alternative would’ve taken time. Minutes he could’ve spent swimming to get to him. He should’ve been able to get to him. He was an incredibly fast swimmer, he should’ve been able to get out there.

As the seconds went by, the already cavernous pit in his stomach grew tenfold. He tried not to think about the fox kit who was alone in the cockpit of his beloved biplane, possibly conscious and just waiting for his time to come.

He didn’t want to think about the youngest — one of his first friends, someone he had grown to consider to be a younger brother just as the hedgehog had — in that scenario. It wasn’t right, not after all the kit had done for them.

He had managed to pull Sonic a little closer to the shore. The blue hedgehog had fallen to his knees, no longer being able to carry the weight of what just happened. It was haunting, the way he just stared at the horizon. Never in his life did he think he’d see the hedgehog in such a state of despair and defeat.

Then again, he never even began to imagine something like this happening. Not to Tails.

He pried his eyes off of the grief stricken big brother and looked beside him.

Amy wasn’t doing much better, her head was in her knees, fist clenched and body tense as she cried. She was sobbing her heart out. He could only imagine the thoughts going through her mind.

He looked at the sand in front of him and closed his eyes out of respect for the kit, a few tears he didn’t even know had formed slipped down his cheek. His mind flashed with memories of the fox kit, from the one of him first arriving to Angel Island with his hyperactive yet silent blue brother all the way to the call just a few moments ago.

It wasn’t right, they (Sonic) had just been teasing the echidna about his lack of knowledge for common Mobians phrases. How could this have happened? Why did this happen? Why was there no heads up or warning? It was all so sudden and they didn’t even have time to process anything.

Knuckles knew it was foolish to question why people died, he was the last of his kind for crying out loud, he should be used to this.

Except he wasn’t. The kid may not have been an echidna, but he was still part of his tribe. His family. They all were.

And their tribe had just lost their youngest. Their little golden ball of sunshine. The kid who could brighten an entire area with his laughter and knock someone’s ego down several pegs at the same time. The kid he for the longest time just assumed was magical because of how skillful he was with machines, creating their communicators out of seemingly nothing just so they could stay in contact with each other. He created incredible defensive mechanisms and weapons just to keep people safe. He was only 8 years old.

He had done so much for them, and this was how they repaid him? How the world repaid him?

How dishonorable.

[wulvercazz]

🐇 Bunny AU🥚 ~

Smutty sort of drabble, sort of headcanon rambling about the AU below💕 See the full uncensored art here~

Edit: had to make the berries biggER lmao is thIS BETTER MR TUMBLR?

In this AU Easter is handled by a species of humanoid rabbits who lay eggs (and a few subspecies I'll mention later on). Each generation a kit is born within the noble families with the ability to lay Easter eggs. (Normally, only pregnant bunnies lay one or two larger eggs.) This kit, then, is taught everything they need to know to inherit the job after the current Easter Bunny passes.

Grimmjow is one of the youngest to have inherited the job, but he is damn good at it, if you ask him. He has little complaints, really. Apart from laying a large clutch of smaller pastel colored eggs every month (which, ok, that can be a little tiring), his work is only actually hard in April; the rest of the year, he gets to have as much fun as he wants. Sure, the guards, and maids, and all the other servants (that the Oh So Wise Elders think he has to be babied by) fuss over him a bit too much, and follow him around a lot; and that gets annoying from time to time, but it still has its perks. Like, choosing his own personal guard himself.

His father wasn't so sure about his pick, but what could he do but accept The Easter Bunny's wishes? Ichigo was a rookie, and, as all guards, part of the subspecies of rabbits called 'Chocolate Bunnies'. Grimmjow thought it was a corny name at first, when he was a kid. But after years of being the only kit being tutored within the rooms of the Easter castle, and having the opportunity to watch the guards up close, he had to agree that it was actually pretty straightforward. All guards were chocolate bunnies. They always smelled like chocolate, and their fur was always warm toned; in colors that varied from off-white to dark brown. The reason he chose Ichigo, though, was simple: he wanted to have fun with him.

He got to attend the guards' initiation ceremonies (he had to attend ALL important ceremonies, really), which is where he saw him for the first time. It was a small event, pretty boring. He would've bailed, like he did most times; but once he saw the newbie he had to stay and learn his name. Now that he had him, he knew he'd made the right choice. Ichigo smells of the darkest melted chocolate, and his skin is warm all over. He has that newbie attitude still, a little too loud but worried to do the wrong thing. He was blushing the brightest red when his superior brought him to his office; asked twice or thrice if they were sure they had the right guy.

Ichigo’s first impression of Grimmjow was... that he's not what he expected. The Easter Bunny looked proper, composed, handsome and just overall cool from afar. He always dressed nice as it was customary. But from up close, Ichigo could really see how young he was; maybe his own age, or barely a couple years older than him at most. As close as he could stand now, inside his office, while he watched him work, he looked as serious as you’d expect the Big Boss to be; the second he removed himself from work though? He smirked cockily, and played around too much. 

He liked lighter clothing, comfortable shorts and soft fabrics he used to lounge around his room. Which he isn’t supposed to be in, as a guard, but of course Grimmjow had insisted he do so. He couldn’t say no. What he seemed to enjoy the most, however, was to mess with his job. Ichigo wasn’t sure if it was a test of sorts, challenging his determination see how long he could keep his head cool. As time went on, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Sometimes the taller bunny would stand too close (not that that bothered him anymore), and he’d whisper into his ear. Even after a month of being his guard, that still never failed to send chills down his spine. And worst was, he’d whisper things he’d never expected from him; he’d make fun of the other nobles, how uptight they were how ridiculously they’d dress for appearances sake. He’d tell him gossip he’d learned about them, and often it was hard not to break and laugh.

It wasn’t all bad though, he didn’t hate his job as much as he thought he would when it all started. He realizes now that maybe he took it too seriously, and probably that’s what had Grimmjow so amused. Back then Ichigo had tried to take his job with honor, be the best guard he could be for him; but Grimm made it very hard. He had to escort him places sometimes, when he was needed, and Grimm would always try and bail. Sometimes going as far as to try and take him with. Grimmjow wouldn’t be punished, of course, no more than a quick talk with the Elders, but him? Ichigo could lose his post all together.

Grimm only grinned mischivious little smiles at him. He used to get pissed off every time, try his best to convince Grimmjow not to bail, take his job seriously...it never worked, of course. Ichigo only let go of that seriousness a little after the second week on his post. Grimmjow was in his room, napping and swollen with eggs as he was every so often. In those days he didn’t leave his room much, so he’d never seen him pregnant before he became his guard. It was a whole new part of him. He seemed sleepy all day, a little grouchy maybe. He was standing there with him, inside his room as he so much insisted he did.

“Com’ere, I don’t bite.”

Maybe not, but standing in his room was too much already, he shouldn’t be getting so chummy with his Boss. Grimmjow wouldn’t take no for an answer, of course; stood up slowly and stumbled a little. When Ichigo caught him though, and his face was so close to his own; Grimmjow was smirking like a cat. Played again. How he ended up sitting on his bed and with Grimm’s head on his lap, he wasn’t sure. 

Grimmjow didn’t seem like he was playing anymore though. He seemed to sleep, but soon enough his voice startled him again. “Stay with me, will you? When I’m... like this? No one gets close to me on these days, like I’d break.”

Huh...

“They don’t even care about me, only about what I can do.” 

It cleared up a lot of things for Ichigo. So he let go of some of that seriousness he’d been taught to earn his title of noble guard, put on some more empathy for Grimmjow’s sake. He still played him, after that; as was expected. Still teased him and made him lose his cool in public for his own amusement... and he still got a little pissed of at him. Grimmjow liked to pretend that he’d never opened up to him. But he could work with that, for as long as Grimm needed.

He's lost count of how long he’s been his guard now. They’ve fallen into a comfortable maybe-friendship, and he knew pretty much all he had to about Grimmjow and his job and how to be the best guard for his needs. He’d learned how to convince him to attend the meetings he’d usually bail out of. He knew all his secret hide-outs where to find him at whenever he did run away. But most importantly, he’d gotten really good at reading him; at knowing when he needed peace and quiet, when he wanted someone to scream at just for the sake of screaming. It was only natural that he’d become so attached to him, and before he realized, Grimm’s skin on his shocked him every time and his eyes filled him with warmth. But that was a line he couldn’t cross.

It was especially hard to stop when Grimmjow became even more bold; touched his neck, played with his hair just to see him blush. He knew. He had to know.

“Who cares?” Fuck, Grimmjow was as unfazed as he always was. “I want you, and you clearly want me too.” 

He shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have given in. But how could he not? When Grimmjow called for him and received him sitting by his window, bathed by the warmth of the morning sun, in nothing but a thin shirt. When he held him tight and was rough and assertive about what he wanted. He’d laughed again, at the heat in his face and neck and ears; teasing him until he pushed him back into his bed. Grimmjow smirked that childish smile of his, that he always wore when he got his way. He held his waist, and his thighs and pinched his chest and let Grimm scratch and bite and pull at his hair as much as he wanted.

He couldn’t even be worried about his superior, or Grimmjow’s father finding out, or even the Elders; when he laid naked in his bed with Grimm in his arms. Fast asleep. After hearing him moan, and pant and scream. And pretty much every day after that, whenever Grimmjow felt like it, when he had time off work, and even when he didn’t but he wanted to get away. Grimm even made him scream and cry out a couple times as he rode and teased him; those times always made him worry someone would definitely hear him. Grimmjow only continued to cause problems for him; but he really didn’t mind.  If he could continue to hold him, and see every part of him, then he’d take whatever problems that came with it.

🌸🐇🌸 

[exocynraku]

i finished star, so here's my opinions on the book and ASC as a whole; (spoilers!!! obviously!!!)

star was... mediocre HEAVILY leaning bad. i felt like every single conversation until the last couple of chapters was either an arguement or cats calling out to eachother while fighting. i truly think this book highlights how 90% of the time these cats are so delusionally stupid. riverclan willingly following splashtail because they thought he could make the group stronger was so, so stupid. like, i get what they're trying to do, the kin and misttstar/reedwhisker's deaths DID suck for the group, so obviously they'd want to be strong. but did seriously no one go "erm... guys... this Might be a bad idea.." when he started threatening people and kits and making them fight with their claws? "oh but they were scared from the threats" Riverclan, excluding we'll say splashtail, berryheart, podlight, fognose and brackenpelt (who i think were the two exiled? i literally just read the book and i already can't remember) is EIGHTEEN to FIVE. seriously? and if we was threatening kits if they tried to fight back, couldn't you just... devise a plan to get the kits out before attacking? it just felt like such a shambled together plot. and further switching it, pretending they were ONLY fighting splashtail, he's even MORE outnumbered. if you're worried about him coming back to life after dying, just... kill him again! it's so egregious. i'm not going to lie to you guys, so little this arc made sense plot wise with what happened with riverclan and shadowlcna's conflict. this series bring the clans' xenophobia to another LEVEL, highlighting it in a way that shows how seriously stupid it is. there is quite literally ZERO! reason for the clans to dislike each other other than the idea of """loyalty""". i don't really know how to tell you guys! but you are all exactly the same! if anyone had a brain larger than a pea, riverclan would've willingly accepted help from shadowclan and had been FINE! mistystar and reedwhisker's deaths may have been the catalyst, but it was the clans own prejudice against each other that caused riverclan to have a genuine problem. the clans have, very easily, come together before to help eachother or fell a common enemy. it keeps happening! that's been a plot point of so many of the recent arcs! as i've grown up (i read a lot of wc when i was a kid), i've seriously reailzed how EASY it would be for the clans to stop having issues if they stopped having this loyalty complex. so many character decisions are completely illogical once you actually think about them. okay, back to the book. i... didn't really like splashtail's arc of taking over shadowclan? solely from a quality-of-writing standpoint, not really the plot exactly. something about it just felt so weird, in a way i can't explain? i'm not sure. (1/?, see reblogs)

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

Eddie’s never this late.

He’s usually pretty washy when it comes to being places on time — always either twenty minutes early or twenty minutes late, never anything between — but Gareth’s legs are actually getting sore from standing at this point.

He glances at his watch every so often, looking up and down the street for any sign of the van approaching. A couple of times, he’s considered walking to the nearest pay phone about a block or so away.

But no fucking way he’s leaving his drum kit on the curb unattended.

As if Eddie would pick up the phone anyway.

The owner of the music store has come out twice now to check in on him. Offered to have one of his guys load the stuff up for him, but Gareth declined as graciously as he could while trying to hide his festering irritation.

He saved up for months to be able to afford all of this new equipment, he absolutely cannot pay to have it delivered.

It irks him even more the closer that Eddie gets to being almost an hour late.

Just when he’s about completely fed up, having downed the entire bottle of water that Harold was generous enough to gift him, a vehicle turns down the street. For a moment, Gareth is overwhelmed by a blend of relief and rage, stepping up to the edge of the curb, but those feelings quickly fade.

Rather than the van, it’s a truck.

Gareth’s heart drops, and as it gets closer, he hopes to god that it’s still Eddie behind the wheel. When the truck pulls up to the curb, his hopes vanish.

The engine dies, and the driver side door opens. Heavy footsteps scrape the pavement, rounding the truck, and Hargrove comes to stand beside the collection of equipment.

His expression is blank. He’s clad in rough denim jeans and a t-shirt, with a pair of work boots to match. There’s a layer of grime on him that says he’s been doing something all day, likely outside, if the dirtied stains on the knees of his pant legs say anything.

For a guy from the city, he sure looks like every other ranch hand around here. The only things he’s missing are a can of dip denting his back pocket and a hat.

It’s quiet between the two of them for a beat. Gareth doesn’t know what to do or say — he’s only ever been in Hargrove’s company when other people are around.

And that was intentional.

The blond nods at the stuff on the curb and clicks his tongue.

“This everything?” he asks.

Gareth nods. Watches as Hargrove wordlessly circles to the back of his truck and drops the tailgate.

He immediately begins grabbing things, and Gareth steps out of his way. Watches as he carefully loads a few things into the bed, grabbing the larger ones first.

“You, uh,” Gareth begins. He clears his throat when Hargrove glances over at him. “Want me to help?”

At that, the blond huffs a little laugh to himself.

“Not gonna break your fancy drum set,” he says.

Gareth opens his mouth, and then promptly closes it. Furrows his brows and looks off down the street.

Everyone else seems to click with this guy. Even Grant and Jeff, after a while.

Not that Gareth necessarily wants to.

He just doesn’t understand why he quite literally can’t.

Eddie and even Steve have tried to explain to him that Hargrove is just tough — he’s not the type to wanna sit around and gush about niche interests, and he’s fairly blunt when he talks.

For some reason, everything the guy does and says just rubs Gareth the wrong way. He would say he doesn’t get why his partners are into him, but that would be a complete lie.

Hargrove is hot.

He’s thicker now than he was in high school. His arms are bigger, veinier closer to his wrists, and he’s got the faintest hint of chub on his stomach. Enough to pooch out a little over the lip of his jeans when he bends over to grab things.

It’s overwhelmingly obvious that he’s a man, and not a boy. A man with perfect blond curls and broad shoulders and the visible trace of scruff on his neck.

Of course he has two other guys drooling over him constantly.

Gareth himself tries not to look at him too much for fear of heat rising to the surface of his skin. Especially when he’s doing anything physical like this.

Once everything is loaded and the tailgate is shut, Hargrove straps the few larger things down, and steps up on the tire at each side to check and make sure everything is held sturdily enough in place before he hops down.

Wordlessly walks back to the front of the truck and climbs behind the wheel again.

Gareth hesitates, but opens the passenger side door and joins him in the cab.

The blond starts the engine, and the stereo immediately blasts Tooth and Nail by Dokken. He reaches out to turn the dial down a hint, sighing as he puts the truck in drive.

Gareth stares out his window as they pull away from the music shop.

“Why didn’t Eddie show up?” he asks.

Keeps his voice even so as not to let on how irritated he is. It works, for the most part, because Hargrove blows a raspberry and rests his elbow against the door panel.

“We got caught up trying to figure out why his van wouldn’t start, and when he realized he was late, he—“ Hargrove cuts himself off with a chuckle, an easy smile pulling at his lips. “He tripped up the porch steps. Started whining about having a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, and asked me to come pick you up.”

Gareth huffs.

“Figures.”

At that, Hargrove’s smile dims.

“Would’ve been worse if he’d shown up and been a drama queen the whole time, trust me.”

“It’s not that,” Gareth grumbles.

For a stretch of the street they’re driving down, only the music fills the silence between them. Hargrove’s grip on the wheel tightens.

“Well, I could’a said no, and you’d’ve been stuck on the curb all day. I’m not exactly thrilled about it either.”

His voice is lower. Testy. Like when he argues with Max or Steve and can no longer hide his blooming irritation.

Eddie has this way of making Hargrove laugh when things get too tense. Never lets the blond’s tone get under his skin no matter what they’re talking about, and takes it upon himself to lighten the mood.

Gareth wishes he was less easily affected like that.

“Didn’t have to come,” Gareth huffs. “I could’ve figured it out.”

