#I think it's pretty cool and I tried to be unique with it

[benefactordreams]

helloo you mentioned that jackles has a bug power, but what exactly is this power? is it manipulation of any bugs or like bug-like characteristics or something else? trying to consider more factors to think about what is a good opposing power to have :D

ok trying to remember what I typed up in my notes a while back — he has this belt loosely fitted on his waist that has bugs in resin tied(?) on it and when he throws them to the ground, they break and the bug in said resin comes out and fights for him (he fights too obviously but his big help).

The power that's used is based on the bug. I think I for examples I said bees are like poison, spiders can slow the enemy with webs (or was this one poison??) but I can't remember exactly what I put. I remember mentioning more bugs like centepeeds (is that how you spell it?) but these are the two I remember fully (and idk if bees were poison so 💀💀)

He does have to make the bugs in resin himself and that's the downside bc he might have to leave battle bc of lack of bugs if it's too much but I hope I explained this well and answered your question caz 🙏🙏

[mcondance]

come close; hobie brown

getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.

pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader

contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)

words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!

warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3

extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.

song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!

signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾

—

not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.

you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.

"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.

"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"

not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.

but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.

he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.

not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.

not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.

"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"

"i've done it before. i made it home."

not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.

not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.

not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.

not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.

not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.

you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.

not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”

"really? you're wild. but i get it."

"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.

"what?" you smile.

"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.

not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.

not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.

not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.

not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.

not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.

the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.

not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.

not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.

not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.

not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 

in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.

not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.

you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.

you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.

not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 

not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 

he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.

“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.

“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”

“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 

and there it is again.

not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.

and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.

“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”

“then do it.”

not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.

“how long?” you ask between kisses.

“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.

god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.

the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.

you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.

he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"

you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.

"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.

not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.

"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.

"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.

"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.

"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.

"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.

"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.

he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.

"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."

"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."

and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.

not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.

pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.

until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.

it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.

"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.

you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.

fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.

"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.

"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.

"bet you are."

you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.

"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.

"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.

"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.

not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”

"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.

"mhm?" he hums.

you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.

"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.

not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.

"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.

body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.

he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.

"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.

you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."

"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."

"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.

"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.

"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.

"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."

he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.

"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.

"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.

"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."

"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.

"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.

"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.

he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.

the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.

"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.

"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.

"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.

"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.

"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.

not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.

"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.

you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.

"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.

"wan' you to cum, hobes."

"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.

"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.

the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.

not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Sealed

The plan was simple, if time consuming. Rent some apartments out, and wait. Of course, there were some preparation required. First, buy an old apartment building, something not too expensive and not too flashy. Make some small changes to the central air system and temperature control. Bring the whole thing up to code and install a beautiful, in building gym. Hire a team of savvy young women to help manage the apartments. Then, carefully and selectively rent out the one bed, one bath apartments to single, young men who showed promise. Some were just graduated 20-somethings, with a bright future ahead in STEM careers. Some were trust fund kids moving to the city for the first time, drawn to the quickly gentrifying downtown. Some were just personal pet projects that I wanted to see grow into their potential. Like this fellow:

I wanted to see what would happen on a bit more of a bear-ish body type. We set him up in Unit 514. Or this bro:

He was already pretty close to what we wanted our final results to look like. But I wanted to see how much we could push him. Unit 112, low and close to the gym. Good eye candy for some of the twinks we set up on the sixth floor. After about 3 months, every unit in the building had been filled, all eight floors. It was the first of June, around 4 a.m. when we had verified all residents were home. The overnight receptionist was sent home early for the day as upstairs, all door locks were remotely engaged, power was cut, and the new air conditioners kicked in. All subjects were sealed in their experiment chambers.

Slowly but surely, a thick fog billowed from each bedroom’s vents. It was a thick, sticky vapor, smelling like sandalwood and cool like peppermint. Subjects’ rooms were soon filled as they began breathing it in deeply. Some began to toss in their sleep, subconsciously fighting the mist, while others just huffed away and began the absorption process. One fellow on the second floor managed to toss himself awake, but was quickly sedated by an extra pump of vaporized melatonin added to his room.

As the men all settled down and opened up, the mist began absorbing into their bodies through any gap available: mouth, nose, pores, cocks, and asses. Within thirty minutes, the last of the gas has been administered, and all subjects were once more peacefully at rest. Bodies began twitching and pulsing as faint moans emitted from some of the smaller men’s mouths. The experiment had began.

The first to wake up in the morning was a subject in apartment 211. His transformation was among the more subtle. The lanky guy had put on a few pounds of muscle as his beard thickened and some hair grew in. He immediately began to sense something was off, as he felt his body and now bushy beard. He tried to check his phone. Dead. He gets up and tries to walk out into the apartment. Locked. A look of confusion sets in as he sits and tries to think of what to try next. That is when it catches him. With the power out and the sun rising, temperatures were rising. And as he began to sweat, he began to smell:

The gasses that seeped in last night were slowly beginning to seep back out, causing more radical changes. But this second exposure is different. It is coming from inside him, and carries his unique pheromones with it. This gas is heroin to him, designed to addict his body to its presence and slowly bring out the best in him. And as the smell fills his nostrils for a second time, he is fighting the urge to give in. Give into himself and what he is becoming. He knows that the smell is rancid, musky and earthy with notes of spice that burn his nostrils. But it is a lost cause. As he huffs away at his own funk, he glides his free hand down his chest, feeling thick, matted hair and slick abs. He takes a moment to feel his muscles twitching and stretching as his skin becomes sensitive to the touch. He wraps his sweaty, calloused hand around his cock, and begins to pump.

Once he begins to pleasure himself, there is very minimal risk of a reversal. The changes are rapid and extensive his body grows to match the smell that now saturates the air around him. Muscles swell, bones crack and reshape, feet stretch, and his eyes roll in the back of his head as he starts to drool. The fog settling into his brain leaves no room for inhibitions as he starts to self worships his pit, devouring his own sweat. Our scanners also begin to detect deterioration in brain activity. The pleasure center is growing, eating into non-essential regions like memory and comprehension. No part of the original subject is left unchanged as he continues to evolve into a sweaty, smelly, hairy beast of a man. And as he reaches climax, he lets out a deep roar as all inhibitions about his new form are shot out the swollen mushroom tip of his cock. He rolls his foreskin back up and shoves his filthy cock into a pair of sweatpants.

He stares at his body, flexing and feeling up his muscles. Experiment 211 has been a success, able to turn a scrawny nerd into a horny, sweaty, smelly gym bro with an insatiable need to fuck. Now we just need to test how powerful his sperm and scent are. He hears a click as his chamber is unlocked. We pulse the lights in the room with a code his mind will understand. He now knows his mission is to go over to Apartment 212 and begin round two of testing…

It is a bit later in the morning now and subjects all around are beginning to wake up and face their new reality. Through our camera network we watch as their transformations are slowly taking place, as muscle, fat, and fur are packed on and a cloud of musk begins to cloud the room.

And slowly as men finish their first rounds, their chambers are unsealed. They begin to wander and find their neighbors, mixing musks to help each other grow and change even more.

The experiment will run sealed off from the general public, at least until new subjects are needed to collect additional data points. Interested parties are encouraged to apply now to our waitlist. Otherwise, we expect to host an open house next month, with all subjects free to leave the complex and continue experimenting as they see fit. I can already tell that our friend we started with in Unit 514 will be popular.

Thank you for your time today. We expect to see you again very soon.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Pedri nsfw alphabet

A to Z. NSFW alphabet.

—Pedri Gonzalez.

summary: request.

warnings: yes. +18. smut, explicit content, headcanon.

words count: +950.

A - after care (what is it like after sex?)

Too affectionate probably one of the most affectionate in the world. He likes to touch you, kiss your forehead, shoulders and nose, caress your back for hours after making love. He loves to whisper random things, laugh and have fun until you fall asleep.

B - body part (favorite part of your body and his)

In you everything but especially your mind. He thinks you are such a cool person, so smart, so special. The way you think, express yourself, free yourself, he admires you.

In him, it's probably his back. Since he knows it's your favorite part of him, he likes it when you leave your nails marked on it or when you hold on tightly to him.

C - cum (anything about cumming)

There is nothing deeper and purer than cumming inside you, he loves it. The sensation of feeling you so deep inside him, when he can feel your heat, your soul. Since the first time you tried, he never used protection again. As long as you take care of each other in other ways, he will always choose to end up inside you.

D - dirty secret (some dirty secret).

He really likes it when you wear sexual lingerie. It may not be that far-fetched but Pedri loves it when you feel sensual with your own body and that makes him feel good too.

E - experience (experience in sex)

Basic to normal. He's pretty traditional and knows a few things to make you feel good but maybe he lacks a little more experience and teachings.

F - favorite position (to fuck you)

Definitely vanilla sex. Missionary is his favorite position and he wouldn't trade it for anything. Although he likes it when you ride him, he prefers you to be underneath him.

G - goofy (how serious is he during sex?)

Serious. Too serious. Not much to say. Pedri is a man of principle and not at all teasing.

H - hair (how do he/you take care of his/your privacy?)

He downplays it a bit to the point that it's just a little hair. But he prefers it that way, it makes him feel manly and if it doesn't bother you, then he doesn't have a problem. As for you, he doesn't care either. He knows it's hurtful and time and money consuming, so he doesn't care if you have it or not, it's your choice.

I - intimacy (what is it like during sex?)

Very romantic and caring. He makes each session a unique and true experience of love and passion that leaves you completely in love with each other.

J - jack off (masturbation, how much do he/you masturbate?)

Not so much. On a scale of 1 to 10, it would be a 4. Especially when you're away from him and he wants to release tension or sometime for fun but it's not routine.

K - kink (fetishes during sex)

Seeing your eyes directly when he makes love to you, kissing your breasts, kneading them, sucking them. He's not a man of many fetishes but you riding his face might be one of his more recent fetishes.

L - location (places to have sex)

His room or yours. Somewhere private where both of you are comfortable and satisfied, he doesn't like open or public places, like kitchens, living rooms or exterior. He prefers a quiet place, where you can finish what you start and no one or nothing interrupts you.

M - motivation (what excites him/you?)

You kissing his neck gently is the main reason he might get turned on. He also likes it when you stroke the beginning of his hair at the nape of his neck with your fingers, it makes him relax and sometimes has side effects on him.

N - no (what wouldn't he do with you?)

Anything that involves hurting you or degrading you or using ugly nicknames. You are his light, he would never do anything to hurt you no matter if it's a game. He is a gentleman.

O - oral (how does he like to give/receive?)

He is probably more about giving than receiving, as he thinks his duty is to give you the maximum of pleasure, because he knows that sometimes women don't get pleasure from penetration, so he will see to it that you get what you deserve.

P - pace (how do he like to do it?)

Slow, romantic, gentle but deep and passionate. Occasionally he can be dirty and rough, especially if it's been a long time since you've seen each other, but he prefers to be more gentle and romantic.

Q - quickie (do he like quick sex?)

Yes. Sometimes he has a lot of needs and would accept that, although he would like you to have all the time to enjoy yourselves.

