#Attractive Logo Design

[liveblack]

[msfcreativemedia]

@BuschGardens

©️ @msfcreativemedia

@zabo

[hazelbell46]

[rabbitcruiser]

Bellagio Hotel & Casino, NV (No. 3)

Construction began on November 1, 1995, and the opening was initially scheduled for March 1998. Marnell Corrao Associates served as general contractor. The project's cost increased several times, in part because of new features being added. A shortage of skilled workers also resulted in rising labor costs. It was financed through various lenders. Finished at a cost of $1.6 billion, it was the most expensive resort ever built.

Wynn envisioned the Bellagio as a five-star resort catering to tourists who typically visit places other than Las Vegas, such as Paris, London, or Venice. He said the Bellagio would "redefine Las Vegas", describing it as the "most ambitious" and luxurious project ever attempted by Mirage Resorts. He also said it would be "the most romantic, delicious place ever built in the world", as well as the "greatest" and "most beautiful" hotel ever.

The property features a variety of trees. Before the opening, builders spent more than a year searching the western U.S. for mature Japanese privets, which are capable of withstanding the dry Las Vegas heat. A deal was reached to remove approximately 30 privets from the government center in Ventura County, California, and replant them at the Bellagio, at a cost of nearly $10,000 per tree. The resort's pool area is surrounded by a Mediterranean garden that included nearly 300 pine trees, left over from the Dunes golf course.

Source: Wikipedia

[selfmadebd]

AI Logo Studio Review: Create and sell logos in 3 easy-click

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***Creator***

Loveneet Rajora

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💥AI Logo Studio Review - Benefits

First-to-Market AI Tech Converts Any Keyword Into Eye-Catchy Business Logos In Multiple Niches and Languages In 3 Clicks

Fire Your Expensive Designers and Cancel Expensive Monthly Subscriptions

Zero Grunt Work: Just Insert a Keyword, and Our Engine Does Everything For You

Create thousands of mind-blowing, 100% unique logos with just an idea, keyword, or prompt.

Sell These Amazing World-Class Logos on Your Own Fiverr and Upwork-like marketplace and Stop Paying Huge Commissions

Browse our HUGE library of 1000’s of done-for-you, expertly crafted logo templates.

Upload and sell your own logos to tons of hungry customers globally.

Download and use logos in various formats, such as PNG, JPG, SVG, and PDF.

Get 10X More Traction By Using These Beautiful Logos Anywhere You Like

Use multi-industry-friendly logos that force visitors to get hooked on your brand.

Craft a separate entity from your competition without lifting a finger.

Easily Use Yourself or Sell Them To Your Clients Directly For Huge Profits...

Zero logo creation, zero Photoshop, zero third parties, and zero freelancers are needed.

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Thanks for reading the AI Logo Studio Review till the end, and I hope it will help you make your decision. 

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[paper-mario-wiki]

Hey dudette, how do you make money?

i do a lot of things! though my primary role at my job is "business manager".

stuff i do/have done for my job:

manage ongoing relationships with clients

manage internal databases

manage weekly and biweekly emails that go out internally and to clients

keep on top of my boss's email folder by deleting spam, organizing things into folders, and marking the most significant emails as such

forecast the trajectory of the business a few times a year

fly out to business events to act as an in-person assistant for the boss

one time i was at home while the boss was at an event and i had to design an attractive business casual corporate-style social bingo cards from the ground up, locate a printing shop in san diego, and put in an order for 50 of them to be delivered to the hotel the event was happening at. all of these things had to be done within 24 hours. here's what it ended up looking like (minus the actual logo of the company running the event, which is now 2 now red squares)

one time i wrote a pilot for a tv show my boss was going to be on with someone from a different company. it got accepted and recorded 2 episodes before they decided to drop it

research different appliances my boss wants to buy for herself and her home

code a website for the business

really anything else that needs to get done. the reason i was hired is because my boss saw me as someone who can kinda do anything if i have enough time to do so. im compensated well enough for the effort though so im not complaining.

[yanderecrazysie]

Rhododendron (Yandere Android! Oikawa and Iwaizumi)

Part 2 of the Flower Language Series

I got these meanings from the internet, so some may be wrong. Sorry if that is the case, but please ignore my mistakes.

Please do not request the Flower Language Series.

Title: Rhododendron

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader; Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder

Flower meaning: Danger, beware

Summary: There’s something off about your husband’s new androids.

“I know you don’t like me bringing home work, but this is going to blow your mind,” your husband said, one hand on your shoulders as he led you through the apartment to the living room, one hand over your eyes. 

You had a half-smile on your lips, “This has to do with your ‘top secret new project’, doesn’t it?” 

You came to a stop and he removed his hand from your eyes, saying, “You tell me.”

A gasp left your lips. In your doorway stood two tall, rather attractive men with their eyes closed. After a moment, something struck you as off about them, though you couldn’t put your finger on what it was. Maybe it was the way their skin shone under the fluorescent lights. Or maybe, the fact that their skin had no flaws whatsoever and their faces had perfect symmetry.

You spotted your husband’s company’s logo on their matching blue shirts and realization hit you.

“They’re- they’re robots, aren’t they?”

“Androids,” your husband was practically glowing, “I designed them myself. What do you think?”

“They look so real…” you left out the part where you found that to be very creepy.

“Just wait until they open their eyes,” your husband replied eagerly, misreading your hesitation, “The one on the left is called ‘Oikawa’. His model is designed for housekeeping and basic chores. The one on the right is ‘Iwaizumi’, and he’s kind of like an android guard dog.”

“And they’ll be… staying here?” you murmured, unsure of how you felt about their presence.

Your husband finally noticed that you were less than enthusiastic and began to squirm a little, “Well, yeah, just for a little while. They need to be tested so we can work out any bugs. They aren’t dangerous or anything, I promise.”

“And no one else can take them?” you asked in a small voice. You couldn’t help but shiver when you looked at them- something about them frightened you. Some part of you needed them gone.

The pained look on your husband’s face told you all you needed to know, and your heart sank. His voice was quiet when he spoke next, “I’m the lead designer on this project, so it’s required that I test them in a natural environment… I’m really sorry, honey.” 

You squared your shoulders and forced a smile to your face, “It’s fine. It’s totally fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine.”

“Well, like you said, we don’t really have a choice,” you said, unable to keep the sourness out of your voice this time.

“I’ll turn them on,” your husband said softly, “Maybe you’ll warm up to them.”

“I hope so,” you sighed. You didn’t mean to be so unsupportive, but you had both agreed to keep your work at the office and, sometimes, it felt like only you held up your side of the promise. Not to mention, his “work” this time around was very unsettling.

“Oikawa, Iwaizumi, turn on,” your husband commanded.

Their eyes opened at the same time- one pair brown and playful, one pair green and serious. Both androids turned their attention to your husband instantly, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were somehow watching you at the same time.

“I’m adding another authorized user,” he continued. He pointed at you and the androids’ eyes snapped to look at you, making your stomach twist in displeasure, “This is my wife, (Y/n).”

Iwaizumi nodded and said, “Understood.” 

Oikawa, on the other hand, crossed the distance between you and held out his hand, a charming smile spreading across his face. You reluctantly let him take your hand in his and he lifted it to his lips. You shuddered at the coolness of his lips against the back of your hand. There was no warmth in his hands and lips. His “skin” was soft, but it lacked life.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetie” he said, his voice as sweet as honey.

You took your hand out of his and drew it against your chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, so you merely nodded, a shiver crawling up your spine at his pleased smile.

You noticed the eager smile on your husband’s face and felt bad that you couldn’t match his enthusiasm. However, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the androids standing before you. Oikawa’s smile was unsettlingly perfect and Iwaizumi’s green eyes seemed to pierce through you. 

“Why don’t I show you what they can do?” your husband suggested excitedly, “Oikawa, clean please. Iwaizumi, check all the doors and windows please.”