Even out of the corner of his eye, he can see the angry red that creeps up Hargrove’s neck and pops the veins in his forehead.

Despite not having done anything remotely violent in recent years, Gareth still feels a small spike of anxiety at witnessing his little tells. Leans closer to the door and keeps careful attention.

After a tense moment, Hargrove takes a calming breath and sighs heavily. Relaxes his grip on the wheel and shifts in his seat, loosening up.

“I’m doing this for Eddie. Not you,” he says. “I don’t typically do free labor for people who hate my guts.”

Gareth’s brows draw closer together.

“I don’t… hate you.”

At the words, the blond chuckles, but it isn’t a happy sound.

“What’s your fuckin’ deal, then?”

“I don’t know. Nothing,” Gareth huffs. “Everything.”

“Well, which is it? You act like I’m some comic book villain when I can’t recall ever having done anything to you personally.”

Now, Gareth chuckles.

“Personally,” he murmurs. He takes a risk and turns to fully look at Hargrove, expecting to see more of that rage bloom on his skin again. Instead, he looks dejected. Sad, with his mouth pinched in a subtle frown, and his eyes vacant. Gareth sighs. “Look, it’s not… I don’t hate you. I just don’t get you, I guess? Plus, before you and Steve, Eddie used to actually care about doing shit with his friends. Today is a good example.”

After a moment of processing, Hargrove purses his lips.

“Edd cares. He’s just a little messy with his priorities — if he’d told Stevie that he was supposed to pick you up, he would’ve made sure everything happened on time.”

Gareth huffs. Slouches in his seat and props his elbow against the door, leaning his cheek against his hand.

“Right.”

“I’m serious. Who do you think plans all of your game nights?”

The brunet makes a face, and Hargrove chuckles again. Softer this time. Amused.

“Eddie’s always planned for that, though. Before he got with Steve.”

“Being in a club with a fixed schedule is very different than organizing things with complete flexibility,” Hargrove muses. Smiles to himself as he thinks briefly. “My point is that he does care. He’s also just… Eddie.” The two of them share a chuckle, and Gareth tenses when Billy playfully elbows him. “I promise I’m not stealing him from you.”

Instantly, Gareth’s face heats up, and he blows a raspberry in dismissal.

“Never said you were.”

“But you were thinkin’ it.”

With no valid argument, Gareth pouts. Crosses his arms over his chest and looks back out the window.

They’re only a few streets away from his place. That has his body welling with relief.

“Also,” Billy begins. “There’s nothing to get.”

Gareth glances back over at the blond.

“What?”

“About me. There’s nothing to get.”

“I mean—“ Gareth pauses, frustration building in his throat at the lack of proper words. Decides instead to gesture vaguely at Billy with his hand. “You’re not exactly an open book. I don’t think we’ve ever really even talked before today.”

“I know I’m not the most approachable guy, but you’ve never exactly tried to strike up a conversation with me before today.”

“That’s a two-way street,” Gareth grumbles.

Billy sighs.

“When you’re around, Eddie’s happy, and I don’t wanna ruin that because you and I don’t click for whatever stupid reason.” He shrugs nonchalantly, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel absently. “So I don’t make an effort to talk.”

The for Eddie goes unspoken at the end, but it’s thick in the air regardless. Gareth spreads a knowing grin, and Billy gives him a look out of the corner of his eye.

“So, Hargrove does have feelings.”

The blond tsks.

“Who said I didn’t?”

“No one. You’re just like if a stone wall was a person, is all.”

Billy giggles at that. Not laughs. Not chuckles. Giggles.

It’s a very not manly sound and has Gareth spreading a sort of bewildered grin upon hearing it, while also serving to chip the lingering intimidation away.

“I am not,” Billy muses.

“Yes huh. With barbed wire at the top, spikes at the bottom, and maybe even a mote with alligators up front.”

“Mm, and what makes you say that?”

The question makes Gareth think for a beat. They’re nearing his street now, and he sighs as he shrugs half-heartedly. Gestures at Billy lamely with his hand and earns a quirked eyebrow.

“I dunno. You’re… you, I guess.” The truck pulls up to the curb in front of Gareth’s house, and Billy throws it in park. Doesn’t take the key out of the ignition or move to open his door just yet. “Like some heavily guarded fortress at the top of a hill, overlooking a tiny village with no line of defense.”

The brunet presses his lips into a line. Doesn’t bother looking at the other seat out of embarrassment.

Billy is quiet. Then, he clicks his tongue and shifts idly in his seat, hand still on the wheel.

“I’m not really big on mystical analogies, but…” he begins with a sigh. “I’m more like the princess at the top of the tower, stuck in the fortress. Guarded by a fire-breathing dragon.” Billy drums his fingers against the steering wheel before he lets his hand drop to his lap. “There’s something to be said about Eddie and Steve being some knights in shining armor or something, but I think you get it.”

They sit there for a handful of seconds. Gareth mulls it over, thinks about what to say, but before he can open his mouth, Billy kills the engine. Pushes his door open and climbs out.

The truck jostles when he drops the tailgate, and Gareth hesitates before he gets out as well.

This time, rather than stand by and watch, he helps move everything from the bed to the garage. It goes by quicker, at least, that’s how it feels when they’re finally finished. Billy tosses the straps into the back of the truck and shuts the tailgate, cracking his knuckles absently.

“You need help setting anything up?” he offers.

Gareth shoves his hands into his pockets and glances over his shoulder into his garage.

“Nah, I got it from here,” he says. “Thanks.”

Billy nods.

“Anytime.”

He knocks lightly on his truck before he goes to walk back to the driver’s seat. Gareth chews his lip.

“See ya, princess.”

At that, Billy giggles again. Climbs into the front seat and starts it up. Then he’s driving away, music blasting, and Gareth turns to walk up the length of his driveway.

He’s still irritated about the events of today, but he’s a little relieved, too.

Because maybe Hargrove isn’t all that bad.

[poison-damage]

POISON DAMAGE - A POKEMON OC STORY [CH.1]

[Prologue]

TWs for the chapter: kidnapping, child endangerment

art credit: @eirian

A fateful meeting of outcasts.

It was Priscilla’s 7th birthday today.

She walked through the forest, her boots covered in mud as she dragged a long stick behind her, drawing a small path as she wandered. Birthdays were never something monumental to her–even at the young age of seven, she never saw the big deal. Most likely because they never really had money to celebrate, nor did she have friends to celebrate with.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a caterpie on its back, struggling to get back on its belly. Priscilla walked over to a bush with some nice large leaves, plucked one, and came back to the squirming pokemon. She gently flipped him back over before offering the leaf to the bug type pokemon, squatting next to him.

“Yer probably hungry, aren’t cha? Who knows how long ya’ve been on your back…eat up lil’ guy.” She said softly, but her face remained stoic. The caterpie wiggled excitedly before beginning to munch on the leaf, and Priscilla stood back up. “Try to be more careful, lil guy. I won’t always be around to help ya.”

She dusted off the shorts to her overalls, looking around at the trees. “Did ya make someone mad at ya? Maybe that’s why you were on yer back…” she mused, rubbing her chin in thought.

She then heard some rustling in a bush nearby, and Priscilla looked to it curiously. She tilted her head as she approached it carefully, peeking behind it and blinking a bit. Her expression lit up as she laid eyes on a larger-than-normal female nidoran, growling lowly at her. Living on a nidoran farm, Priscilla saw a lot of different kinds of nidoran and their evolutions, but she can’t remember ever seeing one this large! Priscilla didn’t make any sudden movements, though, especially when she noticed the injuries on the pokemon.

“Yer hurt pretty bad. Did a human do this to ya?” she said, her expression turning into a sympathetic frown. The nidoran bared its teeth more, growling louder. Priscilla took a small step back, holding her hands up. “I’ll get ya some help. Don’t move, okay?” though it was safe to assume in that state, the nidoran couldn’t get very far anyways.

Before she left, though, she set up a quick little nest inside a tree trunk and laid some berries in the nest. “You can rest ‘ere if ya want. No one will bother ya. I’ll be back.” Priscilla then ran back out of the forest to grab what she could to help out the injured pokemon.

—

She came out about an hour later, after telling her parents she’d be out late helping out a pokemon. She came holding a first aid kit and a couple potions along with a lamp(it had gotten dark), looking around for the nidoran. What she found, though, was the pokemon fast asleep in the tree trunk. Priscilla put down the first aid kit and potions, which while she tried to do so quietly, still made the nidoran stir. Priscilla offered a little smile, sitting on the other side of the tree trunk.

She looked up at the sky–there were always so many stars. She loved to look at them. “Ya know, humans have hurt me too,” she said softly, bringing her knees to her chest. “They can be really mean. They say ‘n do hurtful things…but I promise ya I’m not like that.”