R - risk (would he take risks? which ones?)

No. As I said before, he is not a risk taker. Pedri is quite traditional and that doesn't mean he doesn't do things right. But he doesn't like to take risks that involve some kind of interruption or lack of respect.

S - stamina (how long does it last during sex?)

Two or three rounds depending on the moment. Sometimes when he has training he will last only one round but if he's on his days off, he won't give you a break.

T - toy (you use toys?)

No. He has never used them before and it's not something he's interested in at the moment. He understands if you want to have them or recommend using them but if it were up to him he wouldn't use them. At most he might use some handcuffs but no more than that.

U - unfair (how much does he like to provoke you?)

Medium. He doesn't like to play with you so much but sometimes it's unavoidable and he likes to take you to the edge to make it more pleasurable.

V - volume (how loud is it during sex?)

Not so loud but sometimes he lets himself get carried away and can be surprised. Although in you, he really likes it when you scream, let loose and show how much you like it.

W - wild card (small random story)

Your boyfriend's kisses moved across your shoulders and chest as you stifled the gasps that came from your mouth. Your fingers were tangled in his hair and you were gently gurgling on them, Pedri's tongue was working wonders on your skin. The trail of kisses started down your body as his fingers caressed every nook and cranny, his tongue left wet trails around your belly and continued down until it reached your thighs.

Your chest boiled with heat as you felt his breath hit your crotch and you wanted to scream for him to touch you. Pedri smiled seeing you in such a way, your chest was rising and falling, your cheeks were red, your lips kept biting down holding back the urge to moan loudly.

The first kiss on your center made you sigh harshly as you took in as much air as possible. You felt so wet you couldn't take it anymore.

With his tongue he licked your slit and pressed his finger a little on your clit making you gasp. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you felt him lick you harder again.

The brush of his beard against your thighs made you moan in desperation, it was too pleasurable a tingle that made you shiver under his touch. Lately Pedri had grown his beard and you found that so attractive, so much so that you had fantasized about this moment. And now you were in heaven.

X - x-ray (how big is it and how?)

It's somewhere between thick and thin, a little veiny and it's long. Perfect for you, perfect for him. He knows how to use it very well, it's his pride and joy.

Y - yearning (how long can desire last?)

Honestly he can last quite a long time without intercourse so it's not a problem for him but if he has you with him, he will obviously take the opportunity and make you his every chance he gets.

Z - zzz (how is his sleep after sex?)

He can stay up for hours if you're with him. Sometimes the adrenaline and excitement of the moment leaves him quite refreshed. So he likes to chat with you, play with you, cuddle and stuff.

After at least 10 orders I was finally able to bring it. Thanks for the support and filling my inbox 🤣 I hope you like it 💌 @jfbidnk757

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Pretty Saviour

Dick Grayson x Metalhead!Reader

wc: 1.2 K summary: You save Nightwing and Batman one night in a close call, being stuck with Dick forever warnings: fluff, none, no y/n used a/n: (divider), i know that pic is probably overused but i'm still weak for it.

Ever since you‘ve spontaniously patrolled a new route in your neighbourhood and miraciously saved Nightwing and Batman, that blue bird has been attached by your hip. It‘s not like he annoys you, but sometimes you start to prefer the black bat rather than the overly happy-sunshine vigilante.

Like now, talking your ears off about his favourite band he used to listen to in his angsty teenage years. You don‘t interrupt him, not wanting to make him feel bad about getting some small facts wrong since that band is the most mainstream rock band you have ever seen and heard.

To avoid his constant yapping, you‘ve tried to change your patrol route completely, but it‘s no use. He always finds you and claims it‘s just ‚a lucky coincidence‘.

In reality, Dick has been completely smitten over you from the moment he saw you effortlessly take down several men in front of him who were about to kick his ass. You saved Batman‘s ass too, but he refuses to acknowledge either that fact or you.

Eventually, he continues to talk on and on about that super-cool and ultra-heavy band, really just making you smirk in amusement. There is no need for music at work when you have a walking podcast following you around and helping you take down muggers together with insanely impressive acrobatic skills. You still wonder how his bones move like that, because there‘s no way a normal human being is capable of the same things he does.

But he is just as amazed by you at the same time, always staring as subtly as he can, wanting to take in every detail of your unique suit and accessories you wear with it. Yes, he never saw your face before, but he is in love. It‘s gotten to that point where even Alfred awaits you for dinner any day.

At the moment, he is crouching down beside you at the edge of the rooftop, keeping watch over a troublesome area in this part of the neighbourhood. He glances at you every so often, finally catching a glimpse of your ear under your shagged hair. Dick keeps his eyes on the shiny piercings, eyes widening once he spots the stretched earlobe. It‘s not much, but adds an even extremer look to everything else.

»Woah, you have stretched ears?«

You share a glance at him, tucking some hair behind your ear for him to see better.

»Just noticed?«

He gives you a goofy smile in return and reaches up to lightly touch it, admiring the plug you have in it. It‘s shiny in the moonlight, seeing the spiral design on it. Dick smiles softly at it, keeping his eyes on you while poking it gently.

»Cool.«

He sounds like an amazed child who sees the ninja turtles for the first time. It‘s amusing and also flattering to know that someone as big and strong thinks you are cool.

The patrols always have some kind of routine between the two of you. You both take a break at some point, making him discover another small detail about you and asking questions for the rest of the few hours. He has also learnt about the bands you listen to from your various pins and patches on your vest, listening to some of their songs once he gets back home. Just to expand his music taste and playlist, of course.

But he won‘t lie; he loves every single detail and fact about you, likes how casual you are when explaining new stuff to him, or gets into your element if he luckily asks you about an interesting topic. Like, the evolution of the emo and metal scene throughout the years. It‘s as if you get even more passionate talking about those than beating and locking up criminals.

Dick has learned a lot from you already, considering himself an expert at this point because of how detailed you explain certain topics and bands to him. Even his brothers know some stuff about certain bands because he can‘t stop talking about you around them. Every time you aren‘t around, he misses you a lot more than he‘d like. It‘s a shame you haven‘t exchanged any kind of socials or numbers because of your safety. This is one thing he is starting to hate every day more and more about you. The fact that he can‘t contact you in any way is humiliatingly sad.

And every once in a while, he gets you small gifts. Such as new pins of that one band you once mentioned to him, new ear plugs with a cool design, and silly stickers he knows you‘ll like.

You have a total of fifteen pins, four pairs of new gauges for your ears, and an endless amount of stickers because they‘re too easy to find. All from Dick, from the past month.

These gifts and the way he always listens and remembers details about your interests make you fall harder and harder for him. At first, you didn‘t really see the appeal of him. But now, hanging out with him unwillingly, has shown you just how cute and attentive he really is. You even got him a shirt of his own favourite band one day, and it seemed like he would drop down to one knee and propose at any moment. But he held himself back, he still has some self-control after all.

Once he noticed the new style in your hair, he really tried to think of ways on how to impress you in more ways than knowledge. He tried to convince Alfred to dye his hair blue, or at least get some stripes into it, but he refused, saying he shouldn‘t make impulsive decisions like that. But once Dick mentioned it‘s because you got these silly stripes and racoon tails in your hair, he teased him for the rest of the evening of his painfully obvious crush.

»I just like their style!«

»That‘s what you have been telling us for the past three months.«

And it went on with Dick showing you endless tricks and athletics, explaining the theory of each move and how to not break your neck while doing so. You are impressed by his skills, it feels like being children again, showing each other what cool stuff you know and are able to do, getting still impressed by the easiest and normal stuff.

You both go on bike rides together from time to time, competing sometimes as well. He is able to do wheelies, but that‘s a little too dangerous for you to copy.

Eventually, your friendship got really close after those three months of patrolling together and sharing knowledge with each other, of Dick making a fool of himself just to impress you in some way, and endless small gifts.

Despite everything, you‘re trying to keep it professional with him some way. But it doesn‘t help when he is using every single opportunity to touch or stay close to you. It‘s not like you are complaining, you secretly enjoy him being more touchy and sweet to you. You mostly mask it with being playful and pretending to not get the subtle hints he is dropping at you.

There‘s still some sort of trust you have to gain from him in order for you to reveal your identity to him, even when he is smart enough to find it out himself. But he won‘t do it, both in respect towards you and in hopes you will actually trust him enough some time to reveal yourself.

←MASTERLIST

a/n: an open ending, how original. anyway, hope you enjoyed it!!

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 | darren/pig x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 | since little babbas, it's been pig and runt, runt and pig-- king and queen of your own little world. you were happy with just that, but now that you're eighteen, pig wants more... more than you're prepared to give, it seems. and he's prepared to take it if he has to.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 | 4.6k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 | NONCON SMUT (18+ only; virginity loss, creampie/breeding, fingering, coercion and force, slapping, hair pulling), extreme creepiness/yandere vibes, innocent reader, niche irish accent/dialect so bear with me on the slang and such

(I tried to capture the spirit of the very unique dialogue style of the play/film, while still making it vaguely intelligible and hopefully keeping it from being too upsetting-- but this is definitely one of the weirdest things I've ever written. proceed with caution as always.)

You laid awake that night, thinking endlessly about how he’d kissed you.

Why’d he done that?  What’s he thinking?

You felt a little sick and a little dizzy every time you remembered it— it was just weird.  You’d never imagined kissing Pig— or Pig kissing you— even if other kids had been joking about it since you were wee.  Now that he’d gone and done it, pinning you to that wall and pressing his lips on yours (oddly sweet, for how hard his fingers dug into your arms), you wondered if it was what you should’ve expected.  You just assumed it would always be the two of you— Pig and Runt, King and Queen— but never pictured it changing.  But things change, don’t they?  Boys and girls become men and women, husbands and wives, dads and mams.  It’s just what happens.  But you never thought about it happening to you and Pig…

It played over and over in your mind: his cold eyes, his soft lips, his fast breaths against your face.  “Please, Runt?” he’d whispered, looking heartbroken and desperate like you’d never seen.  Begging you to let him kiss you, but he’d taken your first kiss and not even warned you— what were you supposed to do?

The same questions swirled in your mind when you heard the knock at your door the next day.  You knew it was him, and you knew that he knew that you knew it was him… 

“Lemme in, Runt,” he demanded from the other side, and you stood up and quickly opened the door.  He was leaning against the frame, looking down— like a little boy, ashamed and getting scolded.  He brushed past you and sat on your bed, and you shut the door.

“Pig,” you breathed, not sure what else to say.  A longer silence passed.

“Y’mad at me so,” he noticed, wringing his hands in his lap.

“No,” you denied with a sigh, sitting beside him on your bed.  “No, Pig— jus’ don’t understand… why’d you go an’ do that, then?”

“Ah,” he shrugged, looking away from you, “I-I told you already, think you’re pretty.”

But it wasn’t that, you knew it wasn’t only that.  “What you want, Pig?” you asked him quietly, and he looked at you again.  He smiled a little, his eyes looking you up and down quickly.

“Just a kiss, Runt,” he promised quietly.  “Only one.”