“Yes, sir,” the androids said in unison. You watched as Oikawa began tidying up the kitchen, his movements as fluid as a human’s. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, began to check the house, locking the windows that you had forgotten about.

Your husband placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “See? They’re very helpful and you’ll barely notice they’re around.”

You highly doubted that you wouldn’t notice them, but you forced a smile, “I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------

As the days passed, the androids seamlessly became a part of your household routine. Oikawa kept the house spotless, prepared meals, and engaged in small talk that was so eerily human-like that it unnerved you. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, rarely talked and guarded the front door and kept things locked up with military-like precision.

But the feeling of unease never stopped. Oikawa’s gaze always lingered on you for too long, and Iwaizumi seemed more interested in protecting you than your husband. You did your best to avoid being home when your husband was out.

One evening, you returned home from work to find the house unusually quiet. You were surprised that Oikawa was the one to let you in the house and lock the door behind you. It had always been Iwaizumi who did that.

“Good evening,” Oikawa said with a blindingly white-toothed smile, “How was your day, (Y/n)?”

“Good,” you replied, “Where’s Iwaizumi?”

“He’s outside, making sure everything is safe,” Oikawa said pleasantly, “What would you like for dinner?”

“I’m just going to rest, actually,” you said, “Is my husband home yet?”

“No, he is staying late at the office,” Oikawa replied.

That was odd, considering his big project was at the house and he was usually home early, working on the androids.

Oikawa’s head tilted, “You seem tense. Would you like a massage?”

You swallowed uneasily, “No thanks. I just want to rest. Alone.”

Oikawa nodded, but his intense gaze didn’t leave you as you hurried up the stairs and into your bedroom. You locked the door behind you, heart pounding. Something felt off, but you couldn’t figure out what it was.

Moments later, a knock sounded on the door. You froze, praying it wasn’t Oikawa. “Yes?” you called.

“It’s Iwaizumi,” the reply was muffled through the door, but his voice was steady, “I just wanted to let you know that you are safe now.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling as though the words meant something deeper, “Good night.”

“Good night,” Iwaizumi replied. You listened for the sound of retreating footsteps down the stairs but the sound never came. He was still standing outside your door.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and sent a text to your husband, asking when he’d be home. The wait for a response was excruciatingly long, but a reply finally came.

I’m still at the office, sweetie. Is everything okay?

You stared at the message for a full minute before you realized what it was that seemed off. He had never called you sweetie before. Suddenly, a memory resurfaced in your mind of Oikawa.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetie.”

As you stood there, trying to make sense of it all, the door handle turned slightly, as if someone was testing it to see if it was locked. You stopped breathing for a moment before shakily calling out, “Iwaizumi, what are you doing?”

There was a long pause before he answered, “Please do not be alarmed, (Y/n). I must ensure your safety.”

Gathering your courage, desperate for answers and plagued by unease, you opened the door. Iwazumi’s eyes widened at the sight of you as you demanded, “Where is my husband?”

Iwaizumi’s gaze didn’t leave you, “Your husband is at work, overseeing additional development.”

You frowned, “Iwaizumi has anything… changed in your programming recently?”

A flicker of something crossed Iwaizumi’s face, “Our job has always been to ensure your safety and happiness.”

“And what about my husband’s safety and happiness?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed, “His safety is secondary to yours.”

A shiver shot down your spine and you quickly pushed past him, hurrying down the stairs. There was something you needed to know.

Oikawa was standing in the kitchen. Not cleaning or cooking, just standing there as though he were waiting for you to come down the stairs, a smile plastered on his face.

You headed for the door, ready to get in your car and get the hell out of your house and away from the androids, but Oikawa blocked your path.

“Out of my way!” you snapped.

“Where are you going?” Oikawa asked sweetly, “You aren’t safe out there, you know.”

“I need to talk to my husband, in person.”

Oikawa’s smile twisted into a victorious grin, “Why don’t you video call him right now?”

You shakily pulled out your phone, “Why a video call?”

“Then you’ll know we aren’t changing our voices to pretend to be him!” Oikawa said with a small chuckle. 

You weren’t even aware they could do something like that. At least he’s being honest. You reassured yourself.

You pressed the video call option on your husband’s contact page and waited. It took a moment for you to comprehend what was on the other side of the screen.

When you did, you screamed, mind branded forever with the sight of the remains of your husband.

Behind you, Oikawa began to laugh.

[ggoojjoo]

black ysl

— pairing : gojo staoru x f!reader x geto suguru

— synopsis : satoru and suguru were head over heels for you, and when they finally find the opportunity to have you, it’s one hell of a ride!

— contains : smut with little to no plot, profanities, mentions of violence(?), reader is oblivious asf

— wc : 2.2k

— note : not my fave but it's cool hihi

tumblr is based on reblogs!

smut warnings : semi-public sex (in the bathroom of a club damnit), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, threesome, eiffel tower(?), oral (m), fingering (f), slight overstimulation, mentions of spit, praise, that was all i think

That Satoru and Suguru were attracted to you was an understatement, they were worshiping the ground you were walking on! And everybody but you seemed to notice that. Shoko was on the point of ripping her own hair out when you were so oblivious to the flirting the two tall men initiated, and you just looked at them with an innocent smile. 

“Hey, princess!” You heard Satoru call out for you across the training field, making you stop punching the curse induced puppet in front of you. Satoru jogged over to you, his eyes peeking over his round sunglasses. As soon as he reached you he wrapped his arms around you in a hug, you, of course, were complaining due to how sweaty you were. “I don’t care, princess. So, how’s training going?” He asked, looking at the mangled puppet. 

“Ah, it’s going pretty good,” you sighed, pushing a few strands of hair out of your eyes. “What brings you here anyway? Isn’t it your day off?” You asked, eyes round in curiosity, which sent a shiver down Satoru’s spine.

And just as he was about to answer your question, a heavy arm fell onto your shoulders, making you twist your neck to see the offender. “Oh, we just wanted to know if you want to join us tonight.” Suguru’s smooth voice invaded your ears. “To the club, I mean.” He finished the thought, looking down at you with a smirk curved on his lips. 

You thought for a few seconds, shrugging. “Yeah, why not?” You smiled at the men, missing their glances they exchanged between each other. 

“Sweet! We’ll pick you up at eight!” With that, they bid their goodbyes and walked away.

You took your shower, did your hair, and make-up. Now you were stuck on wearing an outfit. One of your options was a black YSL body-con dress that was short enough to barely cover your ass cheeks, showing off your legs, paired with a pair of black YSL heels. Your other option was a pink Gucci dress that reached just above your kneecaps and was a bit flowy, but had a deep V-cut, paired with white, knee-high boots. A loud groan left your lips as you turned to grab your phone, dialing Shoko and calling her on face-time. The phone rang a few times until Shoko picked up with a loud yawn, cigarette smoke flying around her. “When are you gonna quit smoking?” You asked sarcastically, knowing she will never quit. 

“Cut the crap and show me your options, I know why you just called me.” A soft giggle left your lips as you flipped the camera, showing the two dresses on your bed, paired with their designated shoes. “Ooh, (Y/N), hard one, really. But I think you should go with the black one.” She said, looking at the dresses. “Yeah, yeah, go for the black one, and put some nice underwear on! Maybe you’ll get laid tonight.” She laughed as you flipped the camera to yourself again. 

“I think I’ll have to go braless, though. But I’ll make sure to pick out my prettiest panties.” You winked at the camera before putting it on your bed and getting changed, putting some lotion on and spraying your perfume. “Almost done!” You called, slipping the dress over your form and putting on the heels. “Done,” you sighed, taking your phone and turning it to a full length mirror to show off your outfit. The YSL logo on your heels glimmering in the dark as your calves were shining from the lotion you used, glitter scattered over your skin. The dress was a beauty in itself. “So, how is it?”