She sat there in silence, starting to get a bit sleepy staring at the sky for so long. She eventually drifted off, now laying on her side as she continued her slumber. She was woken from a dreamless sleep, though, when she felt a soft body against hers.

It was the middle of the night as she opened her eyes, looking now at the nidoran who had curled up against her. She smiled sleepily, before she fell back asleep with the smile still on her face. It was nice to have a friend.

—

When they both had woken up, Priscilla had tended to the nidoran’s wounds, and the pokemon seemed very grateful as it nuzzled her leg. She giggled a bit, patting the pokemon’s head gently. 

“I live on a farm that has a buncha nidoran, ya know. I think ya might like it.” The nidoran chirped in response. Priscilla sighed, looking troubled. “Hopefully Ma ‘n Pa aren’t too worried ‘bout me…I guess this aint the first time I’ve fallen asleep in the forest, though.” She grabbed her stick she had left behind, pointing it in front of her with a determined expression.

“Yer name shall be Princess, ‘n one day, when you turn into a big nidoqueen, ya will earn the name Queen!” Priscilla proclaimed loudly, to no one but Princess. Princess chirped happily in agreement, and aggressively nuzzled Priscilla while thumping her leg happily.

They walked out of the forest, Priscilla dragging the stick behind her as she went. 

—

Priscilla got an earful from her parents for staying out all night, but that went in one ear and out the other. It would definitely happen again in the future. Priscilla wasn’t even sure why it was such a big deal–yeah it was her birthday, but she didn’t have friends to celebrate it nor could her parents afford any sort of celebration anyways. The ideal way for her to celebrate was to have fun in the forest and make a new friend.

Priscilla’s parents definitely had ogled over Princess, though–they did run a nidoran farm, after all. But Princess was not as excited to meet them as they were to meet her. She seemed to somewhat tolerate them, though, after observing that they were alright with Priscilla. 

The duo now found themselves back in the forest, Priscilla seated on a stump and Princess chasing after some poor bug pokemon as if she wanted to play. Priscilla was drawing circles in the dirt with her stick, sighing a bit.

The nidoran looked curiously at her, nudging her hand a bit to get her attention. Priscilla snapped out of her gloomy daze, petting Princess before smushing the nidoran’s cheeks a bit with a smile.

“I don’ mean to be so down….” Priscilla said, her voice a little sad. “But I gotta go back to school tomorraw…’s just not fair. All my classmates are bullies. Wish I could just hang out with you instead.” Priscilla kicked the dirt a bit. Then her face lit up, an idea clearly striking her. She looked excitedly at Princess, now smiling.

“I know what we can do! We can skip school t’gether. Maybe we can run away ‘n live here instead.” Priscilla looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’d miss Ma and Pa...but we can always go visit ‘em! I’m sure when we visit it’ll be special, like when Mamaw comes and visits…” she sighed contently, and Princess just rested her head in Priscilla’s lap. She pet the large nidoran, scritching underneath her chin.

“Yeah. I think that’s a real good plan. We can live off th’ land! I’m real good at looking for berries.” Priscilla stood up, patting her face as if to pump herself up. Princess looked up at her curiously before chirping happily. Priscilla pointed her stick in front of her at nothing in particular, huffing up her chest. “Let’s go home ‘n pack all ‘a our stuff, okay?”

—

It was late when Priscilla had packed up a bag with some snacks, a blanket, and other various trinkets. She took her notepad and pen, scribbling a note on the paper:

“Deer Ma and Pa,

Gonna live in tha forust. I wil still viset. 

Lov,

Priscilla”

When she had decided that would do the job, she quietly put the paper on the kitchen counter, looking around to make sure her parents weren’t awake. She then went over to Princess who was asleep on the couch and nudged her. 

“‘S time ta go, Princess. Our new life is going ta be so much fun!” she said excitedly, but in a hushed tone.

Princess yawned a little, shaking off the sleepiness before hopping off the couch and following Priscilla outside, and into the forest.

—

Priscilla had made a nest of leaves and grass, laying her blanket on it, before making a smaller nest for Princess next. The sun was starting to rise, but Priscilla was exhausted from being up most of last night setting up her new ‘home’. She yawned big, laying down in the pile she made for herself and pulling her blanket over her. Princess made herself comfortable in her own nest, closing her eyes.

“We worked real hard t’night, I think we deserve a lil’ nap, don’t ya think?” Priscilla said with a big yawn, and Princess made a tired little noise before adjusting a bit in her spot. Priscilla couldn’t help but notice her pile of leaves and grass weren’t as comfortable as a bed…no matter, though. She’d get used to it. It wasn’t that bad.

Nonetheless, she found herself tossing and turning, before finally falling into a deep slumber. Yeah. She could get used to this.

The duo weren’t asleep for very long, though, when they were woken up abruptly by Priscilla getting caught in a net. Her eyes shot open as she struggled to move. A large man stood in front of her, an umbreon standing next to him. Princess was also caught in a net, and was being loaded onto a truck, and Priscilla started to panic. This wasn’t supposed to be happening! Her and Princess were going to have a nice life together in the forest! 

“H-hey, let her go!! Ya dumb crap head!!” Priscilla screamed at him, struggling in the net, which caused the man to scowl and kick her in the gut. Priscilla felt sharp pain at that, and her vision went black as the man picked her up as well and threw her in the truck along with Princess.

“Stupid fucking brat,” he grumbled, turning on the car.

Princess chirped worriedly at Priscilla who had passed out, and she remained unresponsive as the man drove off with the both of them. Princess began to chew through the net, though it was taking her a while–she was frantic to get them both out of this situation, though.

Right when she had chewed a big enough hole to escape, they arrived at their destination. Princess didn’t have enough time to chew through Priscilla’s net, before the man noticed that the nidoran had broken free from the trap. His umbreon growled lowly at Princess, and she growled equally back, standing in front of Priscilla as if to protect her.

“Umbreon, use bite, and don’t hold back,” the man huffed, and the umbreon obeyed, digging it’s fangs into Princess’s neck, and she yelped in pain. The man then made his way towards the duo, frowning deeply.

“You’ve been a pain in my ass. No longer. And your little brat trainer? She’s seen too much to keep her alive. It’s over. Umbreon, dark pulse.”

The umbreon shot a dark ray from the ring on its forehead, causing Princess to stumble and wince, but she managed to get back on her feet before there was a fierce glint in her eyes. She started to glow, growing larger as she was shrouded in light. When the light faded, she emerged from it a large nidorina, now looking even more enraged than before.

She let out a loud growl before the ground started to rumble and break. She was using earthquake, and the man and the umbreon fell down to the ground and fear filled the man’s eyes. 

“I knew you were trouble,” he growled, but then a rock raised up and hit the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. The umbreon quickly fled the scene, and Princess went over to where Priscilla was and chewed through the rest of the net.

Priscilla finally opened her eyes, but there was a strong pain in her gut and she had trouble moving. Her eyes finally focused, looking up at Princess and slowly registering what was before her. Her eyes widened and she smiled big, sitting up quickly before wincing in pain and laying back down.

“Princess, you evolved! That’s…ow ow ow…that’s so wonderful!” she said, not able to contain her excitement which just made the pain flare up more. But she didn’t care. “Thank ya fer savin’ me…” she said softly, smiling a bit sadly.

Princess nuzzled her face, causing Priscilla to laugh and then groan in pain again. “Owww…What do we do now?” she said, her smiling growing into a frown. “Hol’ on. Maybe you can fetch Ma and Pa for me…otherwise I dunno if I can move, ya see…” Princess nodded in understanding, and ran off to go find Priscilla’s parents.

Priscilla closed her eyes, trying not to move too much since any movement just caused her anguish in the moment. Her eyes watered a little bit, and she couldn’t help but sniffle, reaching up slowly to wipe her eyes. She just hoped the man wouldn’t wake up anytime soon…Priscilla glanced over at his body, her eyes growing wide as she realized his body was still, no sign of breathing apparent. Oh, no. Would she and Princess go to jail? 

After some time had passed, Priscilla’s parents came running after Princess, tears in their eyes as well as they were thanking Arceus that she was alive and with them. Her father picked her up gently, and she began to cry again, gripping his shirt and sobbing into it.

Princess looked worryingly up at Priscilla, but followed the three of them back to the farm.

So, it turns out, they did not end up living the rest of their life in the forest.