“Got one already,” you frowned as you crossed your arms.  “Stole it.”

He leaned in closer to you until you could feel his breath on your neck.  “Couldn’t help it,” he offered quietly, “m’sorry— just needed to kiss you.”

You turned and looked at him again, his face so close that you shivered a little.

“Should let me kiss you again,” he said, “see if y’like it this time, so.”

You hesitated, staring into his icy blue eyes.  “Think I will?” you wondered.

“Yeah, scared you before,” he said, “didn’t tell you nothin’ before I did it— that’s why you didn’t like it.  Try again, yeah?”

You bit your lip, seeing how he smiled at you— it didn’t match his eyes.  His smile was friendly and soft, but his eyes were darting back and forth between your own, anxiously searching them.  He wasn’t nearly as relaxed as he wanted you to think he was; he looked a little terrified.  It actually relieved you more than the cool-and-collected act did— you were terrified, too.  And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Please,” he whispered.  

The last thing you wanted was to hurt him, and you knew you would if you turned him down.  Nervously, you nodded, and the way he smiled at you warmed your heart.  He grabbed your face— gently, still— and pressed his lips to yours.  You tried to kiss him back this time, moving your lips slowly with his, and his thumb stroked your cheek as he tilted his head a bit more.

When he broke away a few moments later, he smiled at you with his face close to yours, and put two more pecks on your lips before finally letting go of your head.

“Love kissing you,” he mumbled, “taste so sweet, Runt…”

You smiled a little at the compliment.  “You taste like toothpaste,” you admitted with a giggle, and his cheeks got a bit pinker.

“Ah, Runt,” he cooed, “jus’ didn’t want you tastin’ my lunch— s’not what you want, is it?  To kiss me and taste Tayto crisps?”

You laughed and shook your head, while he pulled you closer and wrapped you up in his arms.  You shivered a little as he kissed the top of your head, inhaling deeply the scent of your hair.

He grabbed you by it suddenly, wrenching your head back and kissing you again— harder, and shoving his tongue into your mouth.  You moaned a little in shock and protest, but he just moaned back at you.

“Pig!” you managed to yelp out, muffled by his lips, and he hummed proudly.

“Need ya, Runt,” he groaned, letting go of your hair and starting to hold you tightly.  You whimpered as he kissed you so hungrily, unsure what to do or think.

“Jus’ a kiss, Pig,” you reminded him, but he groaned and started to hold your neck, moving his hand down to the collar of your t-shirt.  

“Jus’ a kiss,” he repeated, grabbing your shoulder painfully tight to keep you still as he started to kiss on your jaw.  “Jus’ a kiss, so— no more?”

“No, Pig,” you insisted, really thinking he would stop; but you both heard the whimpery moan that you let out when he kissed the very right spot on your neck…

“Oh,” he purred, moving his hand to tickle your chest again, “Runt like it— like the kisses?  Moan again all pretty, girl…”

You yelped and slapped his hand when it started to dip into your shirt, touching the edge of your bra.

“Eh!” he whined, backing away and shaking his hand out.  “What’cha slap Piggy hand for?”

“One kiss, you said!” you reminded him with a whine.

“Sorry, pal,” he laughed, “thought you liked it— way you moan an’ all…”

You bit your lip, because you couldn’t deny that it felt good— but the alarms in your head had gone off the second he touched under your shirt.  What did he have to do that for, if you were just kissing?

“S’okay if you’re scared,” he promised, “doesn’t mean we can’t—”

“Stop,” you said sharply, turning away a bit, needing more time to think.  You crossed your arms and turned away, and he slid closer to you on the bed.  

“Runt, I—”

“Stop talkin’, Pig,” you pleaded.  “Don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

He laughed nervously, looking away and then back at you; his hand came to rest on your arm.  “Pig never hurt Runt,” he promised.  “You’re my life.  I’d never hurt you.”

“Mine too,” you returned softly, meeting his gaze again.  It wasn’t really that you were afraid he would hurt you… it just made you feel strange.  “Don’t feel right, this,” you told him.

His smile fell, and he looked at you with the saddest eyes— you couldn’t take seeing them, so you looked down, but he reached and turned your chin so you’d look at him again.  “How’s it not feel right, us?” he wondered.  “King and Queen— s’always us, pal.”

“Eh, I know,” you breathed, “but… not like that.”

“Not like kiss?” he pressed, lowering his voice, his fingers dragging along your arm and down to yours, where he tickled your hand until you turned your palm up for him.  “Not like touch?”

A shaky sigh fell from your lips as his fingers tickled your hand.

“Not like…” he continued, whispering now, watching your face as you watched his hand, “fuck?”

He reached under your shirt suddenly and your hand instinctively raised to hit him again, but when it came down his other hand caught it harshly at the wrist.

“No slap,” he warned sharply.  “I’s only talking, Runt—”

“Talkin’ about a fuck!” you noticed with a frown.  “Pig, we can’t—!”

“Why not?  We grown,” he insisted.

“But… but we…” you mumbled, looking at him and losing your train of thought.

“Wanted you, Runt,” he admitted with a sigh as you looked at him.  “Wanted you so long…”

“You did?” you pressed nervously, and he must have confused your shyness for coyness, because he smirked and nodded before pulling you a little closer.

“Held your hand at night,” he whispered in your ear, “had the other one on m’cock, real tight…”

He smiled and licked his lips, but you pushed your legs together shyly.  He’d really been doing that while you were holding his hand?

“So pretty, Runt,” he praised softly, fingertips running up those clenched thighs, “prettiest girl there is, yeah?  Only girl worth looking at, I think— can’t be another but you, Runt, s’gotta be you.”

You looked away, unsure what to think or feel about that.  You’d never really thought about Pig being with any other girl, he’d certainly never shown interest in any— but did that mean you had to be with him?

He started to lift up the bottom of your shirt, and you jumped slightly as you tried to push his hands back down.  “Why don’t you let me see you?” he pouted.  “Used to have baths together.”

“When we was babbas,” you remembered, “s’different now.”

“Why’s it gotta be different?” he shrugged.

You never agreed to it, you just stopped fighting it— he lifted your shirt again, and you nervously let him take it off of you; a shiver passed over you from the slight chill in the room.  

“See?  Not so bad,” he said.  “Now the bra too—”

“Pig,” you whimpered, “feels weird.”

“I know,” he agreed, “but doesn’t it feel good, too?  Tingly, right between t’pretty legs?”

All these compliments only added to your confusion— because yes, it felt nice and sweet when Pig said such lovely things to you.  And he was right, too: his fingers tracing the edge of your bra did make a hot, strange feeling stir between your legs.  You didn’t want him to touch you there, really, but you also got the sense that if he did, it would help satisfy this sudden need for pressure.

“Show me how you take it off, Runt,” he insisted, and you shakily reached behind your back to unclasp the bra.

He sighed slightly when you opened it, but before you could slide the straps off, he reached up and held your shoulders.  Pushing you back (gently) onto the bed, he laid you on your back and hovered over you with the strangest, softest expression on his face; then he guided the straps down your arms, his breath catching as he exposed your chest to him.

It made your whole body break out into goosebumps when he stared at you like that, letting your bra fall on the floor.  He looked awestruck as he ran his hands up your stomach— your own breath picking up a bit as they got higher and higher— until he delicately reached your breasts, fingertips brushing against your nipples.

You almost whimpered but you bit your lip instead; his eyes were glued to them, cupping them in his hands and starting to squeeze a little more firmly.  He choked on nothing when he ran his thumbs over the tips and saw them get a little harder.  “Prettiest tits, Runt,” he groaned out his praise.  “Look so ready for Pig to lick them…”

He leaned forward and ran a wide, flat tongue over one bud as you moaned, then closed his lips around them.  You didn’t mean for your back to arch into it, or for your hand to come down and pet his hair— but you couldn’t help it.  The strangeness of all this had made them so sensitive, and every swirl of his tongue around your nipple made a pulse hit between your legs.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly as he moved from one to the other, looking up at you with bright and needy eyes.  You both were panting when he lifted himself up to look at you with a grin.  “Could suck on them for hours, Runt, if y’keep makin’ the pretty noises for me.”

He kept his mouth on one of them and held the other in his hand— but the second hand moved down your side, to your hip, to your shorts—

You clamped your legs together again, and he frowned as he pulled his mouth away from you.  “Open t’legs, Runt,” he whispered.  “Let me feel.”

You sighed a little, heart racing, and obeyed, hesitantly relaxing and spreading your legs.  His hand touched outside your shorts first, running over the fabric and cupping you through them.  “P-Pig,” you mumbled out as he pet you, his breaths heavy and uneven as he looked down and watched his hand move over you.

Shoving his hand in your shorts, he groaned as he cupped your heat in his palm, and you squirmed a little.  His fingers explored between your lips, groans escaping your throat before you could stop them.  This felt incredibly strange, being touched somewhere no one else ever had before, and you groaned a little as he seemed to be trying to feel everything until he could memorize it or something.

He swirled his fingertips around your opening, smiling proudly at the squelchy sound it made.  “You can hear it, Runt— ‘cause it wants me, see?  Little hole wants Pig in it.”

He slipped a finger in, making you bite your lip while his fell with a heavy sigh.

“Warm,” he said simply, his eyes looking a little darker as he felt inside you.

He pulled his finger out and brought it up to his face, taking a deep inhale beside the shiny digit as you bit your lip nervously.  

“Fuck, Runt, smells good,” he groaned.  “Smells fuckin’ good…”

He licked his finger next, humming at the taste.

“Wanted a taste for a while, yeah?” he admitted with a lower voice.  “D’ya ever think about it, Piggy licking your little cunt?  Thought about my tongue inside you?”

You shook your head, but he didn’t seem to believe you.

“Thought about it,” he informed you— obviously.  “Wanked and thought about it, sweet little Runt sitting on my face; making you come, kissin’ you there.  An’ thought about you tasting me, too— pretty lips on my cock, that sweet tongue…”

Gasping, you looked away; you shuddered as he started to kiss your neck, and you reached up to push him away but ended up just holding onto his shoulders when his tongue tickled your pulse.

You whined loudly when he reached into your shorts again and slipped two fingers into you— the stretch stung and made your hips jerk.

“Too much, Pig!” you told him, trying to push his hand away.

“Too much?” he repeated with a laugh.  “How’s the cock gonna fit if the finger’s too big?”

The hand trying to stop him ended up just holding his wrist as he curled his fingers inside you, making your legs shake completely on their own.  

You were a bit relieved and disappointed at once as he took his fingers out of your shorts, but then you sat up and tried to jump away when he hooked both hands into the shorts to try to pull them down.  “What’s wrong, then?” he asked.

“D-don’t want you to see,” you mumbled.

“Already touched, Runt, lemme see now,” he insisted, but you moved your hips away again with a pout.  “Okay,” he relented, and for a second you thought that meant he’d stop making you do all these things, but then his hand moved to start opening his jeans, “I’ll show you first— to make it fair, so.”