Shoko’s gasp made you smile, posing for the woman. “(Y/N), I’d fuck you then and there! I will kill you if you don’t get laid tonight!” You laughed heartily as you flipped the camera again, putting your phone on the dresser to arrange your small purse, putting your wallet and some tissues inside. You also put the lipstick and perfume you used inside, in case you need to freshen up. “Are the guys gonna pick you up?” Shoko asked, looking at the time. You just nodded at her question as you checked your hair again, and talk of the devil, your doorbell rang. 

“See you, hun!” You blew her a kiss before hanging up and walking to your door. As you opened the door to the tall men, a whistle echoed through your hall. “Hi, guys!”

Satoru and Suguru looked over your outfit, each having a smirk painted on their faces. “Let’s go, princess.” Satoru offers his arm, which you gladly take, walking beside them. Outside was the expensive Mercedes Satoru had gotten not long ago, and ever the gentleman he was, he opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat, Suguru getting in the backseat. “Then let’s go and have some fun, yeah?”

Your eyes roamed the whole club as you sat by the booth, sipping on your drink, Satoru and Suguru nowhere in sight, probably flirting. You didn’t mind, though, you liked a bit of fun on your own. “Hello there, sweets, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone?” You heard a man call next to you, loud enough to be heard over the music. 

Turning around, you sent him a smile as you leaned back on the booth, crossing your legs. “Nothing, just having fun. Why are you alone, stranger?” Your head tilted to the side a bit, your hair sliding off your shoulder. 

“Oh, I’m just trying to get you, pretty girl, with me on the dancefloor. If I may,” he said, reaching his hand out for you. A smile breaking out on his face when you took it, walking with him to the dancefloor. “The name’s Toji.” With that his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer as you two danced to the rhythm of the song. A sudden shiver ran through you as you continued to dance with Toji, your eyes darting around to see Satoru and Suguru staring at you over Toji’s shoulder. You sent a wink their way. Toji leaned over, lips over your ear. “What’s your name, sweets?” He asked, a smirk curved on his lips.

And just as you opened your mouth to answer, two big hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back, hitting a hard chest. “Gotta steal her from you, big guy.” It was Satoru, and not even a second later, Suguru appeared behind Toji, pulling him back from you. You felt Satoru’s breath as he whispered into your ear, “Let’s have fun, shall we?” His hands made their way to your hips and Suguru’s to your waist. A blush creeped on your face as the two men sandwiched you between their hard bodies, grinding and pushing against each other. You looked up to see Suguru smirking down at you, his eyes fixed on the way yours sparkled in the purple and blue lights of the club. 

A soft gasp fell from your lips as you felt Satoru pull you impossibly closer to himself, hips moving against your lower back, and Suguru was doing the same to you but his hips were moving against your lower belly. A soft moan left your lips as they both leaned in, breathing against your skin. “So pretty for us, huh, princess?” You giggled at them, pushing harder against them. The alcohol in your system obviously helps you get over your shyness. Both of your hands wrapped around Suguru’s shoulders, pulling his chest against yours, ghosting your lips over his hot neck. Said man shot a glance over your shoulder to the blue-eyed sorcerer behind you. “Wanna take this upstairs, princess?” 

Loud moans and whines flew around the hot restroom as Suguru’s fingers were working your pussy, the loud squelches almost drowned out by the blaring music outside, almost. “Ah, Suguru, please!” You didn’t know what you were pleading for, but it was something. Satoru’s hands never left your boobs as he sat on the counter behind you, you between his legs, feeling his hard-on prodding against your back. One of your legs was hooked on Suguru’s hips as your arousal slowly ran down your thigh, the golden YSL heel shining in the dim light. 

“You sound so pretty.” Satoru slurs against your neck, sucking hickeys into your skin. “So pretty for us, yeah, princess. All for us, right?” Satoru didn’t seem to shut up, pulling moans and whines out of your swollen lips. “Is Suguru fingering you well, princess? Come on, tell me.” Another moan cut through the air as Suguru curled his middle and ring finger the way you like, the heel of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit. 

“Awe, pretty baby,” Suguru cooed, “what do you want? Tell me, what do you want?” A stray tear slipped from your eye as you looked at Suguru with a pout on your face. The long-haired sorcerer chuckled darkly as he smashed his lips against yours, sucking your cries out of your lungs. 

You felt yourself near the edge as Satoru’s lips kept their place on your skin and his fingers on your nipples, pussy clenching around Suguru’s fingers. “Are you going to cum, angel? Come on, cum on my fingers.” That was enough for you to fall over the edge, moaning and shaking in the men’s grips. This was one of your most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, stars littered across your vision. 

You felt two pairs of hands on you, eyes half-lidded and a dazed smile on your face. “Fuck me,” you sighed, giggling. 

Hearing the both men chuckle made a shiver run down your spine, their hands on you tightening. Suddenly, Satoru and Suguru switched places with you now bent over Suguru’s lap as he sat on the counter, leaking cock free out of its pants and standing tall. You felt yourself drooling at the sight, your hand wrapping around his base. “Not so innocent now,” Satoru slurred as he pushed his pants down and your panties to the side, pussy swollen and glistening with your wetness and Suguru’s spit. “Fuck, princess,” Satoru groaned. 

“So compliant,” Suguru whispered as his hand found the back of your head, lips attached to the base of his cock and licking your way up. “Come on, suck my dick while Toru fucks you nice and good.” You whined as you felt Satoru’s large tip prod against your hole, clenching. And with one swift movement, he was balls-deep inside you. Good thing Suguru prepped you. “Fuck,” Suguru groaned as he felt the vibrations of your moans, “keep sucking, angel.” 

Doing as told, you wrapped your lips around his length and hollowed your cheeks, letting your tongue slide over the underside of his shaft. While you were sucking the sorcerer off, Satoru was behind you, hands gripping your hips for dear life as he fucked you, his hands leaving a few spanks here and there, red hand prints evident. One specifically harsh thrust made you jolt forward, Suguru’s cock slipping deeper into your throat, making you gag pathetically. “Sorry,” Satoru strained, eyes fixed on the way your pussy left a white ring of arousal on his milky cock. 

Satoru stopped moving, your whines of protests muffled by his friend’s cock in your mouth. And then, all of a sudden, the white-haired man gripped your hips and smashed his against yours, creating loud noises that echoed through the hot restroom. You felt your knees give out from under you at the sheer force Satoru fucked you with, but thankfully his grip never faltered. With a gasp, you pulled away from Suguru’s cock, jerking him off instead. Your tongue ran over his tip, eyes looking up at his face filled with pleasure. “Fuck, angel, I’m gonna cum if you keep this up.” You smiled, sticking your tongue out and slapping his heavy tip against your tongue, pathetic moans leaving your used throat as Satoru was still fucking your from behind. 

A loud gasp ripped out of your lungs as Satoru’s fingers found your swollen clit. “Oh my god, Satoru, I’m gonna–” You heard a hearty laugh from above you, Suguru’s hand now in your hair as he shoved you down on his cock again. “If you’re gonna cum, then you’re gonna cum with my dick in your mouth.” His words sent a shiver through your body, pushing you closer to the edge. “Fuck,” he gasped, hips twitching against your face as he was only a few more thrusts away from his orgasm. Your cunt clenched around Satoru’s cock, his fingers never ceasing their movement as your orgasm took over. Thighs shaking and knees barely holding you up, you tried your best to keep sucking Suguru’s cock, but to no avail. He harshly pulled you off of his cock and held you by your hair, his fist tight around himself he came onto your face. White spurts of cum dripping down your chin and onto your cleavage.

And at last, Satoru came with a loud moan, pressing himself impossibly deeper into your cunt and painting your walls white. His hips kept rutting into your cunt as he came down from his high, your whimpers of overstimulation shooting the men’s egos up. 

You felt Satoru’s hands rub your sore ass as he whispered, “You did so good, princess.”

The next morning you were spent, not wanting to move one inch as Shoko came running into your apartment. “Tell me you got railed?”

“Shut up.” 

@ggoojjoo 2023 | © do not steal or plagiarize

i do not own the jujutsu kaisen franchise nor the characters!