[violet-1atte]

SKZ Kinktober Day 2: Titfucking - Hyunjin/Changbin

Tags: top!Hyunjin, bottom!Changbin, titfucking, oral sex (bj), come eating

AO3 Link

One moment, Hyunjin had a mug full of steaming hot coffee–black, like Minho’s soul (as he secretly said to himself)–and the next, Changbin had a white t-shirt full of that same coffee and Hyunjin’s mug was empty. He had never been so glad he drank his coffee slowly so it wasn't hot enough to burn anymore. Hyunjin had always been clumsy. It was part of his charm. He usually insisted that he at least was less clumsy than Jisung, but even that really wasn’t saying much, and at the end of the day, probably wasn’t even true. He could remember one time where he had knocked Minho’s coffee over and ended up with a mouthful of eleven tissues exactly. He was regularly tripping over his own two feet and he had gotten used to the consequences for the most part. 

This time, there was no Minho around to punish him for his clumsiness. However, the consequences of his clumsiness were staring straight at him–in the form of Changbin's coffee soaked shirt clinging to his well defined chest.

Hyunjin had never really considered himself a tits guy until Changbin started working out and his entire world was flipped upside down. He'd spent countless hours fantasizing about Changbin’s chest, about groping it, sucking on it, fucking it–it was more than he would ever admit. And now the culprit of his fantasies were showing right through Changbin’s shirt. He was so glad Chan and Jisung weren't home so no one could witness his embarrassment.

"Fuck–" Changbin cursed as Hyunjin was brought back to reality enough to scramble for some paper towels. 

"I am so sorry hyung I swear I didn't see you–" he rambled. He started pressing the paper to Changbin’s shirt to soak up the coffee. When his hands came in contact with his chest, he made a sound in the back of his throat (like any sane person would). Changbin gave him a look that was indecipherable and then wrapped his hand around Hyunjin’s wrist. 

"Don't worry about it," he said. He took Hyunjin’s hand away and he could have cried because he was getting to touch the famed jut and dae and it was over all too soon. "I'll just–damn it all my laundry is in the wash," he groaned to himself. Hyunjin didn't bother questioning who managed to run completely out of clothes on laundry day. Maybe he just had too many clothes. 

"I'm really sorry," Hyunjin said, his plump lips forming a pout. Changbin gave him a reassuring smile and pushed his shoulder a little. 

"Aigo, you need to stop being so clumsy, Hyunjinnie," he said playfully. "It's okay, I'll just…" He pursed his lips in thought for a moment before grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it over his head. 

Hyunjin’s life flashed before his eyes and his mouth went dry. 

It's not that he hadn't seen Changbin shirtless before. They'd lived together for years so of course he had. It was just never this close and Changbin really didn't make the habit of walking around shirtless like Chan did. But seeing them like this was better than Hyunjin could have ever imagined. His pecs were larger than some women's boobs and Hyunjin wanted to bury his face between them and never come out. His mouth watered as he imagined kissing and biting them, or sucking one of the pink nipples into his mouth. He couldn't take his eyes away as his mind continued to run wild. 

Changbin seemed to notice his staring and he smirked. "Like what you see?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Hyunjin choked on air. 

"N-no!" He sputtered, shaking his head. "Of course not! I just noticed your skin was kind of red. You probably need some ointment. I'll get that, of course." Changbin raised an eyebrow–his skin wasn't red. The coffee hadn't been hot enough. It didn't matter. He spun around on his heel and walked toward the bathroom where they kept the first aid kit. 

When he returned, Changbin was leaning across the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. His arms pushed his chest up and gave the illusion that he had real cleavage. Hyunjin nearly drooled. 

"Here I have the uh–the stuff," he got out eloquently. 

Changbin looked a little smug as he took his arms away from his chest. What was that about? "Can you help me put it on? I feel like I won't be able to do it as well." 

Hyunjin swallowed thickly. This suddenly felt like the plot to a bad porno. But perhaps that was just Hyunjin projecting his sick wants onto Changbin. There was nothing wrong with a bro helping a bro put ointment on his chest. Except Hyunjin was fucking gay and was especially gay for Changbin. 

"Um, yeah, sure," Hyunjin agreed, opening up the ointment. He wasn't sure why Changbin would need his help, especially because it really didn't look like there was actually a burn there, but he wouldn't question it. 

He squirted some of the cream onto his fingertips and took a step closer to Changbin. "Okay this might be a bit cold," he warned, voice soft. Changbin nodded and Hyunjin cautiously touched his fingers to his chest, right between his pecs. He started rubbing the ointment around where the burn was supposed to be and Changbin let out a shuddering puff of air. Hyunjin tried to ignore the way the sound affected him. 

He moved cautiously at first, afraid of showing how he really felt about this whole situation. But he got braver as he rubbed the cream in and Changbin made little sighs when his fingers grazed the muscles of his chest. "It looks like you need some here too…" Hyunjin practically whispered. He ran his fingers over one of Changbin's pecs and began swirling his fingers around to rub the remnants of the ointment into his skin. His fingers were dangerously close to his nipple. Changbin inhaled slowly and bit his lip as Hyunjin pressed into the pliant muscle. Hyunjin wet his lips. His fingers grazed Changbin’s nipple as he practically groped his chest and Changbin shuddered. Hyunjin decided to test his luck and brushed his fingertips over the nipple again with more pressure. He'd expected Changbin to maybe squirm a little, to give him a warning. What he wasn't expecting was for Changbin to outright moan. 

" Shit ," they both swore in unison. Hyunjin would have laughed if the sound hadn't gone straight to his dick and made him half hard in two seconds flat. Instead he held his breath, tension hanging heavily in the air. 

Changbin’s cheeks were crimson red. Hyunjin wanted to admire but he was frozen. He probably should move away, should apologize for touching Changbin so suggestively, for– 

"Hyunjin," Changbin called, his voice soft and a little hesitant. 

Hyunjin snapped back to reality and quickly moved away from Changbin. What was wrong with him? Sure, Changbin flirted with him a lot, but it was all just for fun. He didn't actually want him like that, he'd just asked for his help and now Hyunjin had ruined everything.

"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed frantically. "I went too far I–I know you were just asking for help, I shouldn't have touched you like that, I'm so sorry Binnie-hyung." 

"No wait, Jinnie," Changbin said, reaching for Hyunjin to put a reassuring hand on his arm. "You don't need to apologize. I should because…well I wanted you to do that. To touch me like that," he admitted, the blush on his cheeks darkening. "I shouldn't have though I–I know you always turn down my advances for a reason. I should take the hint. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." 

Hyunjin blinked, trying to process what Changbin just said. The cogs in his brain were doing their best to make sense of it all. It just didn't make sense. Did it? "I–you–what? What do you mean turning down your advances? You're always just joking around about that! You never actually wanted me like that so of course I–" Hyunjin looked over Changbin’s face– his furrowed eyebrows, his pursed lips, the obvious distress in his expression–and his stomach sank. "Right, hyung?" 

"Hyunjin what–no! I've been so obvious! You thought I was joking?" Changbin asked, his voice raising a few pitches. 

"Yes! Because you…" Hyunjin tried to come up with a reason why he would have thought Changbin was joking. Perhaps to protect himself from possible rejection. "I don't know," he whined. "So all this time you've wanted me?" 

"Yeah, you're like, so fucking hot Hyune," Changbin told him. "And a lot more too. But if that actually makes you uncomfortable I promise I'll stop. I won't bother you any–" 

"No!" Hyunjin said frantically. "I know I act all grossed out but it's because I was nervous and I thought you were joking and I didn't want you to know how fucking much I want you," he rambled. He ran a hand through his hair. "Oh my gosh I am such a dumbass, no wonder Stay put me with those other two idiots." He shook his head. "I could have had you all this time but because I thought you were joking I've wasted ages where I could have been getting my ass destroyed!" 

"Jinnie-yah," Changbin said with a laugh. He grabbed Hyunjin’s hands. "It's okay. We've still got plenty of time. In fact…" He looked around the room. "Chan and Jisung won't be back for a while. We could make up for some lost time." His lips turned up in a smirk and Hyunjin felt heat burst through his stomach. 

"Oh," he said dumbly. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he felt a little dizzy. “You want to? Right now?”

“Yeah, if you want to. I mean, I’ve wanted you for ages Jinnie, but we don’t have to now, I can w–” 

Hyunjin couldn’t wait. That was all he needed to hear before tossing his arms around Changbin’s neck and leaning down to kiss him. Changbin let out a startled little gasp as Hyunjin connected their lips but he immediately kissed him back, clutching Hyunjin’s sides. Hyunjin liked to tease Changbin about his height, as everyone did, but he couldn’t help finding it cute. And their height difference made it easier for Hyunjin to kiss him deep. Changbin tilted his head up to meet Hyunjin’s lips better and pulled him forward by his waist. There was a sense of sweetness that remained with it at first as they kissed each other, slow and deep. But it seemed like Changbin had other plans. 