You instantly shut your eyes tight when you caught a glimpse of it, the big white thing he pulled out in front of you; but then you found yourself looking, like you couldn’t help it, out of morbid curiosity.  And then you just felt even more terrified, because of how thick it was, how it flexed in his hand as he held it tightly, how there was a little drop of clear liquid leaking from the tip…

“I—” you stammered, not even sure yourself what you were going to say, but he interrupted you.

“Touch it, Runt,” he whispered, somewhere between a plea and a demand.  “Touch how hard…”

You shuddered as you brushed your fingers over him and the silky smooth skin of his cock, feeling empty and hollow— you couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were touching Pig there… 

“Do you think it’s gonna fit, Runt?” he taunted softly.  “Do you think little cunt’s gonna hurt with the big cock in it?”

“Pig, maybe not today…” you suggested weakly, overwhelmed by what you’d already done without even imagining what was next.  “Maybe wait—”

“Wait, eh?” he frowned.  “Mean girl, makin’ Pig wait so long an’ then some more— gettin’ the boy hard like that and wantin’ to stop now—”

“M’not ready,” you tried to explain, but he kept going, snarling at you as his anger grew.

“Little tease!” he accused.  “Lettin’ me kiss you an’ all that— touch you an’ suck the little buds, all lyin’ to me that I could have you— you’re lyin’!  Thought we’s pals, Runt.”

“Pals, yeah!” you agreed.  “Forever!  But—”

“Then let me feel,” he demanded.  “Let me be inside… s’jokin’ earlier, it won’t hurt you.  Pig never hurt Runt.”

You whined and looked away, and Pig put his face right by yours, breathing warmly onto your neck.

“Never,” he swore again.  “I can make you feel good.  Promise.  It feels good, Runt… s’good to have the cock inside, for both.  If you don’t like, we stop.”

“Okay,” you blurted out.  “Okay, Pig… we can try.”

He smiled and sat back between your legs, pulling your shorts and panties down and biting his lip as he touched again with a full view this time.  “S’pretty, Runt,” he praised quietly, spreading you with his fingers as he examined you.

You tried not to resist, hoping to force yourself to relax, but you couldn’t help but jump when you felt his cock press against your wet lower lips.  “Don’t squirm, Runt, s’gonna feel good,” he promised, laying down on top of you and hovering above you.

“Scared, Pig,” you admitted with a little whine, and he smiled at you as he kissed your cheek.

“Won’t be so bad, yeah,” he assured quietly.  “S’posed to happen.  Boys and girls do this— it’s what we do, okay?  S’posed to be like this— me and you, man and woman.  And it’s so wet, Runt— you want me.”

Before you could decide if you agreed with that, he looked down and lined himself up to your opening.  He sighed heavily as he plunged the swollen head into you, a totally new expression falling over his face as he looked down at you.  “Ah, Runt, s’fuckin warm,” he groaned, pushing in another inch; you whined and tried to move your hips away, but he held them down as his mouth fell wide open with gasps.  He watched himself do it, too— he watched the way his cock split you, even using his thumb to tug up on your clit to get a better view.

He moaned loudest when he was all the way inside, his hips flush with yours, your aching body suddenly covered in goosebumps.

“Feel it?” he grunted.  “Feel how it fits just right?  See?  S’meant to be me an’ you, Runt.”

Just right isn’t quite how you would’ve described it, not with this stinging pain inside like he was tearing you open.  You could’ve maybe gotten used to it easier if he’d just stayed still, but he started thrusting right in as soon as he’d slipped inside— you tried to reach down to grab his hip, a chance to slow him down, but he grabbed you at the wrist and pinned your hands down.  “P-Pig,” you choked out, “you’re hurting me—”

“Shh,” he breathed, “s’not gonna hurt if you give it a minute.  Fuck, Runt, y’feel that?  It’s so good, Runt… such a good, wet hole…”

You started to sob then, but he ignored it.  “Said you’d never hurt me,” you reminded him— but he only heard what he wanted.

“So big, I know,” he said proudly, pulling back enough to look down at the sight of himself inside you.  “Look’it that,” he groaned, “all that sticky juice, soakin’ my cock, you’re such a good girl for me now, yeah?  Runt be good for Pig…”

Another whine jumped from your throat as he moved faster, the sound of skin hitting skin beginning to fill your room.  

“Ah, fuck, Runt,” he moaned louder, “s’fuckin’ tight… saved it for me, wanted me to be the one to break it in, yeah?  Needed my cock to open y’up, I know it— ah, needed Pig’s cock, didn’t ya?  Wanted to beg for it all sweet-like?  Pig, need your cock— fuck me, Pig— say it like that.”

“No,” you whimpered, whining as he squeezed your wrists harder.

“Say how I told you,” he demanded.

You shivered a little, trying to find the courage to say something like that; it came out as a shaky, tense whisper.  “F-fuck me,” you begged under your breath, and he growled before kissing your neck messily.  His thrusts got a bit faster and rougher— and deeper, which you hadn’t even realized was really an option since it never seemed like he was holding back before.

“Dirty little Runt, needs a mean fuck,” he grinned.  “Wants it hard.  But m’gonna be nice with you— make it all sweet for the pretty Runt.”

One hand moved to hold tightly onto your hip— too tight, really, enough to bruise— and he changed the way he moved inside you: a bit faster yet again and somehow more tender, more intentional.  You moaned before you could stop yourself, the crying suddenly stopping, as a different angle making his cock’s fat tip rub against some little spot inside you… it still felt horribly strange, having Pig on top of you and inside of you, but there was a sense of satisfaction building with it as well.

“Nobody else ever gonna touch you, Runt,” he informed you with a heavy sigh.  “Nobody gonna touch the Runt but Pig— nobody else get to see the pretty tits, nobody else get to feel inside.  It’s all just for me.”

He purred when he noticed the way your face relaxed and your body went a bit limp; you felt warm all over, especially where he filled you, and the pain was gone— at least, the physical pain.  Your head still hurt with confusion and shame.

“See?” he smiled wide— impossibly wide— as you shuddered under him.  “So good, Runt— y’like it, hm?  Pig’s cock in you, you like it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you panted, whimpering as he fucked you a little more desperately now, not quite as patient as before.  “Yeah— feels good…”

“How it’s supposed to be,” he insisted again, losing his smile to a series of heavy breaths and moans.  “How it’s gotta be, Runt— gotta be me and you, King and Queen, an’ m’gonna be inside you when I want.”

You shuddered, already overwhelmed by this, let alone a standing order to be fucked whenever he wanted it.

“Such a pretty hole,” he groaned, holding onto your shoulders to keep you steady as he rocked his hips faster.  “Can’t wait to fill it up…”

Your eyes went wide when you realized what he meant by that.  “N-no, Pig!” you choked out.  “Can’t get the spunk inside—”

“Shut it,” he snapped, covering your mouth with his hand, “s’gotta be inside, Runt, needa fill your hole.  Needa see it drip out, yeah?  Gonna watch all my come run out the little cunt…”

Your muffled whimpers just spurred him on more, his teeth bared as he growled by your ear.

“Give Runt the seed, yeah?” he grunted, fucking you harder.  “Fill the needy fuckin’ hole— s’wet ‘cause it needs it.  You need me.”

He took his hand off your mouth again to indulge himself in your terrified whining, pinning your flailing arms down instead and moaning as he licked and sucked on your neck.

“Wanna be pregnant, Runt?  Wanna babe?”

“No, Pig!” you cried in response.  “C’mon, Pig, please— jus’ pull out!”

“Mm,” he considered it, “but our little babe would be so cute, Runt— your eyes an’ my nose, haven’t you thought about it?  Me an’ you, mum and dad?  Sort of funny, don’t you think?”

He laughed— how could he laugh at a time like this?!

“Tell me you wan’ it inside, Runt,” he demanded.  “Say it!  Say you wan’ all Pig’s spunk inside!”

“I—” you began, hesitating, and he slapped your face as you yelped.

“Say it!”

“F-fuck, wan’ it inside, Pig!” you begged as you cried.  “Come in me, Pig, just come, please— just come and be done, please—”

“Shh, shh,” he hissed, shutting his eyes tight as his hips moved faster.  “Ah, fuck, can’t wait anymore… m’coming, Runt—”

He gasped loudly and held your hips too tightly as he pushed himself as deep as he could go.  Your eyes and mouth open, you simply looked up at the ceiling, paralyzed and speechless as he groaned and spasmed a bit. 

“We one now,” he whispered to you, kissing the side of your face.  “Man and woman.”

You could only blink numbly as he sat up enough to look down at you, his face hovering too close above yours.

“I think Runt like it,” he grinned, cooing as a tear ran down your temple— he swiped it up with his thumb and licked it up.  “Why cry?”

You sniffled and finally managed to wrench your wrist out from his grip, but you couldn’t do anything with it, so you just brought it nervously to cover your chest.  “Y’hurt me, Piggy…”

“Aw,” he pouted at you, laying a little more of his weight on you, “jus’ ‘cause it’s the first, Runt.  Next time be sweeter, yeah?  Easier.  Little pussy opened up an’ ready now.”

He gently pulled his hips back, sighing as he slipped his cock out of you, and you winced.  He scooted himself down and put his face right close between your legs, making you try to close your thighs together— but he just held them open and used his thumb to pull your lips apart more.

“Ah, shit,” he frowned, “s’too deep, hasn’t run out yet.  Can y’push it out, Runt?  So I can see?”

“S-stop lookin’ at it, Pig,” you whimpered a little, feeling self-conscious about his face so close to you there…

“But s’pretty,” he giggled quietly.  “C’mon, Runt, just push so Pig can see all the spunk come out.”

Though your face had never felt so warm and you cringed at the request, you pushed just once and felt a warm trickle run down from your hole to the seam of your ass.

“Oh,” he breathed.  “Prettiest thing, that is.  Runt full’a Pig, all the seed pourin’ out…”

He dragged two fingers up through the sticky path down from your pussy, pushing the come back into you as you whimpered from both the soreness and the fear of what might happen now that he’d done that to you.

While your body shivered helplessly and your mind raced with thoughts, all you could do was lay there and blink at the ceiling as he laid down beside you.  He hummed as he pulled you into a tight hug.  “Love ya, Runt,” he whispered, smiling still.  “You’re my life.  It’s us now, yeah?  King and Queen…”

He laughed, in a giddy sort of way, and held you even closer as he buried his face in your neck.

“King and Queen,” he repeated, “forever and ever and ever, yeah…?”