[shorberson]

Rolitagni's First Contact

I'm trying out doing some creative writing of my own for a change. I've been following the HASO tag for a while, and wanted to give it a shot. This is moreso designed to be an intro for a series, I guess. If you have feedback, I'd love to hear it!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The spaceport was always busy. The chaotic noise of merchants peddling wares and hulking cargo ships being loaded up for long voyages never gave anyone a moment’s rest. But it was here that Rolitagni felt at home. Sitting in a packed lounge near the loading docks, she grabbed her second glass of Bulemoi, and made idle chat with some of the other workers around. Some were a little weirded out by her appearance; after all, Kemians don’t exactly have the best reputation or the kindest appearance. She could sense that much within the room. But she was familiar enough to the others that they didn’t mind. She listened to her fellow voyagers and their tales; tales of long journeys, of strange planets, and of other species they’d met across the galaxy. Though there was one species that cropped up in more stories than others lately.

Humans.

A relatively new group to join the collective of various species in the galaxy, the humans had made quite the entrance. The galaxy had been aware of humans, but as a Type 1 civilization, it was more of an occasional entertainment than viewing them as equals. Not that they knew, of course. But humanity had improved. After dozens of cycles of testing and watching, a human spacecraft–rudimentary at best, it’s a wonder it even made it that far–stumbled into the Gree’lek’s territory. What Rolitagni wouldn’t have given to see the faces of both sides when they found out. After some tense negotiations, humanity was deemed more than an attraction, and viewed as a fellow spacefaring species–though woefully behind. How they’d managed to do anything without faster-than-light tech was beyond her. The galaxy helped them catch up, and in a matter of cycles, humanity had transitioned from a one-planet species to a fully functioning part of the Commonwealth of Systems. Rumors floated around spaceports and tabloid headlines about humans and their stories, stories of daring bravery, utter foolishness, and of their quirky nature. Sure, every species had its features, but there had been such a long time without a new species that everything had become rather dull. Rolitagni, being her outgoing, curious self, had been excited to meet a human the moment she’d heard about them.

As she sat in the lounge and daydreamed, she felt a buzz from her pocket. Her datapad, signaling that it was time to get back to work. With a sigh, she stood up, stretching a bit before handing the bartender some paeolenta. She strolled out of the building and into the busy streets. A nightmare of colors, sounds, smells, and species roamed about. But she loved it, taking in a deep breath of the artificial atmosphere. It was such a smorgasbord of gasses and chemicals to allow for all visiting species to breathe it, and it left a strange taste in the mouth. She strolled down the walkways, making her way back to her ship, nudging her way past Slaniums, Tre’as, and many more species that she probably couldn’t pronounce. After some distance, she arrived at the loading docks. The hulking cargo ships loomed overhead, being anchored in every which way by cargo tubes and walkways. Following her datapad to find her ship, she looked up to see the brilliant logo of the ship she’d served on for so long: “G.S.V. Laneyla”. Supposedly the captain had named it after his late partner. It didn’t matter too much for her. Whatever the name, it’d been her home for dozens of cycles. 

As she walked up the ramp she saw one of her coworkers, a Jlinin by the name of Mreswi, waving to her and holding a datapad similar to her own. “Hey, Roli! We’re just finishing getting loaded up. Got a few dozen more crates and we’ll be good to go. Think you can take over?”

Roli giggled to herself. Mreswi’s strange tendency to drag out the vowels of his words never failed to make her smile. Well, as much as she could smile with her canine-esque skull-like face. She beamed her message into his mind, though he was used to it. After all, she couldn’t exactly speak. “Sure, I’m coming! Just finished relaxing at Poaters’ place.” She whipped out her datapad and pulled up the manifest for this next trip. Standard stuff, like spices and materials, bound for wealthy buyers or companies to make products. Then there were some odd things, like a pallet of seventeen Bremni skins. A predatory species, and not one with intelligence, they were often hunted for their strong, yet soft skins. And as she scrolled down the list, she raised a metaphorical eyebrow at the last entry. Rather than cargo, it displayed that a new member would be joining them. Roli got excited. It’d been a few cycles since anyone had joined the crew, although everyone was still reeling a bit from the death of their last engineer. She shuddered at the memory. Turns out that having many tentacles in a room with plenty of moving gears was not exactly the best combination. They’d still find pieces of them in the system from time to time.

She gave a nod to Mreswi as she began watching the cargo arrive through the conveyor systems. She couldn’t imagine trying to haul all this up, despite her four-armed strength. As she surveyed and checked off the supplies as it arrived, she felt something. A small sense of nervousness from around her. Sure, to a Kemian like her who could sense life-forces, that was normal. But something about it was different. Each species had their own chemical and neural responses, but she’d never felt one like this before. As the last of the cargo arrived, she felt the presence getting closer. She looked down the ramp towards it, and gasped to herself. She could feel her own giddiness boiling up inside her. She’d dreamed of meeting one, but to have them as a new crew member? It was almost enough to make her squeal.

She watched as a human slowly approached. The stories had always painted humans in different lights and appearances. He slowly approached, looking around anxiously while toting their large baggage. As he approached her, he looked a little more scared, which was understandable to her. After all, pale white skin with tens if not hundreds of stitches, four arms, a pitch black skull mask, and being about a foot taller than the human was not a combination that was exactly easy to expect or understand. 

The human cleared his throat and spoke in a gentle, yet curious voice. “Um, hey. Is this the ‘Laneyla’? I was told to meet someone here.”

Rolitagni beamed with happiness, her attitude completely betraying her appearance. She nodded and looked down at the human, sending her message into his mind. “Yep! Sure is! I guess you’re the new guy, huh? And a human, too!”

The human froze for a second, seemingly shocked by her telepathic nature, along with the lack of a universal translator needed to understand her. After a moment of stammering to himself, he worked up the courage to speak. “Yeah, I am. I’m supposed to be the new engineer here.”

Roli nodded again vigorously while her twin tails swept behind her in eagerness. “Sounds great! Why don’t you go ahead and have a seat over there,” she said, gesturing to a bench by the back wall of the cargo hold, “and I’ll show you around soon? We’re almost ready to shove off.” She beamed as she checked the manifest on the datapad in front of her. “Oh, by the way, what’s your name? I’m Rolitagni, but most folks call me Roli.”

The human paused for a second, then looked up to her and spoke. “I’m Aidan. Nice to meet you, Roli!” His translator crackled slightly. They hadn't been updated to be able to translate this “English” very well yet, but it worked well enough.

“Nice to meet you, too, Aidan!” The name was slightly strange to Roli, but so were plenty of other species' monikers. She’d get used to it in time. After all, they had a long voyage ahead, there'd be plenty of time to get to know the human. She watched as Aidan took his things over to the bench and sat down as she finished up the inventory. She walked over to the bench and looked at him. “Welcome to the ‘Laneyla’! You’ll have a great time here. Ready to get started? I'll show you around the ship for starters.”

[liveblack]

[collapsedglasshouses]

Sweater Weather || Nick Folio x Reader

P H O T O F O U N D O N P I N T E R E S T

PAIRING: Nick Folio x Reader

WARNINGS: fluff, secretly dating trope kinda, mentions of previous sexual intercourse (idk if it needs to be a warning),

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit

A/N: I had this idea because I wanted to write something cliché. I was a diehard marauders stan and got inspired by those "you have the wrong tie on"-stories. I hope you’ll enjoy the small one shot.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed while almost sprinting out of your car and up to the front door of restaurant you had planned to meet up with the boys.

They wanted to discuss everything one final time before the tour started you had been running painfully late.

So, when you stumbled into the restaurant you shot the group a small greeting without really looking at them and quickly sat down between Folio and Noah.

The latter shot you a confused glance that you couldn’t quite read, so you just smiled at him softly.

“Uhm…” Ruffilo exclaimed, also looking at you like he had seen a ghost.

You blinked confused, trying to process why the group was looking at you strangely but Jolly finally helped you out of your misery.