The grip on his waist tightened and he pressed his hips to Hyunjin’s thigh. Hyunjin gasped when he felt how hard Changbin was through the fabric of his sweats and Changbin used that as an opportunity to lick into his mouth. Hyunjin happily accepted, parting his lips so Changbin could explore his mouth with his tongue. Hyunjin moaned softly as Changbin sucked on his bottom lip and licked across it, tasting him like he was the most delicious thing he’d ever had. Hyunjin tugged him closer, or tried, since their bodies were already plastered together, but he needed more . He let out a breathy whimper as their lips slid together, a little bit of spit slipping from the corner of his lips. 

“Changbin–” he said, unsure what he was even trying to ask for. As they’d kissed he’d grown fully hard. It was a little embarrassing how fast he’d gotten worked up, but Changbin was no different, not-so-subtly grinding on his thigh. 

“Yeah?” Changbin asked, pulling away for a second. His lips were red and spit-slicked and his round cheeks were such a pretty pink. Hyunjin had never felt more desperate for someone. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom, please I’ve wanted you so long I–” 

“I could never say no to that.” He pecked Hyunjin’s lips one more time before pulling him to his room and locking the door behind them. Just to be safe. Neither Jisung nor Chan were the best at knocking. 

They were back to touching each other as soon as the door was closed, hands groping everywhere they could reach as they stumbled onto the bed. “What do you want, Jinnie?” Changbin asked, running his thumb over Hyunjin’s bottom lip. 

There were so many things Hyunjin wanted. He wanted to ride Changbin, to fill himself up with his cock–he wanted to bend Changbin over and pound into him, watch his pretty muscles ripple while he was fucked–most of all though–

“I–” Hyunjin started, swallowing as he gathered the courage to make his request. “I want to fuck your tits. Please.” His face burned as Changbin’s eyes widened. 

“Oh?” Changbin asked, letting out a little laugh. His surprise soon turned into smugness and he smirked. “I should’ve known. You’re always grabbing my chest. And the way you were staring earlier too.” 

“Don’t tease or I’m getting up and going to my room,” Hyunjin said, although it was clear he was bluffing. 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry my Hyunjinnie,” Changbin said, pecking Hyunjin’s cheek. My Hyunjinnie. Hyunjin liked the sound of that. “So how do you…” He trailed off. 

“Just lay back,” Hyunjin said. “Do you have lube?” 

“Bottom drawer,” Changbin said as he laid back, pointing to the dresser next to the bed. Hyunjin moved quickly to grab the bottle and his eyes landed on what looked like a vibrator shoved further back. His dick twitched in interest but he ignored it. Later. Right now he had one mission and he was going to accomplish it. 

He tugged his pants down along with his underwear and his cock bounced against his stomach. His skin burned when he felt Changbin’s gaze on him. He felt exposed but in the best way. 

He straddled Changbin’s waist as he got back onto the bed and bit his lip as he looked down at him. “Is this okay?” 

“Definitely,” Changbin said with a quick nod. He sounded a little breathless and so turned on. Hyunjin couldn’t hold back a grin.

He ran his hands over Changbin’s chest and inhaled slowly. “Shit hyung you’re so fucking hot,” he groaned. How did he get this lucky? Changbin blushed and his lips pushed out in a pleased pout. 

“I could say the same about you. Now are you gonna fuck my chest or what?” He tilted his head as he looked up at Hyunjin and pushed his chest together with his hands. 

“Shit,” Hyunjin mumbled, arousal shooting to his aching cock. He uncapped the lube and poured it directly between Changbin’s pecs. Changbin shivered underneath him and tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You ready?” Hyunjin asked as he scooted forward so that his cock rested right on Changbin’s chest. 

Changbin nodded eagerly. “Yes, please. Use me, Hyunjin.” 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched and he moved his hips so that his cock rested against Changbin’s skin. The feeling was electrifying and he let out a moan at the contact. “Fuck.” He slid his cock between Changbin’s pecs and with Changbin pushing them together it created a perfect amount of friction. He began rolling his hips, starting a steady rhythm that had him seeing stars from the beginning. “Fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “Your tits are so perfect, hyung.” 

Changbin moaned at the praise and his mouth fell open. “You look so sexy on top of me,” he breathed. Hyunjin bit his lip. 

“Th-thank you– mmng , been wanting to do this for so long,” he gasped. He continued fucking through the dip of Changbin’s chest, the lube he’d added making the glide smooth and easy and so, so good. He felt close already and he’d barely been going for a few minutes but he wanted to hold out. He never wanted this to end.  

As Hyunjin’s cock slid towards his face, Changbin tilted his head forward and he let his tongue loll out and he licked at the head. Hyunjin let out an obscene moan, tilting his head back. “Fuck, Bin–do that again,” he whimpered. Changbin obliged, licking the precum off the tip of Hyunjin’s cock every time it got close enough, even allowing it to push into his mouth. Hyunjin let out a continuous string of moans as he chased after the pleasure, little ah, ah, ahs passing his lips every time he thrusted forward. Changbin seemed to be affected as well at just the feeling of Hyunjin’s cock on his chest and the taste of it on his tongue. 

“Is your chest sensitive, hyungie?” Hyunjin asked, taking notice of the way Changbin seemed to shudder every time he canted his hips forward. He remembered how Changbin had reacted to his fingers brushing over his nipples. “A-are you getting off to this too?” he asked, his voice strained from arousal. 

Changbin let out a moan in response and nodded. “Y-ye- ahh,” he managed. “Have always–always been sensitive.” 

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Hyunjin moaned. He took one hand off Changbin’s shoulder and circled his nipple with his fingers. Changbin writhed underneath him and let out another moan that sent pleasure shooting down Hyunjin’s spine. “Fuck.” 

Hyunjin squeezed his pec and Changbin’s back arched and his hands shook where they held his breasts together. “Hyunjin, Hyunjin–” he chanted, tossing his head back into the pillows. 

Hyunjin felt the coils of heat in his stomach tighten. Changbin looked obscene like this. His pupils were blown and his lips and chest were smeared with precum from Hyunjin’s cock. He was red from his face to his chest and his lips were parted with breathless moans as Hyunjin continued playing with his nipples, now both hands on his chest. He could feel his orgasm approaching fast. 

“I’m getting close,” he warned Changbin. He took in shaky breaths as his stomach tightened and sparks zipped down his spine. 

Changbin leaned his head forward again and opened his mouth. “Come on me, in my mouth,” Changbin urged. The sight of Changbin opening his mouth like that underneath him was enough to send Hyunjin over the edge with one more slide of his cock. He came with a desperate cry, cum splattering across Changbin’s chest, face, and tongue. Changbin kept his tongue out the entire time Hyunjin came and when he finished, slumping back, he swallowed. He licked his lips clean and Hyunjin felt his dick twitch at the sight. 

“Fuck,” Changbin muttered, looking at Hyunjin with dazed eyes.

“Fuck is right,” Hyunjin agreed with a laugh. He shook a little as he moved off of Changbin’s chest. His body felt entirely spent, but there was still more he wanted. Before Changbin could even make a complaint about being sticky and messy, Hyunjin leaned over him and began lapping his own cum off his chest. 

“Holy shit,” Changbin gasped. “You’re filth– oh .” Hyunjin grinned as he swirled his tongue around one of his nipples and ran his tongue up his chest to clean his collarbones. “What the fuck Hyunjin,” he breathed and Hyunjin let out a little laugh. 

“Just taking care of my hyung,” he said innocently, licking his lips. Changbin shook his head, eyes wide with awe. “Now…” Hyunjin started, looking down at Changbin’s tented sweats which had an obvious wet spot on them. He reached down and palmed at his crotch. “Can I take care of you in another way?” 

Changbin had never agreed to anything faster in his life. 

[gcldfanged]

Trigger warnings: gore, blood, murder, trafficking, implied abuse.

[Rehashed some lines from a old starter that kinda glossed over the inciting incident, but otherwise fresh?]

She'd mistaken him for a customer.

He didn't have the same air, not the acrid stench of rotgut amnesia or the wandering hands. Just... focus. A single-minded kind of drive that made it seem like he was blind, deaf, and dumb the hellish playground of sin playing out in all it's twisted theatricality.

It was Kato who dropped first, just went limp like a ragdoll- a marionette whose string had been cut. Then Shige. All hard men, professionals in the worst senses of the word, just… dying like roaches in the middle of a house fumigation. The other girls stopped whipping their clothes off and stared with their dead, jaundiced eyes, like bloomed gelatin sitting over two pools of nara ink.