[0310s]

boynextdoor with a fashionable s/o ⊹๋࣭⭑

members: bnd legal line x gender neutral reader

genre & tags: fluff, established relationship

wc: 1.9k

a/n: as someone who adores dressing up, i just thought this was something i eventually had to write! i've slowly been building my closet these past few months, looking for thrifted clothes and jewelry i can add to my rotation! it's been fulfilling and i get a lot of energy from the outfits i wear (∩˃o˂∩)♡

🍎🍓🍊🍋🍐🍏🫐🍇

ᯓ★ sungho 

🍀 what style does he prefer? 🍀

i personally think sungho is attracted to people who wear more feminine styles of clothing. he just enjoys how pretty and delicate everything looks! he also likes someone with a cozy style—basically anything soft and huggable. the closest style i can think of would be coquette! think oversized cardigans, knit sweaters, pleated or tiered skirts, ribbons, mary janes, and cute hats (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

🐬 shopping with his s/o 🐬

sungho would definitely be an enthusiastic partner if you asked him to accompany you to shop. he looks at each item with an careful eye, assessing the item’s quality in comparison to the price point. i also believe sungho has your wardrobe memorized, so if you show him something similar to what you already have, he’ll point that out so you can look for something else. plus he’ll be a big help calculating costs when you’re shopping on a budget! he’s definitely your voice of reason if you feel indecisive, listing down the pros and cons of each piece. and he’d definitely hold you back if you wanted to buy items out of your budget ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

🍧 couple items and coordinating outfits 🍧

sungho would def be shy about couple items that are too obvious, so he’d settle for matching necklaces/bracelets with subtle, delicate designs. sungho also tries to match your energy for the day—if you’re going for something lowkey, he’ll do the same, and when you put more effort into your outfit for the day he’ll dress up more! but he'll make sure to never outshine you... he wants everyone to see how pretty you are and focus their attention on you.

🍎🍓🍊🍋🍐🍏🫐🍇

ᯓ★ riwoo 

🍀 what style does he prefer? 🍀

riwoo would most likely be attracted to someone who has a quirky and interesting style. the closest style i can think of would be that of 90s harajuku streetwear (think fruits magazine!). he’d like someone who has a strong sense of personal style and someone who’s knowledgeable about clothing materials. plus someone who knows how to layer and experiments/is willing to take risks! i can imagine him thinking someone with colored hair, bright makeup, and who accessorizes is cool (∩˃o˂∩)♡ 

🐬 shopping with his s/o 🐬

as the most fashionable member in bnd, riwoo would definitely possess a more critical eye when it comes to shopping with you. you’d have dates where you spend all day browsing clothing shops, especially thrift or vintage stores! riwoo makes sure to point out unique pieces or items with good silhouettes. he also thinks about layering and helps you pick items that go well together with your existing closet. he definitely considers durability as a priority—if the piece looks too flimsy, it’s not going home with you.

and if there’s something you really, really want but is out of your budget, he’d most likely buy it for you behind your back, then quietly gifts it to you before the day ends. (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) he would buy items you’re both interested in, mostly accessories and outerwear, so you can share them!

🍧 couple items and coordinating outfits 🍧

rather than owning couple items, riwoo and you would borrow from each other's closets! you share accessories like scarves, necklaces, rings, hats, brooches, belts, and even glasses, as well as jackets or layering pieces like vests or button downs. at the rate you nab items from each other, you practically have a shared closet. as for coordinating outfits, riwoo thinks it’s a fun challenge to match your outfits based on materials and patterns! your outfits won’t look similar, but they’ll look like they come from the same collection. i'm sure you and riwoo have a highly popular, shared instagram where you post your looks—you'd definitely be considered a "power couple"!

🍎🍓🍊🍋🍐🍏🫐🍇

ᯓ★ jaehyun 

🍀 what style does he prefer? 🍀

i feel like jaehyun wouldn’t have any specific preference as to style, but i think he’d still like a well-dressed s/o! jaehyun would be fine with anything casual and comfortable—clothing that come to mind include cropped tees or button downs, baggy jeans, oversized varsity jackets, and chunky sneakers! but if you’d prefer something more feminine or dressy, he’ll be your #1 hype man ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ) he thinks you look pretty in anything you wear because you’re you!

🐬 shopping with his s/o 🐬

jaehyun definitely likes to wander around, but he tries his best to stay Focused when you’re out shopping with him! he’s honest about whether something looks good on you or not. sometimes it results to petty arguments when you’re very insistent about buying a certain item he doesn’t like… but he’ll cave in when you give him your absolutely convincing puppy eyes ૮ ◕ ﻌ ◕ ა. it’ll be very obvious if he likes something—when you come out from the dressing room in a great outfit, he’ll look like he’s just seen his spouse in wedding attire for the first time, jaw drop and all ᰔᩚ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა. he’ll be so full of praise for you it gets a bit embarrassing when there are others in the fitting room area!

🍧 couple items and coordinating outfits 🍧

i strongly believe jaehyun is a sucker for obvious couple outfits or items—he wants everyone to know you belong to each other!!! ૮ ・ﻌ・აᯓᡣ𐭩 he’d definitely love matching jackets or hoodies, something that’ll be comfortable for the both of you! but he’ll also want to have matching necklaces for sure, something to remind you both of each other when you’re apart ₊˚⊹♡ similarly, jaehyun loves coordinating your outfits for special dates! like sungho, he’ll match your vibe for the day—if you’re going for a comfy look, he’ll follow suit; if you want to spend your day in baggy streetwear, he’ll do the same.

🍎🍓🍊🍋🍐🍏🫐🍇

ᯓ★ taesan 

🍀 what style does he prefer? 🍀

taesan would prefer someone with an opposite style from him, so he’d find a feminine style appealing and interesting! your style could be goth, alt, coquette, or even none of those—honestly, it doesn’t really matter to him. he thinks skirts are very pretty though, whether they be mini skirts with stockings, patterned midi skirts, or flowy maxi skirts.

taesan also likes how your nails are so perfect and meticulously done and considers getting his own nails painted. plus, he’s amazed at how you’re a master at your makeup routine and the amount of effort you put into it, so he watches makeup tutorials in his own time to surprise you by replicating your makeup routine on you (∩˃o˂∩)♡ he would also love taking fit pictures with you with a digicam, and he’d love snapping pictures of you as you pose along the street.

🐬 shopping with his s/o 🐬

taesan loves shopping with his s/o. it’s a time for him to observe his s/o’s preferences and what makes your face light up. when you see an item that makes you gasp in delight, he tries hard to hide a smile at your enthused reaction and silently takes note. he's pretty fashionable, so he’ll be reliable when you ask him for fashion advice! when you shop together, taesan will be honest about what suits you and what doesn’t. when you hold up an item that doesn’t look that nice, he’ll have that pensive look on his face if he’s not into it. he’ll help you look for alternatives when an item you want isn’t in stock. taesan also offers you tips on how to layer jewelry!

taesan is also the type to see an item he thinks would suit you and buy it for you. he ends up accumulating so much that it fills an entire box—when you ask him what he’s bought you so many clothes for, he turns red and shyly tells you how they reminded him of you… which makes you flustered and sooo happy (˶ ᵔ ̫ ᵔ ˶) ♡

🍧 couple items and coordinating outfits 🍧

taesan would secretly adore matching items. you bring it up in passing but are too nervous to directly initiate anything… (づ>/////<)♡ he's initially shy at the thought of it, but when he does his own research, he grows attached to the idea of having matching items with you, someone he dearly cares for. so one day, he gifts you with matching earrings while shyly mentioning he’d love to wear them together! from then on, you'd have fun looking for matching jewelry together.

like riwoo, he’d love to coordinate outfits based on materials and patterns. in particular, he’d love to coordinate a mix of knit, denim, leather, or plaid, typically in neutral/dark colors like off-white, gray, black, or dark red. still, the outfits wouldn’t look exactly the same and would leave room for you to experiment with your individual styles! 

🍎🍓🍊🍋🍐🍏🫐🍇

ᯓ★ leehan 

🍀 what style does he prefer? 🍀

i think leehan has no particular preference when it comes to fashion, anything goes really! he’s very supportive and content to see how happy you are with the clothes you wear. he wouldn’t mind anyone with a different style from him. at the very least, he’d want you to be comfortable and warm in your outfit. he brings bandaids, safety pins, and a little sewing kit around with him in case any accidents happen—he’d definitely trade his sneakers for yours if your feet start hurting in your shoes ૮ - ﻌ • ა  leehan saves every fit pic you send him and uses them as his wallpaper, and he'd take candid pics of you too and swoon at how cute and pretty and cool you are in your outfit.

🐬 shopping with his s/o 🐬

while he’s not particular about his s/o’s fashion, he’d want to be there while his s/o shops or chooses what outfit to wear for the day. leehan loves quality time with his s/o! but don’t rely on him for fashion advice or expect it to be a productive time; he thinks you look pretty in everything and will let you know. he’s so sincere about it too that you can’t even get mad at him.

but one thing leehan will be insistent about is you wearing fish or marine-themed clothing. 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 he makes you fit the most atrocious fish-patterned polo that looks like something your granddad would wear and thinks you look hot. he sees this cap that goes “fish love me, women fear me” and full-on begs you to buy it. and you know what? you do—because how can you refuse the pleading of a pretty boy like leehan? (ㅅ´ ˘ `) he's just happy to see you dressed up in something he has an interest in.

🍧 couple items and coordinating outfits 🍧

leehan would definitely buy you matching alien plush keychains to attach to your bags or belt loops 👽⋆｡°✩ he’d feel giddy looking at your matching charms and how cute they look on you… it’s like you bring a part of him everywhere you go 🛸 and i stand by this—leehan would definitely have custom shirts printed for the both of you that say “i love fish and my s/o”. deep inside you’re embarrassed at how the design looks like it’s been shoddily done on microsoft powerpoint, but when leehan proudly admits he made it himself, you just shut up and wear it… anything for him i guess (๑>؂•̀๑)

something i’ve also observed is how in the bnd content online, leehan wears long sleeves almost all the time! so rather than have coordinating outfits, leehan would lend you his outerwear. he’s a man with a plan—but is veeeery sneaky about it. he accidentally “forgets” his sweaters at your place. he also lends you his jacket with the excuse of “adding layers” to your outfit (something he learned from you!!!). and somehow, his clothes make their way into your closet—you’re highly puzzled, but you’re not complaining (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡

🍎🍓🍊🍋🍐🍏🫐🍇

ᯓ★ networks: @onedoornet 

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" Your eyes don't deceive you. He really is real. And an actual monster too, not just a 'weird looking dog', as those funny human legends say... "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts - T. Clover - C. Diamond - A. Trappola - D. Spade - L. Kingscholar - R. Bucchi - J. Howl - A. Ashengrotto - J. Leech - F. Leech - K. Al Asim - J. Viper - V. Schoenheit - R. Hunt - E. Felmier - I. Shroud - O. Shroud - M. Draconia - L. Vanrouge - S. Zigvolt - Silver

Messy design notes:

I have mixed feelings over his design. On one hand, the outfit itself looks cool... and on the other hand it turned out to be nothing like what I had envisioned in the beggining 😭 I wanted to stick with muted colors, in the vibes of that pic next to howleen's I guess, but it's like Ruggie's design had a mind of its own, and would always lean to more punk-looking no matter how hard I tried to avoid it, which don't get me wrong- punk style does fit him well, the problem is that I had it reserved for another character already, and I wanted to repeat themes as little as possible between entries of this project.. that just may be my perfectionist side speaking though, and there is no reason why I shouldn't post this version here for the time being! If I don't get tired of working on this series by the time I finish all the main cast's designs, then I suppose I could try to make an alternative version of Ruggie with a slightly different theme! I'd do the same with Jamil's entry since he is yet another character I have mixed feelings about the design lol

Aaaanyway, the mood for chupacabra Ruggie is grunge/thrifted fashion with diy details he would add to make his looks feel unique to him I think? The spikes on his skin, although he can partially control (?) them, still get stuck on cloth every now and then. Nearly all items of his closet are a bit torn from it, but he doesn't mind all that much. I got no particular designs for the pins and badges he wears, maybe except for the brazilian flag and the trans pin which I rlly wanted to include somewhere on his clothes whsdbdshewbdi

The chupacabra's appearance vary from place to place, but for this, I based his looks on how I personally grew up hearing and imagining this creature to be like! Baisically a fucked up looking dog, sometimes with spikes and scales on its body? Yeah 👍

And he remains the same personality-wise in the AU, pretty much! At the moment I can't think of many fun facts or character quirks for him, aside from how impossible it is to take a selfie with him, much to Cater's dismay. He swears he doesn't do it on purpose! The moment the camera clicks his body moves on its own to be out of frame. Ruggie's entire instagram (or whatever the monster high equivalent of that may be) account are either pictures of a moving blur or a vaguely distinguishable sillouette of him, taken from far away and zoomed in 10x

I think that's all I remembered to say? Here's a Ruggie core meme I found on reels as extra content lol

[strawurberries]

Stretchmarks

Summary: Vash learns about those little markings he's seen on his lover, and oh God does he fall head over heels.