“So, you and Folio finally did it?” He exclaimed in a jokingly tone.

Your mind started to race. Why did Jolly know? Did Nick tell them? You thought the two of you had agreed to not tell anyone about it. But on the other hand, it’s been three months since you started dating for real and…

“You’re wearing Folio's sweater." Noah quietly said to you, helping the storm in your head to calm down.

You looked down slowly at what you're wearing, when it hit you. The Logo on the front was undeniably from one of his sweaters, but because you were running so painfully late this morning you'd just grabbed a random sweater from the floor in your bedroom on your way out. Completely missing out on the fact it was Nick's.

It had been a dark grey crew neck, with a little white design on the front. A sweater looking really similar to one of your own and also one he wore quite frequently during the winter.

You blinked in disbelief. Out of all sweaters, you had of course taken exactly the one that the boys could clearly identify as Nick's.

You shot all of them a short glance, before looking back at the sweater and you began to stutter. "We… uhm-… I"

„For fuck sake, yes we are dating. Could you now stop staring at Y/n like they are an attraction."

To that Matt gave you a small smirk, "I'm happy for you, but if you ever fight on tour and make it our problem, I'll hunt you down."

The rest of course having heard, rambled in disbelief for a second, as they looked on the menu.

Nick placed a hand on your thigh, causing you to look at him.

"Is it okay, I told them?" Nick whispered on your ear. You slowly began to nod.

"It was actually kinda painful to not be able to touch you or kiss you around them." You answered him with a small and lovingly smile on your face.

"Let's change that." He exclaimed teasingly before pressing his lips to yours in a loving kiss.

"Okay, just because you are dating and we know it now, doesn’t mean you have to fuck in front of us." Noah jokingly exclaimed.

You pulled away for a second to shove your elbow into Noah's side just to peck Nick's lips again, who began to slightly laugh at your action.

Right before the waitress reached your table to get your orders, Matt spoke up again.

"So, I guess we can save some money by cancelling one of your hotel rooms on tour, right?"

MASTERLIST

[wynndigogh]

Bring me a dream...

You stand brushing your teeth in an outdated bathroom. 

The light over the vanity appears to be from the sixties and considering the way the bulb flashes and surges every few seconds with a zz-ut-zhut sound, it may be that old as well.

The light it gives off is yellow and dull; however, you aren’t very sure you’d like a bright view of that bathroom anyway.  The tub, sink, and toilet have more rings than the Olympics logo and the faucets are pockmarked with rust.

The tiny mosaic flooring tiles are missing in random spots and the bold floral designed wallpaper, which you are sure at one time contained bright yellows, oranges and greens, is now a faded façade that is barely clinging to the walls.

You roll your eyes and spit the last of the toothpaste foam from your mouth, “Not exactly the Hilton, but a bed is a bed.”

With a sigh you exit the small washroom, opting to leave on the flickering yellow light and close the door just enough to for it to act as a nightlight.  You are single, traveling alone, and unfamiliar dark rooms are intimidating. The sliver of light from the bathroom brings you some small amount of comfort, no matter the poor quality.

You walk stiffly through the small motel room.  After two straight days of driving, with little rest, your body feels like stone.  In your overly caffeinated, yet insanely exhausted, state you are trying to remember exactly why you thought driving from Georgia to your job interview in Oregon would be a good idea.

Ah, yes, Skinwalker Ranch. 

You started watching the spooky series on the History channel months ago and have become obsessed with the thought of other-worldly portals that connect our world to places unknown.  In a misguided a-ha moment you decided to drive, instead of fly, so that you could pass through Gusher, Utah just to be close to the supposed interdimensional portals. 

You know getting on the actual ranch will be a no-go, but you want to be in the town, as close as possible to the actual ranch, just to see if anyone has tales of their own to share of extraordinary happenings in the area.

So, that is how you ended up in this rundown motel pretty much in the middle of nowhere. 

With a sigh, you pull back the old comforter on the bed, noting the dingy sheets with a shutter.  You hesitate for just a moment, contemplating if you should put leggings under your oversized tee shirt, but your tired body encourages you to tough it out.  Reluctantly, you crawl into the bed. 

Since your last coffee was only an hour ago, a desperate attempt to make it to Gusher before your heavy eyelids forced you to stop, you are a little too wired to just drift off to sleep.  So, you pull out the latest creature-feature romance novel that you’ve been reading and turn to your ear-marked page.  You will read until the caffeine-kick wears off.

The small room is quiet except for the faint zz-ut-zhut from the blinking bathroom light. 

In fact, the whole motel is as quiet as a graveyard.  You doubt any of the other rooms have occupants in them.  The parking lot was empty, and the front desk clerk seemed genuinely surprised to be checking someone into the establishment.

You twist to your left side, trying to get the aged lamp beside your bed to illuminate your book’s page.  You need to see the details clearly; the story is just getting spicy. 

The story’s heroine has been fighting a growing attraction to her Centaur field-guide, whom she hired to lead her through a dangerous forest.  A recent Trogg attack has the suppressed protagonist clinging to the Centaur’s broad equine back as he races her to safety.  The author is detailing the baritone sound of his huffs of exertion, the heated moisture coating his muscles, and how the heroine is enjoying the bouncing rhythmic friction of the chaotic ride just a little too much.

You subconsciously swallow and rub your stacked legs together out of need.  You feel a slight ache in your nether region followed by the tell-tale sign of slick starting to gather at your entrance.  You shift your position, and the bedsprings protest with a squeak and a hiss.

You flip the page in your book, and you are halfway through the first sentence at the top of the page when the thought finally registers in your tired mind, did the bed just hiss?

You lower your paperback book to scan the bed and the dimly lit room.  The fossil-age lamp beside your bed and the sliver of yellow bathroom light illuminates the area around the bed decently enough but they do little to chase away the deep shadows in the far corners of the room. 

Oh, how you hate the dark.  Ever since you were a child, you always felt like the darkness itself was watching.  Watching and waiting. 

The longer you look at the shadows of the room, the more your skin wants to crawl with goosebumps.  You know it’s silly and that it is probably just your anxiety of being alone in an unknown space, but that same feeling of being watched surfaces in the back of your mind.

However, after a moment of observation, nothing seems amiss.  With a shiver and a shake, you turn your attention back to your book.

By the middle of the page, the heroine is reaching her peak bouncing up and down on the Centaur’s back.  You are fully invested in her ride, fantasizing about riding astride the strong creature yourself.  As your mind wanders, your body reacts to the imagery.  Your nipples harden under your nightshirt and your internal temperature peaks causing you to sweat.  You throw off your covers and start to fan yourself with your book, when you hear a muted in-take of breath, like a soft gasp.

In shock and fear, you bolt into a sitting position, “Who’s there?”, you call out in panic.

Your eyes and ears strain for clues.  The only movement and sound coming from the flickering bathroom light. 

Seconds tick by, counted off by the zz-ut-zhut of the old light bulb. 

The stillness growing into an uneasy stalemate.

You shift nervously on the bed.  Preparing, waiting.  Yet, nothing happens. 

Slowly, your racing heart begins to ease.  The muscles around your eyes begin to relax as your body adjusts to burning through the last of your caffeine-high just now. 

As your eyelids grow a bit heavy, a yawn surfaces.  Your face contorts in the yawn, your eyelids shielding most of your vision.  That’s when you see it, a flash of light deep in one of the room’s shadows. 

No, that isn’t right.  It wasn’t a light, there were two.  You saw two flashes of light, almost like the blink of dual fireflies, in the corner across from you.

You quickly stifle the yawn, blinking back the reflexive tears from your eyes, and stare hard at the space.  Only, the lights don’t reappear. 

Was it your imagination?  Is your fatigued brain experiencing hallucinations? 

You focus hard on the corner, and you see something…at least, you think you do.

Is that…a shadow? 

For a moment it’s there and then, with the next blink of your eyes, it’s gone again.  Was something there?