Six more half-wits with more muscles than brains tried their luck and the Turk ripped them apart like a slow moving hurricane. His fists crunched into people’s necks, their temples, his hands snapped bone like they were dead twigs, and one guy had his kneecap smashed in so bad, he broke his own neck falling down onto one of the low-lying tables.

Masa was crippled with just as little fanfare, his switchblade flying back and embedding itself into the fabric of the booth seating. He was begging and pleading for his life, Ji-ho swore she might even have seen tears glimmering on his sharp cheekbones like diamonds in the club’s strobing lights. He was as good as dead, but he turned around and started crawling on his elbows towards that knife- It startled her, he looked like hungry ghost slathering for an abandoned offering.

It happened very quickly.

Instantaneous. Like jamming a finger into a light socket. Everything lit up.

She sprang for the blade, thin fingers holding on for dear life as she scrabbled against the scuffed vinyl flooring in a blind, animal panic. No time to say anything or think, just panic and sweat and desperation in that moment. A rough hand clawed into her leg and yanked her backwards an arm's breadth, near ripping off her shorts in the process of trying to reach that holy grail of a weapon- The last thing that might, keyword might, give Masanori a snowball's chance in Hell of not being killed that evening.

So she screams and claws like a yowling kit, gouges a thumb into his eye completely by accident in an attempt to push him off and reels an arm back to drive that wicked swedge of the alloy blade straight into his throat. She's not even aware of what she's doing, just stabbing and stabbing and blood gets into her eyes and makes her start crying reddish streaks down her dirtied face as she keeps screaming.

Masa flops onto his back like a dying carp, like the one tattooed across the breadth of his back emerging from stylized waves that were a hallmark of the classical art pieces smuggled in from Wutai. For a solid minute, she afraid she's legitimately pissed herself, but it's just all the blood- It's pouring out of him like a font from a busted pipe, flecks peppering his goatee and lower jaw like confetti as he chokes and gurgles and makes weak 'kkefhh-kkefhh' sounds because he can't fucking breathe.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm-" she's still holding onto the knife even as she crawls to his body and jams her free hand against the wound in a futile effort to staunch the vitae from seeping out of every vein running through his larger form.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" Mean to... what? I didn't mean to kill you? Who even says that-

A nervous tic, a stuttering mixture of deep heaving breaths of air and hysterical pealing laughter bordering on sobbing.

Steely hands enclose her wrists and Ji-ho doesn't even bother dragging her eyes away from the corpse, just barks out another broken utterance even as the weapon in question is wrested from her grip, the handle of the balisong's hilt in negative forever stamped into the flesh of her palm.

"He- He's going to be so mad at me," she hiccups, dread making her break out into a cold sweat and the blood in her veins turn into ice.

"It's m-my fault- I'm... I..."

The whisper of silky fabric drapes around her head and shoulders, making her flinch and open her eyes in disbelief. His jacket smells like the inside of a cedar trunk- That aroma she recognizes from when deer rub strips of xylem and cambium free from the base of larger trees with their antlers. That mixed with makhorka and cognac and musk- Something deeply familiar and woodsy and comforting.

He doesn't say anything. Just looks down at her peering up at his craggy face, dark feline eyes tracing each wrinkle and line of scar tissue etched across his taciturn features.

Maybe he did say something, or just nodded- Some kind of acknowledgment that she understands he meant without the use of words.

And where he leads her in darkness, she follows.

[jommunism]

im still in my post-show-comedown period and cant sleep so time for a story :3

so, im in kaiju queers, we're a queercore punk band in denton, tx. i joined back in february of this year, taking the place of the former drummer

for this band, i bought a new-to-me drum set, a 2017 yamaha stage custom kit in cranberry red, and i LOVE them omg look at my pwetty dwumbz

its a 5 piece kit (pieces in drummer speak means drums, excludes cymbals/other pieces of kit), comprising a 20 inch kick, 14 inch snare, 10 and 12 inch rack toms, and a 14 inch floor tom. ive also carried over the 16 inch floor tom from my circa-2002 childhood pearl export kit for more boom

i also have a very odd cymbal configuration. from left to right, i have a set of 13 inch zildjian planet z hi-hats (cheap, brass beginner cymbals i got for $50 used), my childhood 18 inch sabian b8 crash/ride, a secondary hi-hat without a pedal using my childhood 14 inch sabian b8 hats, and a 20 inch b8 ride with a 12 inch b8pro splash mounted upside down on top of the ride

pic for reference

ANYWAY

in between practices/shows/etc my drums live in our frontwoman dana's house for convenience, we rehearse there and operate out of there on gig days, so while it makes practicing with the band far easier, it also means i dont have immediate access to my gear

however

it also means that my drums get used when im not around, like when dana jams with the rest of the band or with other musician friends

and on one such recent occasion, the former kaiju queers drummer (whos actually on the EP) was over jamming, using his kit, but when he packed up to leave, he took some of my kit with him

and then he put it in a friend's rehearsal space

so last week, i roll in for practice, and my hi-hat stand (with pedal) is gone, a cymbal stand is gone, my snare stand is gone, and the lil doohickey that goes into the kick drum and holds the rack tom and second hi-hat was gone too

but fuck it we ball, the show must go on, etc

so i had to improvise and make my already unconventional kit (there's a reason for all of it, promise!) even weirder

i used the one cymbal stand for the ride and splash like normal, and just went without a pedal hat (which was not pleasant), using the auxiliary contraption i built plugged directly into the kick

for toms, i used the smaller floor tom as a rack tom at times and as a double floor tom at others depending on the song

observe, shenanigans

this completely broke all my muscle memory for playing fills and other accent parts and i had to constantly adjust things and it never felt comfortable, but i managed

and at times it ended up making me more creative with improvising

oh and the kick kept sliding around on the carpet cuz the little rubber feetsies on the legs got pushed too far up and exposed the spikes which only grip by chewing into the floor

now for some band operational behind-the-scenes shit

when multiple bands are playing a show together, its rather common for one band's drummer to supply the core kit (kick, toms, sometimes a snare, stands/hardware) with each drummer swapping in their own cymbals and snare if desired

since i play such a weird and bigger than average kit (most drummers ive played with only use a 4 piece kit (one rack tom, one floor tom) with a handful using a second rack tom for a 5 piece)

i usually supply the drums for the show (called backlining)

but for last friday's show, i didnt have a full kit to bring, i had to use a backup snare stand (which is literally shaking itself apart) just to get thru rehearsal

so i had to play the backline drums from another band

and of course, that drummer uses a 4 piece kit, so i was having to adjust on the fly, on stage, during the show

i made it thru by bringing my own snare and larger floor tom along with the auxiliary hi-hat contraption, which made it not as bad as it could have been, but damn it was weird. that guy likes to keep his shit tuned LOW with almost like, flabby-loose heads on the toms, whereas i keep mine tuned up a bit higher, so my 16 inch floor tom (my lowest tuned not-a-kick drum) was dramatically higher pitch than his floor tom

and my muscle memory still was off, going for drums that werent there constantly

i got thru the show, but definitely wasnt my best work

for this past tuesdays practice, i still had to go without my normal set up, as the previous drummer still hadnt been back with my gear, so once again, had to improvise, using the smaller floor tom fully extended as a makeshift rack tom, and it went a little better

but i was so fuckin happy to see him roll up after practice that night with a trunk full of hardware

and for the show i just played a few hours ago, i was able to roll up and backline with my full 6 piece kit assembled how i like it :3

[townofcadence]

⭐️ :3c

Send a ⭐ for Muse Combinations!

Okay so I think Nikki can be a fun combo with a bunch of characters! I love the idea of her and artair getting to know one another. Artair is kinda kind and patient and protective, and it'd be interesting to see how she'd respond to him and the way they might bond, especially because he can be patient but also-- he has a way of getting other muses to share with him stuff they usually keep to themselves because he's stubborn. I feel like it might be nice for her to have someone fighting to understand her lol. He's also a magnet for trouble, so there's lots of opportunities for trouble

But also I think opal would still be fun because they could get into some on-purpose trouble together and break things xD.

Micah and Caelan might also be interesting with her, because they were kind of weaponized into soldiers, so I can imagine Nikki having some level of kinship with that

Also all the Lycan and yokai and familiars! Mack would be hilarious because he has gigantism so he's obscenely tall and only larger in his wolf form (he's one of the larger species, the Mackenzie Valley Wolf). He also cannot feel pain, due to nerve damage caused by said condition, and he can be very scary. He also aging faster due to it as well. He's got a grumpy father vibe in saying he doesn't want people around and then adopting you. I feel like he would accidentally adopt Nikki lol. Fox I could see also getting into trouble with Nikki-- or annoying Nikki to death with her cheery following you around and talking lots and not exactly being the best with personal space because she's too excited lol. Io could be neat, though he's incredibly hard to communicate with.