Authors Note: This is written with Tristamp! Vash in mind, and this idea was sparked by this post :) This is written as a fem! reader. I hope you all enjoy! (Also, here's your tag @blackkiwi! I hope you like it :) I went in a bit of a different direction so I might revisit this idea in the future!!)

Warnings: Mild nudity, sexual themes, self-hate.

Vash didn’t understand it—how could someone so beautiful, holding something so unique and precious, hate themselves and their markings? He felt bad for staring, he really did, but the damp air from the shower seemed to settle around her, water droplets becoming stars and her eyes morphing in a galaxy of possibilities. She, though, didn’t seem to understand his awe. All she saw was the man she loved staring at a part of her she didn’t hate, per se, but rather didn’t love completely. He knew he should’ve looked away, apologized and let her know that he was stunned with adoration, not disgust. Yet he didn’t. Like the fool he was, and always will be, he didn’t have the bravery to confess.

“Ah, sorry,” with a nervous grin she had tried to cover her hips, where the most prominent of her stretch marks were. “I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.” She grabbed her things and shuffled back into the bathroom, wearing only her underwear and a towel loosely draped over her shoulder, “I was just getting my clothes.” With a quiet click, the bathroom door shut and the room was plunged into a somber darkness. 

Idiot, he bit at himself, why did you just stare? The patterns though, those curlings lines and loveable little dots and spots, it reminded him of himself; when he looked in the mirror and saw his face staring back, covered in blue lines that marked him as alien, foreign. Was she. . . like him? He turned to look at the bathroom door, listening to the quiet rustling within. No, he thought, she’s human. But there was something so remarkable about those lines, he couldn’t stop thinking.

Like me, she’s like me. 

Later they sat in their shared room, the silence acting as a tyrant, holding its grip tight and solid over the melancholic atmosphere. Neither one had spoken since she had retreated to the bathroom an hour earlier; she being silent out of fear and embarrassment, and he out of nervousness and curiosity. 

After finishing getting ready for the night, she laid in her bed across the room. Vash, on the other hand, was sitting criss-crossed in his, staring at his fumbling hands. 

“You know,” he said, cringing at the abruptness of his voice, “I think you’re really pretty.”

She shuffled slightly in bed, blankets falling off her shoulders, “thank you, I appreciate it. You’re pretty as well.”

He blushed at the compliment—thump, thump, thump, beat his heart. It roared at him to confess, to open his mouth and say everything he wanted too. He didn’t. He fiddled with his hands and lightly tapped his cheek to cool the scorching redness that had overtaken him. “Earlier,” his voice was quiet, a pip-squeak of a noise, “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s okay.”

He started to disengage his prosthetic arm, small clicks and whirs making the silence seem louder than before. “I—” he gently set his arm on the ground beside his bed, rubbing the raw and sore flesh. He didn’t often sleep without his arm, for a fear of being attacked in the middle of the night, but his body couldn’t handle it much longer. It pulled and gnawed on his shoulders, making his entire body ache with a pain he can only describe as deafening. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings, but if I did, I apologize.”

She finally turned over, watching as he hopelessly stared at her with a twinge of fear and. . . something else she couldn’t describe. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she smiled softly, “I was jus’ thinking.” She could never be mad at him—not that she was mad at him in the first place, in fact, she had only felt mild embarrassment towards the whole situation. The day had been long, and even if he hadn’t caught her getting out of the shower, she would’ve been quiet and exhausted—, and looking at him now only made her feel like she was gazing at a kicked puppy.

He tilted his head, “about what?”

“My body,” she huffed and sat up, “you know those days?’ Her voice was a little quiet, less teasing than it usually was, and so, painfully somber.

He understood. Sometimes he’d sit out in the desert, watch the sunset and wonder why he felt so unnatural; as if he wasn’t a person, but a thing occupying space in a body that didn’t belong to him. And sometimes he’d cover up mirrors with his coat, afraid to look into them and see what he really looked like. And other times he’d look down at himself and shove back the tears because he was a mural of pain and he wouldn’t have it any other way but God, did he wish there were other options. And sometimes he’d simply lay in bed and think about everything he hated about himself, starting with his personality and then moving on to his actions, and then he’d think about his body and then he really felt the pain because he belonged to this prison of flesh and bone, this sacred thing, and he had managed to decimate it in so many ways it would never be able to recover. And, sometimes, he hated how he looked because she deserved better. And sometimes he, without any reason really, despised the man he was, and the way he looked. So, yes, he understood those days. He understood better than anyone really; and it made his heart hurt thinking she had felt the same way. 

In his eyes she was the most beautiful thing. She rivaled the stars, the ones he watched on that ship all those years ago. The greenery of flora and the nature of Earth couldn’t even compare. And even if some Goddess was to descend from the heavens, bearing all her glory and luxury at her bosom, he would deny it and find himself back in her arms. In his eyes, she was worth everything and more.

He stumbled over to her bed, momentarily forgetting himself as he slammed into the mattress with an abundant lack of grace and caution. “I get it, I do,” 

She blinked at him.

“Somedays I–I hate myself and sometimes I can’t even look in the mirror, and really almost everyday I can’t even look at myself,” he forgot he had taken his prosthetic off, trying to grab her face with his hand. He paused and cursed a little under his breath, stub awkwardly hanging between them. “I forgot I took that—okay whatever,” he used his other hand to grab her face, fingers tracing her jaw, “but you know what makes me feel better about myself?”

She huffed a little and laughed, crossing her arms. “What?” she asked playfully. 

“You.”

She smiled softly, “I’m glad I can help.” A little sliver of anxiety still rested in her eyes.

He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. “Yeah, so, let me help you this time,” he sat back on his knees, suddenly realizing how close he was. “If–if that’s okay. . .?” All his confidence, his burning determination to help, dissipated into the air and floundered about his mind in a wave of unease and mild embarrassment. 

She glanced down at herself, thumbing the edge of her shirt before nodding, “alright,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “you’ve convinced me.” She gave a nervous smile, one unsure of what was going to happen but trustful in the one before her—she had no doubts that he would keep her safe, happy, and comfortable.

He let out a goofy grin, slowly pushing her back onto the bed, “okay so um,” he stared down at her, blushing a delicious red as he slowly came to understand what position they were in. Her arms were slightly settled to the side, hands above her head and chest slowly rising with each suspenseful breath. Utterly divine, was the only description he could think of. “Uh, could you. .  uh, take your shirt off, maybe?” He wanted to cry when he realized his voice had cracked—uncool, so uncool.

She laughed, “alright, what are you really trying to do?” She grabbed the ends of her shirt and whisked it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. Neither of them really cared where it landed.

He waved his hand in the air and panicked, “no! No! I promise I’m not trying to do anything like that unless you want that—or, I mean, not right now! Uh, sorry!” His hands slapped over his face, covering the vague blue markings that had begun to peak through his skin.

She let out a boisterous laugh and grabbed his hips, lovingly drawing circles into his skin, “calm down, I was joking, pretty boy.”

The tips of his ears turned red, nearly drowning out his wonderful, brilliant blue, “pretty boy,” he mumbled. “Where’d that come from?” he squeaked out. 

“Jus’ tellin’ the truth,” she hummed, “now, why is my shirt off?”

“Oh!” his hands flew off his face and came to settle on her torso, nervously pressing into her skin. “I wanna—well, can I see your markings?” he leaned a little closer, tempted to put his forehead to hers, but he was too scared—what if she knows what that means? What if she hates doing that? What if she hates me?

“Markings?” she raised an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

“On your hips.”

“Hips?”

He gently hooked the edge of her pants, looking up at her for permission and when she gave it, he pulled them down slightly, revealing the little lines he had been so obsessed with earlier. Despite everything in him trying to keep his smile back, he couldn’t. “These,” he mumbled, tracing the marks with his fingers. His markings, no longer dull and scared, flowed to the surface of his skin and danced along his fingers. “They’re really pretty.” He wanted to see them in their entirety, observe how they rested along her skin and how they intertwined with one another—that would require less. . . clothing, and the thought made him blush madly, making his markings blink a bright blue for a moment.

She grabbed his hand and gave him a questioning look, “they’re not markings, they’re stretchmarks.”

He tilted his head.

“It’s like. . . little scars from when our skin stretches or shrinks too fast,” she smiled somberly, “they’re not as precious as your markings.”

He huffed and went back to caressing her skin, “I still think they’re amazing.”

“Not many people do,” she closed her eyes and savored the feeling of his touch, “so I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He hesitated and pulled his hands back, “do you. . . do you have more?”

She hummed. 

“Can I see them? If that’s okay with you?!”

She sighed and opened her eyes, “you love them that much?” A slight bit of hesitance, disbelief.

A child-like joy seeped into his voice, “yes! They’re like mine, but they’re so much prettier.”

She blinked, a small embarrassed expression coming to rest upon her face. “I mean, if you really want, I can show you.” 

He grinned excitedly and sat patiently on the bed as his lover slowly shimmed out of her pants, leaving them hidden by only two, thin articles of clothing that covered barely anything (not that he minded, but he was trying his hardest to focus on the markings solely—he didn’t want to be a creep. He was also trying to ignore the fact that this was only the third time he had seen her so vulnerable before. It made his heart soar, thinking that she trusted him so). After a moment, she returned back to bed and presented her thighs, where stretch marks were painted across her skin like a mural of heaven. “Here’s some more. They’re mostly on my legs and hips.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, “they’re a lot prettier up close.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead to her legs, closing his eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he felt her very soul, as if he was connecting to a plant, and he shuddered out a sigh. “So, so, pretty.” He was lost in her now, gently tracing his fingers along her skin, nose buried into the side of her leg and he cherished every giggle and breathy laugh that came from his lover. 