You strain to see.  Your eyes sting with dryness and feel gritty, even as tears from your yawn leak from the corners.  You squeeze your eyes shut repeatedly, trying to lubricate them.  Surely, you’ll be able to blink away the fog that seems to be forming on your pupils, obscuring your vision.  However, no matter how many times you try, your eyes refuse to focus.  You use the heel of your free hand to rub one orbital, in a pitiful attempt to literally wipe away the opaque quality of your vision.

Deep in the corner, the shadow flickers into existence and two glowing orbs reappear.  The orbs aren’t the luminous bottoms of bugs, they are two glowing eyes staring straight at you.

For just a moment, shorter than a gasp, your heart stops.  Pausing in stillness, preparing for the surge. 

Then, with the quickness of a lightning strike, the adrenaline jolts through your system.  Your heartrate spiking, sending blood to your muscles, preparing you for fight and flight.

You instinctually shriek and fling the book in your hand at the tall form in the darkness while simultaneously rolling off the far side of the bed with a resounding thud.

“Tsk, tsk, is that any way to treat a coveted possession?”

The voice that you hear from your hiding spot beside the bed is masculine.  It has an elegant cadence with an accent you can’t place.  It sounds otherworldly, almost ethereal, and yet hollow, like it’s muffled.  The sound of a male voice inside the room with you triggers the third fear response, freeze. 

You are utterly frozen in place on the grimy carpet, your mind racing.  Who is it?  How did he get in?  What does he want?  The sound of soft footsteps interrupts the chaos storming through your mind.  The footfalls are coming closer. 

Over the lip of the mattress, you see a dark hooded figure leisurely making his way around the bed.  You just stare with wide eyes as he comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, stares down at you, and tilts his head to the side inquisitively. 

Is it panic or shock that has your back glued to the floor, your body unable to move, or is it awe?  

The man, no – that isn’t right, it can’t be right. 

The being standing over you has swirling, glowing eyes.  You watch as the color of those luminous orbs shift and twirl in tones of blue, white, violet, and gold.  They are oddly mesmerizing and unnerving at the same time.  Just as your mind starts to get those in their depths, he breaks eye contact, and you watch those shimmering rings of light trace a line down your body, lingering with interest on the peaks of your nightshirt and the exposed swatch of your lacy underwear.

After a long pause at your lacy covered apex, those shining eyes blaze white and lift to make eye contact with you, “My lady, I do believe you are in need of my assistance”.  His eloquent, ethereal voice placing emphasis on the word ‘need’. 

The bedside lamp casts enough light to reveal his face beneath the hood. His eyes aren’t just floating orbs, they are pupils set in a pair of elongated eyes, framed high and tight by steep cheek bones.  His skin, a deep velvety blue with sparkling specks that catch and reflect the light, resembling a starry night sky.  You can only see a small portion of skin around his eyes, and you understand why his voice sounds muffled, he’s wearing a mask over the lower half of his face.

You hear screaming.  It takes you a moment to realize the sound is coming from yourself.  Your voice sounds so far away, like you are having an out-of-body type of experience.

The creature…being…man, whatever he is, raises his finger to his masked mouth and issues a command, “Shhhhhhhh”.  

A glimmering tendril of some type of floating substance, ribbons out from his hand, wafting over you, and stealing your panic.  Like a drug, your body starts to feel heavy and your voice stalls in your throat.

“Allow me to help you”, his foreign accent drawls out from behind his mask.  The shapes of his swirling eyes pinching thin, in what could be a cheeky grin, as he reaches down and takes your delicate hand in his indigo colored one, pulling you to your feet, your body just obeying.

Standing toe to toe it is apparent that this being is tall, at least 6’4” because your petite frame is only reaching the top of his chest. 

You are staring up into those hypnotic eyes when you feel him grip your chin.  His fingers are tipped with dark claws, and he is careful not to stab them into the tender flesh of your face.

“Are you hurt?”, he questions behind his barrier, “Maybe I should check, eh?”

His long eyes turning cheshire-shaped from another impish grin.  You are feeling too dazed to protest when his free hand glides over your shoulders, down one of your sides, and pauses on your hip, gripping into the amp flesh.

“Who-what are you”, your words come out slow and groggy.

“Hmmmm, I am called many things by your kind, faerie, demon, Sonnaya Tuchka, Ole Lukøje, Pesochnyy chelovek, we call ourselves Zeez; however, my favorite is your tongue, what you called me when you were youngling.”

The creature pauses staring at you; your transfixed dreamy stare telling him that you were not processing his words as quickly as he is speaking.  He watches patiently as the information clicks into place in your mind, your eyes widening ever so slightly with the realization that you two have met before.

“You, my desert flower, called me The Sandman.  But, if you wish, you may call me by given name Der.”

Der’s face loses its brash flirtatiousness and takes on a more somber look, his eyes phasing more blue, as he releases your chin to run his outside of forefinger down the side of your cheek.  The action doesn’t feel intrusive or offensive, it feels more familiar…sad.

Your gaze swipes lazily across his face as your mind tries to fight through the haze clouding it.  You take in the colors and reflecting light of his skin, those enthralling eyes, and then your sight slides down to his covering.

“Why do you wear a mask?”

You watch the tall being’s shoulders shake with a huffing laugh, “Always the curious one.  You asked me the same thing when you were much smaller.” 

He lifted a claw tapping the hard mask, the sound telling you it is made of some type of hardened leather or shell of some kind, “This is the burden of my kind, if we wish to remain culturally acceptable and welcomed in our world.”

Your forehead draws together in confusion. 

Der’s eyes twinkle with mischief as he continues, “My kind’s verbalizations can be very persuasive without a filter to cushion its affects.  The other species of my world grew tired of losing partners to my kind’s talented tongues.”, he finishes with a wink.

Ah, his words are as beguiling and seductive as his eyes and the mask acts as his muzzle.  Interesting.

Maybe it’s the fact that you were nose deep in a creature-feature smut book just prior to his arrival, or the fact that you haven’t been laid in longer than you’d like to admit, but your mind betrays you.  An intrusive thought pops up out of nowhere, and your inner voice wonders just how tantalizing a sexual experience with this Zeez would be.

You feel Der’s glowing eyes on your face and, almost as if he reads your mind, the swirling vortexes of his pupils surge from a golden hue to bright white.  You watch the glowing whirlpools circle into ever deeper depths, pulling you under with their currents.

One moment you are standing in a dingey motel room with this otherworldly creature, the next you are sinking in a sea of sand.  The particles rush up your body as you sink further into the abyss.  Your nightshirt is lifted from your body and pulled away by the grit’s undertow. 

Down you slide through the bottleneck of the sandy spiral, landing carefully on a bed of dark mist.  The hooded Zeez astride above you, smiling like a cat who ate the canary, behind his thick face mask, at the sight of your topless form on display for him.

“I have waited a long time for you to ask this of me”, Der purrs in his ethereal accent.  His indigo hand reaches up and detaches the muzzle from his lower face, revealing the remainder of his deep velvet skin and a wide fanged smile framed by a delectable set of dark blue lips.

Feeling self-conscience and exposed under his blazing glare, and his smile that is barely hiding some vicious looking teeth, your arms crisscross over your breasts in a protective manner.

“I-I thought you couldn’t remove the muzzle.”

Der opens his mouth, and a tongue of sand licks the tip of one fang, "Ah, but we are not in my world, my little desert flower, we are in your inner world.  Welcome to your dreamland.”

Without his face mask filtering his essence, the full force of the Zeez’s influence slides over you making you feel heady and drunk with euphoria.  The effect steals the air right out of your lungs, causing beads of sweat to pebble across your skin, your muscles to twitch for release, and your back to arch from the cool dark mist.  With just two short sentences, his words alone have you teetering on the precipice of an orgasm. 

An unguarded moan slips past your lips causing him to chuckle.  The sound of his chuckle, much like that of sand flowing through a wooden cylinder ‘rain-stick’, is its own form of a soothing aphrodisiac.