Scorpio has the capacity to be hilarious because he's a fighty little guy-- but his lycan form is a chihuahua. Filled with wrath but without the teeth to use it lol. His brother Newt is a chill shiba so that could be neat, but also the familiars who are cats could be very interesting too! Frankie is the biggest flirt for attention like 'hehe yes i am a specialest little guy :3' because he's absolutely doted on by his spellcaster, so he could be silly, and Nox is a mischief maker too. Alistaire is a bit more serious and suspicioius, so that could be neat depending on the type of thread you want!

I feel with what you've said about Nikki loving kids before my kid muses could also be a fun combo! I have a ghost girl named Willow, a mute merboy named Siren, though he like Io might be hard to interact with, though he's more capable of communication than Io. Then Kit I think could be especially interesting, given she's a shifter and they're at least part kitsune and a thief and a troublemaker lol. It'd probably be the opposite of Mack in that he accidentally gets bonded to and yoinked instead of Mack going 'that's my child' with nikki xD

All the animal coded characters could also be fun with Caleb! Also Caleb meeting caleb just because they have the same name xD

[dickinson-devotee]

Iron Maiden, As Known By...

NICKO MCBRAIN as known by Steve Harris (2003)

With a character like Nicko, you never forget the first time you meet him! We were playing our first ever show abroad in Belgium and he was playing in a band called McKitty when I first saw him. He was sitting outside a café, dressed in a white suit, panama hat and winklepicker shoes. I thought he was a pimp or something from the way he was dressed! Larger than life, as he always has been and always will be, he had obviously had a couple of drinks and was chatting off, and I thought, ‘Wow, who is this character?’ It was quite an amazing experience to meet him and it still is really, he’s just a whirlwind. I suppose he’s calmed down a little bit over the years, but not a lot - but you wouldn’t really want him to.

He was with Trust when they supported us in ‘82 and we thought he was a fantastic drummer, so when Clive left the band, we approached Nick and asked if he’d like to try out and it worked fantastically.

It’s hard to describe what he’s like if you haven’t met him. I know people see him on the videos and that, and they think he’s crazy - and he is! But there’s a lot more to him than that. He flies planes and does all sorts of other things. He’s a more complex guy than you might think. He’s just really good fun to have around. I’m a bit on the shy side, so when we go out to meet people, I usually take him with me, because he’s a laugh and he’s got so much verbal, he takes the pressure off me. I just have to stand smiling in the background!

He is without a doubt the entertainer of the band. I really do think he could be a stand-up comedian if he wanted to. He half does that when he does his drum clinics. He tells these little stories and comes out with all these jokes. Often they’re in Spain or Italy or somewhere like that, and half the time, I’m sure the audience don’t really understand him, but he’s laughing at his own jokes anyway, so they laugh along with him! It really is a sight to behold, so I would recommend anyone to see his drum clinics, whether they’re into drums or not.

Technically, he’s a great drummer and he can play all kinds of music. Drummers from other bands sit round the back of him to see what he’s doing, but he’s got his kit set so he doesn’t even look at what he’s hitting half the time. He just puts his head down and plays.

He’s got his first songwriting credit with Maiden on ‘Dance Of Death’ with ‘New Frontier’. About time – he’s only been in the band 20 years! But the first one is probably the hardest to bring in to the other band members, especially when you’ve been in the band so long, and he’s up and running now, so I think it will give him the confidence to write stuff in future. Any variation in writing is a good thing and everyone is encouraged to write in this band; the only criteria is that it’s got to be bloody good!

[trashcan-writes]

So I've fallen into fandom as per usual but I've written a lot more than I usually do. Some of it I'm really proud of and so I thought I'd share a little bit of it before maybe sharing a good chunk? Like an actual chapter or two? Idk, but anyway please be nice.

Here's an excerpt from a chapter. Basically it's a COD mutant AU, where main character is a mutant and part of a squad of mutants called the Monster Squad. Main character is AFAB but uses they/them pronouns.

Sully excused themselves from the table, yelling at O’Conner to even up with them at another time. O’Conner naturally yelled obscenities at their receding back that had them giggling.

“Wait,” a soft voice called after them and soon, long strides brought Konig within inches of them, “ I will walk with you.”

“Oh? You didn’t have to come with me if you didn’t want to. I’m a big mutant, can find my own way back.” Sully said kicking lightly at Konig’s much larger boot. He tapped it back and shook his head. Sully paused, trying to think what could pull the man from drinks with his team.

“Ah, social battery is drained.” He nodded slowly like he was still translating the word from English to German in his head. Sully kicked at his shin guard and then started walking again.

“I get that. It’s hard to be on all the time. I’m probably gonna steal a snack from Kit’s room and then go to bed.”

Konig mumbled something and they peered up at him. “Say again big guy?”

“Being with you doesn’t drain my battery.”

Sully stopped point blank and stared at him. Konig stared back before breaking eye contact and focused on the gleam of their dog tags resting on their chest.

“Konig.” He looked back up at them “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Warmth blossomed in Sully’s chest and they let a genuine smile pull at their lips. Konig’s eyes went wide and darted across their face. Sully reached out and tugged on his thick dark hoodie.

“Come on, let’s go get steal some snacks. Oh! I have a tablet that may get Netflix out here, did you want to watch a movie or something? Work on recharging your battery?”

Konig pulled on their sleeve, big hand drifting down to hold theirs briefly, leaving Sully stunned and more than a little flustered at the way his hand completely engulfed theirs.

“Whatever you want, maus, lead the way.”

They walked together for a while after securing snacks, scant inches away from each other. The heat coming from Konig’s body was almost scalding. Sully wanted to lay across his chest like a lizard and soak it up. But that would be highly inappropriate, probably.

[skyfcx]

Hey Tails have you ever seen a little Metal Sonic in your lifetime?

     "Hmn... a specifically little Metal Sonic?" Well, size was relative and the kit was quite the small one when it came to size, so everything tended to seem larger than they perhaps actually were from his point of view, but if we were going off the base reference of the most modern make and model of Metal Sonic...?

     "I can't say that I've ever come across a particularly undersized Metal Sonic. Eggman typically makes his renditions of Metal to be equal to or larger than Sonic himself. It wouldn't really make sense to make them smaller than him. That would just be insult fodder for Sonic at that point."

     Though, a hum. "I mean, I guess there's Silver Sonic? —Er, the prototype, not the current existing model. That guy is a skyscraper, he's anything but short. But the prototype, that was a unique take on the Sonic doppelganger line. But that's Silver Sonic, not... Metal Sonic. Nitpicking, I know, but they are very different machines."

[scenegraph]

smp rockman.exe: part two (rockman roundup + masterpost)

no need for jealousy, they’re still in-stock at bbts, which is a seller i’ve used many many times before and can recommend.

roll pt1 (general assembly notes) roll pt2 (more detailed size comparisons here) rockman (general assembly notes) special guest superstar dragonmarquise’s build of the fireman from this box

...presumably this means i should try to sell the gutsman here instead of on ebay, so that we can have blogs about all four.  he’s minty!  he’s $27+shipping!  message me if you’re interested and have a paypal~

caught up?  then on we go~

from left to right, we have 66 action rockman, smp rockman, and mah boi (singaporean rockman).  as with roll, smp rockman is shorter and sassier than the previous generation of very smol model kits.  lookit that wrist joint!  (megan nt warrior was, if anything, somehow less poseable than mah boi here despite being 1. larger 2. his shoulderpads not falling off in a light breeze.  still do not regret selling him on years ago, even though it means i can’t put him right next to smp rockman)

roll cannot hands-on-hips, i guess that’s what the extra bit of assembly was about.  however, she is still the only one who can hold things, and that bothers me. no parfait for u, rockman

i have been selling re-ment furniture onward for ages because nothing i have comes close to being able to use the squat, not-actually-1/12 proportions.  if it turns out the smp navis are in-range enough to use the chairs i s2g

to sum it up, they’re smol!  (roll is actually a biiiit smoller than rockman, and she doesn’t have the weird love handles that rockman got stuck with.  whY...?) they’re sassy!  (if anything rockman has the potential to be sassier than roll, since he can swing his arm out and hands-on-hips u for not going to bed at a reasonable hour.)  if you are waiting on kotobukiya roll, it might take a while, so content yourself in the meantime with this set.  go forth, order some cheapo godhand 125 nippers, and subject your thumbs to building these little guys.  you won’t regret it once the soreness fades away, i promise.

speaking of the singaporean model kits i hung onto, i have a hilaaaarious reveal to make when blues kit becomes reality.  there is a reason i aint never taken a picture of him.  come onnnnnnnnn announce moooooooore alreadyyyyy