“I never knew you’d like ‘em so much,” she tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging slightly when he got a little too dazed and trailed his head up further than he should’ve.

He kissed the inside of her thigh, “they’re so. . . you’re so beautiful.”

She smiled softly, “you are too.” 

The compliment flew over his head, focused solely on the Goddess before him. The divinity that had graced his presence. He sloppily kissed her thigh again, trailing his love up and up and—

She tugged on his hair, “hey,” she warned, “you’re getting a little too close there, pretty boy.”

He stared up and blinked, chin settled in between her legs and nose dangerously close to the bottom of her underwear. It took a moment for him to come back to reality, realizing that he was in a position he’d only dreamed about. “Oh,” he blinked again. “I’m sorry!” he shot up and rested back on his knees. With her hand still in his hair, he was slightly bowed forward, eyes deliciously plastered to her legs. 

“Don’t apologize,” she whispered, “you’re fine.”

He whined a little, “I made you uncomforta—”

“When did I say that?”

He peered up at her through his eyelashes, watching her coy smirk expand into a sly smile. He stumbled over his words and quickly decided it would be better to shut up. What’s happening? Wasn’t she supposed to be yelling at him? Ashamed he had given into his desires a little too much? This was supposed to be about her, and how wonderful she was. Not him and his inability to hide his lustful curiosity. 

“In fact,” she tugged on his hair a little more, forcing him to crawl halfway on top of her to stop the dull pain in his scalp—he really didn’t mind it though, which made him rethink some things about himself. “I really enjoyed it.”

His markings glowed so bright, she had to look away for a moment. She snickered and brought one hand to his chin, the other leaving his hair and slowly trailing down his chest. “If I’m being honest,” she sighed, “I didn’t really like my stretch marks. They’re ugly and gross, but,” she stopped trailing her hand down when she got to the hem of his pants, “you made me feel better about them.” She smiled.

“I’m glad!” he nervously grinned and tried to adjust himself so the position would be less. . . intimate, but she didn’t let him. Part of him was begging her to do something, and the other part of him was screaming with fear and embarrassment so loudly he almost didn’t hear what she said next.

“So,” she drawled out, “if it’s okay with you, can I help you feel good?”

“What?” he squeaked. “Like–what? What does that mean?” Oh my god, he cried to himself, I’m an idiot! He beat down a whine that threatened to erupt from his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted the ground to swallow him up and never let him go.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself into him, hips bucking up and creating a delicious friction. He sucked in a strangled gasp and let his face fall into the crook of her neck, “sen–sensitive!” he cried. He gripped her waist, fumbling for a moment before once again realizing he had taken his prosthetic off. Vaguely he wondered if he should put it back on, but she bucked again and all thoughts fell out of his mouth as he cried.

“What do you say?” she purred, “up for a little fun?”

“You’re a,” he panted and ground his hips into her, muffling his moans in her flesh, “a tease.” He shouldn’t be doing this, should he? Should he have asked before he pressed himself into her, or was that normal? He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing here.

“C’mon pretty boy, I have to hear a yes,”

“Y–yes!” He whined and ignored the blue light that bathed them both—this is so embarrassing.

“Good boy.”

He squeaked and buried his face deeper into her neck, “oh my god.” This was going to be the death of him—not that he really minded.

[nickmarini]

Hi there!

First of all, I just wanted to say thanks for being an amazing D&D players and a very kind and open person t the many fans like myself who saw you for the first time in Downfall and were amazed. I wish I got to play with people like you when I play and DM.

I was wondering about something. Ayden is a multi classing masterpiece and I wanted to know if you have any tricks for building a solid multi class that is both interesting and has a fair amount of powerful abilities. Every time I have tried my characters end up not good at anything or really good at a single thing thats not relevant.

Okay! That’s all! Thanks for being really cool and I hope you have a great day!

Well firstly thank you. I’m def gonna deep dive Ayden, but for multi-classing in general I will sort of talk my philosophy. When multi classing it is important to start with what you are hoping to achieve. I personally like multiclasses because I think it tells the story of a character. Mechanically though there’s a few things to think about. Is the character strictly martial a mix or a primary spell caster? If you’re a primary spell caster then if you’re heavily multiclassing you are likely trading away access to 9th level spells at minimum or simply grabbing something like spell points or a warlock pact. With Ayden being alongside the Archheart and Matron I felt like we had pretty decent 9th level spell access so I wasn’t too worried on that front and instead could focus on being as good of a support character as I could manage. A full caster multiclass will still get 9th level spells slots so your spells that scale based on level are still going to be powerful.

Martial or mixed spell casters multiclass builds are not as limited by the spell access issues full casters encounter but do encounter the same feat/ability score issues.

In terms of overall philosophy, first level dips can give a character an unusual saving throw proficiency or skills that might compliment a build. I look for abilities that compliment each other so for Ayden having guiding bolt (proficiency times a day from druid) and commanding rally (proficiency times a day from knight of the crows feat) let him shoot a bolt and then have someone follow up with a free attack with advantage 6 times a day. Look for combos that might take 2 separate 1 class builds working together to achieve, that you might be able to do pull off as a single character. Also coming from 3.5 I am a firm believer in feats. Feats allow you to customize your character in unique ways that can really shine when multiclassing.

And finally have fun! I am a huge nerd and enjoy pouring over books trying to find interesting combos or figure out how to make an idea I have work better, but to be honest few campaigns go from 1-20 so if you wanna play around with multi classes just do it!

[dingodoodles]

Sorry if something like this has already been asked but I'm curious. I can barely remember what I had for dinner a week ago, how do you remember all the details for Fools Gold from a campaign you did years ago? Does Felix still have his DM notes that you can use to cross reference?

I weirdly have a pretty good memory for campaigns. Sometimes things are missed. But I remember the over all story and beats we hit. I also have expanded on what we had. The dialog is not exactly what was said at the table simply cause I can't remember that detailed. HOWEVER There are some lines and jokes that are straight from the campaign simply because they were so good I couldn't forget them. Examples of this would be: Ep. 6 = hitting Sneeze's dead body onto the big crystal. Ep. 17= Vicky asking what Sips name was and him saying "NOPE TOO PERSONAL" Ep. 31 = Elowen saying "Ok now take this sledge hammer and give him a good smash!" I could name so many more but these are just a few. Fool's Gold is a retelling so it's not 100% accurate. I tried my best but a lot I've had to change or expand on, simply cause at the time we weren't thinking "Ok how does Sips curse work again???" We just kinda went with whatever Felix threw at us. If I ever change something I talk to Felix and make sure he's cool with it. This was how the other side of the portal was created. As the original version was just a bigger and more dangerous jungle. But I wanted to make it unique and special to reflect the story. There is sometimes I have to ask Felix about a characters name ect. He does have his notes from the campaign still but they are REAL sparse. He wasn't thinking about taking detailed notes at the beginning. His notes have gotten better now. Maybe one day we'll do a live stream and read through them haha Anyway, that's my long winded answer lol

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Confessing to a FWB that they caught feelings and want something more, and the FWB rejecting them and saying they dont feel the same way TW: AFAB Reader, 18+ MDNI, ANGST, Verbal Assult, Emotional Abuse

Adam

When you two first started hooking up, it was right after Eve left Adam, and you had lost your long-time partner to another angel.

It was a win-win. You both could hate fuck the old emotions out of yourselves till everything was fine again.

Sometimes, you two would go on 'dates,' but they were always precursors to what would come later that night.

You wouldn't lie. The dick was divine, and Adam was great at making you scream and cum in ways your ex never did. However, it was just that sex, nothing more.

Till it was more, and you knew you were fucked. Adam would choose specific food he knew you liked, or please you extra in bed by eating you out longer, or even he would stay a bit later and cuddle for an hour after sex.

You saw these as clear signs that he wanted more than just Freinds with Benefits, so you were reasonably hurt when you saw him flirting with Lute and feeling her up.

Was he doing all this for you just to make you feel okay while he was all up touching another woman? Were you even unique to him anymore, or had your pussy not been good enough.

That next night while you two fucked he could tell you weren't in it like you used to be and asked what was wrong. That is when everything went downhill.

"Bitch I am not into you like that; I will fuck who I want when I want. What the fuck do you mean I was treating you nicely? I just wanted good pussy."

You were heartbroken, not only were you destroyed by your ex but now Adam was destroyign you again.

"We are nothing more than fuck buddies. If you can't get that through your skull, you are no better than the bitches I fuck beside you."

Hearing he fucked others behind your back was painful, you had been souly fucking him but he kept true to his word sleeping with many others.

Alastor

He only wanted sex when it benefited his animalistic urges, and you wanted sex to get over someone. Pretty much a good way to establish a powerful allyship.

Alastor had the joy of no one seeing him weak, while you had the pleasure of fucking yourself silly to forget the pain an ex caused you.

The only downside was that Alastor was obscenely nice in bed, probably stemming from his upbringing, but it made you care more than you wanted to.

He was rough when you needed him to be, but he had these really soft sweet moments where he would hold you close and fuck you gently.

Eventually, what was a sound deal of him fucking you to relieve stress and you to relieve pain became you needing him like a fish needs water.

You tried to play it cool and see if he might be interested in something more. He took care of you after sex and cleaned you up, brought you food, and held you till you passed out.

You knew only of lovers doing that, not whatever you classified yourselves as.

One night, you finally found the courage to discuss it, and boy, you should've kept all your thoughts to yourself.

"I find it obsured you even remotely think this is possible, I fuck you out of necessity to keep face not because there is any feelings for you."

You could only sit there, wide eyes and mouth hung open as he yelled at you for stupidity.

"I already hate fucking you I think it is repulsive this primal need to mate and be with something, I don't even consider us friends."

That one stung the worst, you thought at least even if this conversation went to shit you could still be friends but hell that's even out the window.

As soon as he said his peace, he stormed off to god knows where. When you went looking for him to apologize, you heard it outside his door, the moans and begs of another.

He found someone else to complete his deal, and that someone was no longer you anymore.

Lucifer

He was a desperate and lonely man after Lilith, and you were a desperate good-looking sinner that didn't want to fall into Valentino's hands or be killed for not screwing someone.

It was an easy deal. He would fuck you to get over Lilith, and you would be safe from danger while here in hell.

Lucifer, though, was a lover, even if he was just fucking to forget, and you couldn't lie. You were attached.

You had many conversations and open communication about how this will never go anywhere and that when he was ready for a partner, it wouldn't be you solely because of the whole using your sex for healing thing.

You held on to hope, though, that time and chemicals from sex would change things.

One particular night you thought you had struck gold as Lucifer held you closer after a long passionate fuck session. Instead of chasing you out, he kept you beside him and even let you sleep in his room for a week.

However, you shouldn't have been so naive and shouldn't have opened your mouth and lost your protection.

"I told you I will not stay with you; you are a toy to help me get over my ex-wife. Why would I love a sinner like you where there are thousands to choose from."

You held your arms close to your body as you cried. All you wanted to know was if there was indeed no chance, and this must have been the straw that broke the camel's back as it lashed out at you.