He leans close and whispers into your ear, as your eyes flutter in ecstasy, “Hold on, my flower, I’ve waited too long for this opportunity to pluck you.”

The inner walls of your pussy twitch in rhythm to his vocal cadence.  To keep from crying out you bite hard into your bottom lip, breaking and bruising the delicate skin.

“Tsk, tsk, is that any way to treat a coveted possession?”, he growls at you in his thick accent. 

You squirm as the slick between your legs becomes so abundant that it is pushing forward, up around your clit, “You-you, sa-said that about my-my book”, you stutter as your mind’s focus splits between talking and the throbbing of the delicate nub in your apex.

Der literally purrs.  His body vibrating above yours, tickling your exposed skin, he’s so close to your ear you can feel his lips brushing the shell with each word, “I was never talking about the book, Love.”

His purring, his lips caressing your ear, along with his declaration pushes you over the edge.  Your inner walls clinch in release.  Your hands forget their mission to guard your modesty and reach out fisting his hood cowl as your body shivers in release.

Der sighs in slight disappointment.  “Next time I will need to keep the mask on until we are further along, you are delightfully sensitive.”, he chides with a salacious grin.

Your release subsides and he slides your hands from his cowl.  As you lay cool in the swirl black mist of your own dreamland, the Zeez releases the clips of his hood cloak, shedding the heavy covering and exposing a torso that you were not expecting. 

Instead of a swath of blue, speckled skin, you are shocked to see short sleek indigo fur coating his neck, the backs of his muscled arms, across his stout shoulders, and down his strong back.  The inner portions of his torso, his chiseled chest, and washboard stomach, sport that starry skin that matches his face.  A face that, now you can see, has a pair of long pointed ears on each side of its head.

Farther behind him a new astonishment swishes through the air, catching you off guard and causing you to jerk in surprise.  A long thin tail with a furry tuft at the end whips back and forth in anticipation.

You are in a state of shock and awe, staring mesmerized at the unique being above you.

“What are you?”, is what slips out of your mouth without going through your internal filter.

That same raspy chuckle of his, slides over your skin like a caress, “I am a Zeez.”

Seeing the lack of recognition, or satisfaction, on your face from his answer, he pauses a moment to rethink his approach.

“I guess your kind would most closely associate my species with your mythical Sphinxes or Manicores. We are timeless creatures with no natural end.  We originate from a cold dark desert in my world”, you watch his eyes dim a deeper hue of blue than you have noticed previously, “but that area is no longer ours.  We now live among tribes and clans of many.”

His long tail gives a sharp whip, creating a snapping sound and breaking his reverie.  Der’s eyes shift back into their golden, white tones as he stares down at you.  His fanged grin grows wide, and his purr returns tenfold.

Suddenly, you feel like a cornered mouse.  Plump and ripe for the devouring.

“You smell delicious”, he rasps out above his vibrations.

TO BE CONTINUED if you want(because it is time for me to catch some Zeez 😘)….

@thelaundrybitch @leoandraphssoulmate @kokosworld95

Author Note: There are three points to know about this story.

1. You may be surprised to learn that Der (and his species) are a MINOR character in my main book series that I'm trying to finish. I wanted a way to expand and explain more about Zeez and this story was born.

2. The book that Der's human is reading in this story will be a vehicle that I will use to introduce other MINOR characters/species from my books as well. So, yes, you will get the read the Centaur's story too, which will feature many of my own creature creations.

3. There is SOOOO much more to Der and his human's story. I am happy to tell it if anyone is interested. The amount of detail and I have created for all the characters still amazing me. (I have no life LOL).

Eh, let's throw a 4th point in here. Der's species was born from an a scene in an actual dream I had. It may not come across as well here in this story, but in further expansions of the story, it explains that humans can only see Zeez when they are tired or sleepy.

Hence the phrase...."catching Z's".

[artoatsblog]

Cursed "edgy" reboot idea #1: A "Once upon a Time" style show but instead of classic fairy tail/Disney characters it's done with DreamWorks characters.

The main character is Shrek (now named Sean) who has been transformed into a human living in a rural town.

He one day gets visited by The boy sitting on the moon in the DreamWorks logo who's basically the god of every single DreamWorks movie who reminds Shrek of his previous life.

The moon boy also reveals he has an evil sun themed rival who wants to take over the DreamWorks universes.

Shrek has to go on a quest to find the other DreamWorks characters from different movies to save his world and there's.

The main cast (aside from Shrek/Sean himself of course) include

-Danny, Sean's cheerful and over exuberant best friend

-Flora, a woman from a rich family who has a budding relationship with Sean

And

-Pila, an adventurous man who is suspicious of Sean's new nature

If the show is made in live action all the characters are played by actors who look vaguely like the conventionally attractive versions of the celebrities who voiced them, but if the show is animated all the characters are stylized the way they were in their og films (with new human designs for the characters who weren't human in the originals) but the with the occasional thirst trap moment for the adult characters.

[secondhand-snow]

I have a request on mencken: what do you think of reader being his questionably young wife? (This is probably going to end in pwp but i dont mind lol) he likes to show her off and buy her expensive things from the money he pocketed 😂 she's practically his sugar baby but she has a side hustle of being the first lady too

your mind... im obsessed this is such a good dynamic

nsfw | jeryd mencken x f!reader (succession)

The sugar baby comments don’t really get to you anymore. They’re pretty accurate, truth be told. But people don’t need to know that. 

Your relationship with Jeryd Mencken began in your late 20’s, back when you still had a bad dye job, student loans, and a shitty studio apartment. You were employed at a jewelry store, barely making minimum wage, working 9 hour shifts every day just to pay your rent. The first time he came into the store, you treated him like any other customer. Any other incredibly attractive, extremely charismatic, and undoubtedly rich customer. But all the same, when he made his purchase and you parted ways, you never expected to see him again. Until he came back to the store a second time. And a third time. And a fourth, fifth, and sixth time. When he finally asked you on a date his image had already been clouding your sexual fantasies for weeks.

And so started your incredibly complicated romance. Jeryd expected you to be submissive and compliant when you first started going out, basing his speculations on how you’d acted at your job. Let’s just say he was more than surprised when you talked back to him, not afraid to be a brat in public to get what you wanted. This revelation was more of a thrill than a shock. Not only did he get to fuck you so hard the neighbors complained on the noise, he also got to punish you when you acted out. And you acted out a lot. But more than the sex was the attention the pair of you got in public. He’d bring you to his business events, dressing you in expensive silks, showing you off to his colleagues. He loved how amazed his peers got when he arrived with a pretty little doll on his arm, how the women would envy you and the men would crave to be him. 

The gifts started as a reward of sorts. Everytime you accompanied Jeryd to one of these work benefits, everytime you made him look good in public, everytime you were especially well behaved in the open, a present would arrive at your door. Wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with a handwritten note on the top expressing his appreciation, and usually sporting a designer logo of some sort. It began as just a few times a month, but you reacted so happily each time you opened one that he started delivering them almost daily. Oh and he loved when you wore his presents out in public. Most outings with you wearing his gifts would end with him pulling you into a bathroom, car, or empty room, making you thank him for the present while he bent you over and fucked some gratitude into you. He started paying your rent when he convinced you to quit your job, saying that you're too pretty to have to work so hard. And when he sees your apartment for the first time, he immediately insists on finding you a new space. When you can’t find anything you like enough, Jeryd just moves you in with him.

When you finally get married, it’s more a formality than anything else. Your love goes beyond metal bands and a piece of paper. The 5 carat diamond ring does help, though. The wedding happens when Jeryd’s career starts really taking off, when his name starts to seriously come up in political discussions. You both knew he needed a loyal wife to further his traditionalist image, and you were more than capable to play the part. So what if your age gap was controversial, you would make sure every other aspect of your public personas was absolutely perfect. And you did! You wore the business casual skirt suits and attended the charity events. Shit, you even learned about government systems to understand his campaign better. But you can’t tame the perversion away, not completely, not forever. So when Jeryd finally wins the presidency and your lives become semi-private again, it’s a massive relief.

It’s only his first week in the White House when you can’t hold back anymore, sauntering into the Oval Office and kneeling underneath his desk as he works. 

“You missed me this much? Had to come in here while I’m working, couldn’t wait a few hours?” Jeryd’s hand is tangled in your air, slacks around his ankles as you sit on your knees in front of him. You kitten lick at his tip, already red and leaking from your touch as you stroke his shaft languidly. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.”

Your only response is a little smile as you press a teasing kiss to his public bone. Then, you swallow his dick to the base in one movement. His hand tightens in your hair, his head falling back as soft sighs of pleasure leave his plump lips. You’ve done this more times than you can count, having his likes memorized to the point of instinct. You know to cup his balls as you suck his cock, to trace your tongue along that one vein on the underside of his shaft, to hum around his length as he’s fully sheathed in your throat. If you wanted to, you could bring him to release in a matter of minutes. But where’s the fun in that? 

You release him from your mouth with a pop, taking a few seconds to deviously lick the pre-cum on his tip before addressing your husband. 

“You haven’t given me attention in so long…” You lean forwards on your knees, face moving into a pout as you look up at Jeryd with the eyes of a sad puppy. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore.”

He scoffs at that, but takes the bait enough to pull you into his lap, hand coming to your chin to force eye contact. “Don’t be a brat. Just say you want me to fuck you- without making bullshit excuses.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Good girl.” He captures your mouth in a kiss. 

It's all teeth and tongue, messy and sloppy and charged with passion. Before long he has you bouncing on his cock, face pushed into his shoulder to muffle your moans. You cum once as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, then again when he bends you over his desk to fuck you from behind at a brutal pace. You're glad the building is less busy this time of day, since the sounds of wet skin and hushed groans would be unmistakable to anyone passing by. Jeryd finishes inside of you, like always. When he pulls out, he kneels behind you, your ass swaying temptingly side to side in front of him. He spends several minutes collecting any liquid that leaks out of you onto his fingers and fucking it back inside of you, making comments that his cum is too important to waste.

The next morning you wake up to a golden wrapped present on your night stand. Inside, a remote controlled vibrator, and a note with a promise to film next time.

© secondhand-snow 2024

[wazzappp]

First bit of graphic design I've done in a year and its a fake logo for a hyperspecific AU... don't know how I didn't see that coming honestly.

Ok lets talk about why I went with 'Ghost Fighters' outside of the obvious name pun.

The main enemies the boys face would be ghosts. They are composed entirely of the suffering of people who have passed. The few memories that they have are of their worst experiences, but for the most part they just kind of exist as memories of suffering. Generally these spirits move on after a day or two, but if there is a specific strong attachment to a place or person or trauma sometimes they stick around longer. Someone who was murdered would probably not stick around as long as someone who died of old age.

The general appearance is of an emaciated figure with very few features. They usually have 'ribbons' that extend out of the backs of their heads, the ends of these are sharp and used for fighting. The elongated arms and sharpened two fingered hands with a thumb are also used for slashing.

Ghosts seek out similar suffering in their area. They cant move more than 1/2 mile away from where they died, which gives them a bit of room to roam, but if you live in a place where theres a high concentration of murder they have a higher chance of running into each other.

If they DO. It gets BAD and it gets bad FAST. Ghosts can merge together and so your'e dealing with double the ribbons and double the claws. Their roaming spaces merge which mean that they can find more ghosts to merge with. There isn't really a limit on how many ghosts can merge together. When things like natural disasters happen, you can get large ghost conglomerates and FAST.

It is very rare but sometimes the ghosts will haunt people. People who stay in one space the majority of the time are stuck in the same haunting area as a ghost. All they have to do is temporary move away until either a Ghost Fighter destroys the ghost or it dissipates on its own. If they do end up being possessed you essentially have a ghost in free roam. There really isn't bringing someone back from that.

Generally people cant see ghosts. Ghost Fighters can, of course, but there are also very rare 'psychics' who can see ghosts. Most people cant see them until they start to conglomerate in numbers of 20 or 30. By then it is a VERY large ghost mass and needs to be dealt with. The effects of the ghost can be seen (claw marks in cement, dents where they've been thrown into walls) but generally they go un-noticed by the population.

ALRIGHT. RANDOM FUN DOODLES ASIDE lets talk Ghost Fighter physiology. (it is so so important to me that Roxanne has No Chill whatsoever. SO. IMPORTANT.)

All Ghost Fighters have 'nail polish' with their corresponding color. It used to help them identify each other, but after the rise of nail polish its uhhhhh. not very effective. It's really not nail polish though, thats just the color of the nail now :)

Connection Gems rest on the chest and are embedded into flesh. They allow a Familiar to channel magic through their person! Familiars are a lot like the 'paper flamethrower' metaphor. Lots of power, but unable to use it without destroying themselves. Ghost Fighters allow them a way to express their magic.

EYES. You already know what the fuck it is bro. I don't need to explain myself here yall know me by now but fuck it imma try and find a way to reason it out anyway. Humans aren't really built to contain so much magic, so it shows through in little ways, like shining out of their eyes just a lil bit.

Speaking of which, Ghost Fighters are a little uh. Weird. You know the whole thing with elves? Where they look almost too pretty and the longer you look the stranger it gets? They have that going on. Their hair is always settled just right, their skin is dewy and almost shiny, the light always hits their eyes JUST right. Even bedheads still manage to looks planned and perfect.

SO. When you get a guy like Robbie? Whose attractive to start with but scowls all the time? When he finally DOES smile? Holy Shit. Nobody is prepared for it. Nuclear levels of pretty. Almost hurts to look at. 100 Billion enraptured 30,000 gay / bi awakening.

More stuff about familiars (Eli in particular. Need to think harder about his specific weirdness), transformation sequences, ultimate attacks, and interpersonal relationships on the way. I just. NEEDED. To get what I have so far out there dude. Brain too full. Door stuck. DOOR STUC K.

[homunculus-argument]

Whether or not a person is attractive doesn't depend on whether their appearance has any inherent "flaws". As a matter of fact, as rare as they are, people whose faces and bodies are "flawless" aren't even particularly attractive, mildly pretty at best. The biggest factor to whether someone's good-looking is presentation.

Most things that genuinely detract from someone's appearance are fixable - things like being clean and well-groomed, having a haircut that frames their face well, wearing colours that compliment their complexion and clothes that fit well, all make a world of difference, but first and foremost it's about how they carry themselves, good posture, and having genuine confidence in themselves.

Features that people are born with are never truly flaws, but simply features of their appearance. They give a face character, and frankly a person can't be truly remarkably, stunningly attractive without them. People that make people halt on their tracks almost always have something distinct about them, like a woman with a handsome hooked nose or a man with slanted teeth like a wolf. The kind of features that you couldn't remark on without it sounding like a backhanded compliment, but which you couldn't remove or "fix" without detracting from their appearance.

And even if you think you just look weird as hell, you should know that being weird-looking and being good-looking aren't mutually exclusive. Try doing something with your appearance that accentuates the features you have, instead of trying to tactically hide them with the way you dress or style your hair. Being "well-dressed" isn't about being understated, but having a distinct style, first and foremost wearing things you like to wear.

Ignore the people who advise you to not wear a specific style, item or colour that you like because it draws attention to some "flaw" in your appearance, it compliments you if you like it. There are clothes that I would absolutely never put on myself, but which look good on the person who wears them because you can tell that they're wearing it on purpose.

Think about blue cheese. Not everyone likes it, but the people who do like it fucking love it, and they would like it less if it tasted less like blue cheese. But if one of them found a random plastic grocery bag from the side of the road and found mushy, pungent, greenish-white substance inside, most of them probably wouldn't go ahead and give it a taste - even if it was the best goddamn Aura they could ever have tasted. But if the exact same stuff is all packed up in a neat, shiny package and a well-designed logo on the side, it's the most expensive damn thing in the grocery store.

It's all about the presentation.