"I will never love you; you are not something to be loved. You are simply a toy, that is all. I protect you so I can feel better about myself, nothing more, nothing less."

The fight was long and primarily grueling, and he said hateful and hurtful things from his hurt place. This leads you to believe that you should have never done this and just worked for Valentino.

Husk

When Angel was released from Valentino, Husk and Angel planned to fight for his freedom from Alastor. However, Angel had other plans for his freedom, leaving Husk high and dry.

You had just become a new soul of Alastors, and Husk was your guide through all the fucked up horrors that were Alastor and his shitty contracts.

With that said, there were many nights where you and Husk would end up drunk and between the sheets dancing through the moonlight.

It was a silent agreement that you two would do this once a week to ease the tension and pain of being under Alastors' thumb. However, it also became hard for you to understand your own feelings.

One day, Husk was worshiping you; the next day, he made you feel used and like a toy. Yet, one week, he treated you like royalty in every session you two had.

You almost thought he had a change of heart about your relationship, just like you had months prior, and that excited you to feel loved and no longer lonely.

However, when you broached the topic, you didn't expect the thrown glass bottles and the yelling that followed —enough yelling that Alastor and his other souls were alerted to watch you crumble.

"You really think I give two shits about you, kid? You are just a desperate nutcase who, like everyone else, fell for the radio demons' stupid tricks."

You held your breath and tried to ignore the laugh tracks and claps from the radio demon watching Husk berate you for your sex life.

"You are nothing more than a cheap discount whore; at least Angel was fucking wanted by someone other than a washed-up alcoholic."

You didn't know what to say. You wanted to fight back, but everything hurt, so you just ran—it's all you could do. Things had been tense for a long time, and Alastor used that to his advantage to torment you both.

Vox

All he had wanted was Alastor; every time he could get close, it was like walking five steps backward. You were the closest he could get to the radio demon without getting burned.

You were born and killed in the same period, though instead of having deer or doe-like characteristics, you had a bear motif.

Shy, timid, and easily malleable, Vox quickly seduced you to use you to his advantage.

The nights would be long and passionate or brutal and rough, depending on what Alastor did that day to piss the man off.

You knew your place, that you were just a replacement Alastor and a knockoff made to please Vox when he was too overwhelmed to discuss his issues with Val.

When things began to shift, though, and Vox started to target Charlie over Alastor, you had hope. Vox was sensual and sweet in bed, showing his faithful, fifties husband's lifestyle.

He was almost domestic with you, tenderly touching you, hugging you from behind, helping you cook meals.

However, you allowed a false sense of security to overtake you and lull you into believing that he would love you as you had grown to love him.

"You are worthless, have no powers, and are barely above a speck of dirt. What makes you think I will or would ever love you? I already have Val and Vel. I just use you to get my fill when they can't scratch my itch."

You should have know this was where it was going, it was only fairytale dreams where the contract owner loved the contracted. You kept your head down, allowing the assault to continue.

"You would be better off dying in the next extermination so I could have more useful information about the angels than living here next to me saying this idiotic bullshit."

You tried not to let his words hurt you, but you knew you loved him and that this would only hurt you more and more the longer you held on.

Prompt assistance: @literallurker

[cloudiinumaki]

thank you, darling. — satoru gojo

SCENARIO . . . — when you compliment him.

NOTES ! — i feel like i could also write this scenario for the other characters but idk if im bothered ngl

WARNINGS ! — none tbh, gender-neutral as always.

REQUESTS OPEN !

i think his reaction would be quite unsurprising, he's the strongest, after all— so of course, you'd feel like complimenting him. his reaction would be some teasing remark said in that usual cheerful and amused tone of his, because satoru gojo is nothing if not full of bravado.

he's heard so many compliments before, it's hard for this one to be particularly unique or heart-warming, but that may just be because he's not partial to compliments about his strength at all.

calling him powerful, the strongest, anything like that just feels dull in a way that's difficult to explain. he's heard it so many times before, and those words often just cross over into acknowledging his power, only reminding him of the insurmountable gap he'd tried so hard to bridge.

he'll accept the compliment in that nonchalant, arrogant way of his, but it's not as if it means much to him, honestly. if you want the compliment to actually touch him, to actually have an effect on him, it cannot be a compliment about that.

instead, compliment him about something almost mundane, like how you like it when he does some random thing. notice something that most wouldn't be bothered to pick out against all the usual confidence he exudes, and his other various talents and gifts.

those will be words he hasn't heard often, and you'll notice him still slightly as you say it, a near imperceptible thing that you notice and cherish nonetheless. telling him something like that is much more likely to have an effect on him, and his self-assured grin will widen, albeit with a more genuine look of appreciation in his cerulean blue eyes.

people weren't lying when they said that the eyes were the window to the soul.

as for when it comes to complimenting his looks, again, he's not going to lie and say that nobody's ever bothered to do so (because many have bothered, and it's been a recurring ego boost for him)— but, he will say that those same words feel warmer, more touching when it's you saying them.

like, during your late night conversations, offhandedly mentioning how pretty his eyes are as you curl up next to him, your eyes crinkling along with your gentle smile as your hand traces against the contours of his jaw. the reassuring knowledge that, as you compliment his eyes, it's not out of any calculated consideration for his six eyes ability, but instead simply appreciating it as a feature of his. appreciating it in just the same way as you appreciate his pale, ivory eyelashes, or his soft, pink lips, always seeming glossed.

faint moonlight spills into the room, past the sheer curtains that tremble slightly from the open window and cool night air, and you pull further into him subconsciously.

he should close the window, his mind reminds him, but he's not sure if he's bothered to move.

"so pretty," you murmur again softly, almost entrancing to him— as if it's just necessary that you tell him that again, no matter how much you have before. your hand falls away from tracing his jaw, and instead, you wrap your arms around him entirely, finding a comfortable position to rest properly.

from those two words, satoru can already tell you're becoming sleepier, your words more unabashed than in the day. your earlier conversation with him, always about the most random topics, had ceased for the most part; and, he briefly wonders why you still insist on them if you'll always fall asleep halfway through.

he doesn't mind, though. and, as he lets you embrace him, loosely returning the same gesture, he hopes that you probably won't remember how he's practically preening at your words, putty in your hands.

(somehow, you always do).

[lilislegacy]

i saw someone characterizing percy as someone you can't take home to your parents and that irks me for some reason. I know most people would bring up the temper and the sass, but I feel that's only for people that he doesn't really like?

like, for example, when he met medusa in the tv show, he was just polite the whole time?? got up immediately as soon as she said she wanted someone to help in the kitchen??

also I don't have a good memory of son of neptune, but I'm pretty much sure that the trio stayed at grandma zhangs house, and if percy managed to survive for a while in an asian household that's something right?

i know all of these situations were all survival things, but it just goes to show that if percy tries and he genuinely has no enmity with the adult, he can be a sweetheart.

what do you think?

the thing about percy that makes him so unique is that he is viewed very differently by different types of people.

if you’re a genuinely good person and percy respects you, he’s nothing but a gentleman. he’s sweet, funny, non-judgmental, and just genuinely makes people feel safe. he’s very chill and relatable, packed with dad jokes, and the more you get to know him, the more you discover how cool of a guy he is. he was raised by sally jackson, so he’s full of respect and kindness. there’s a reason why everyone and their mom is in love with him! percy’s the best.

but if you’re not a good person, and percy has reasons to dislike you or not trust you, then it will not be a pleasant experience. he can become harsh and intimidating with the blink of an eye. there’s a reason some people are extremely frightened of him. he can be terrifying.

percy is known for his mood swings. he is known as being very loyal and having spot-on instincts. so if you’re a good person, you have nothing to worry about. he is totally the “take home to mom and dad” type. but if you have bad intentions, he’s gonna catch on real quick - because he’s sharp and observant - and you’re gonna wish you were never born.

if i was dating him, i would totally bring him home to my parents. and they would adore him.

[transmutationisms]

have you seen the articles on ai supposedly eating up tons of water a day on continuous use? bc ive only seen those articles circulate in spaces where they also think ai doesnt have a soul and is stealing art so. i was wondering if you had any thoughts. i tried to go through and compare them w the water usage of other common things (ie normal office laptops, planes, etc) but stats of this kind isnt really my strong suit

to my knowledge, those articles are true, but a bit misleading in that they don't tend to discuss the context (resource use for computing in general). i think the implicit argument is that, when it's 'ai' using water, this is a particular travesty because 'ai' is particularly stupid / useless / unethical. which is not really a good way to frame this discussion because it evades a broader conversation about resource use and technology. i think the tech sector is like the meat industry in that the current consumption levels by a very small number of wealthy westerners are simply unsustainable and will not scale; that doesn't mean that in a communist future no computers or animal foods will exist, but the idea that it's normal to eat meat daily or replace a smartphone every 24 months or whatever is pretty blatantly predicated on imperial relations of exploitation and resource extraction.

so just to say that i don't know what is the place of 'ai' in a just and sustainable degrowth communism, but determining that requires a much broader conversation about technology and access to it. it's silly to act like 'ai' is uniquely a problem in terms of the tech sector's resource consumption (i think people are modelling this on the wave of similr articles about cryptocurrency, but many of those were also silly and the ones that weren't, were pointing out that crypto mining requires massive amounts of redundant work to be done, and in that sense actually is more wasteful than other comtech).

i'm also not sure that the comparisons to, like, pouring out a bottle of water are accurate because can't the cooling water be reused? i don't know enough about data facility practices to answer that though lol

[newkatzkafe2023]

Wukong and ghost rider reader?

GHOST RIDER IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE MARVEL ANTI HEROES!!🤩

(Lmk Wukong) You are so cool🤩🤩🤩 He's never seen anyone like you ever, and he's been around for a long time. He saw you one night with your flaming skull playing with his monkeys one night. At first, he thought you were an enemy, but when he saw that you weren't doing anything harmful, He decided to take an easy and just watch you. Then your flames went out and saw a pretty face underneath those flames. Now he's interested in you for a totally different reason now🤩🤩🤩.

(HIB Wukong) Well you are the Scariest thing, he's ever seen, but for some reason he didn't feel threatened by you. You may have been on fire but instead of attacking him, you were attacking the enemies who fought him. You had deemed him innocent which brought a cute blush on his face, before leaving him alone. Wukong was now very interested in you and was curious on the story of you and your existence.

(NR Wukong) He's so in love with you, and your flaming hot motorcycle. His eyes were sparkling at the sight of your flaming body and you were so hot literally. He loves having street racing against you and finds your powers interesting because you punishment on the evil around the city. He always had interesting questions for you and wanted to know everything, about you and your bike 🏍. I guess you have a nice travel/Battle companion😊.

(MKR Wukong) He heard the story of the ghost rider, the village that the monk and the pilgrims went to were told about the ghost rider who protected the innocent and punish the sinful. When he first saw you it was he felt fear 😨 and then mildly arousal as he watched you punish a man so bad that his face had burned off And you didn't even touch him. When Wukong saw you, your ruthless nature, your flames and your harsh beauty. All he could think of was Hello Future wife🥵❤️‍🔥💋

(Netflix Wukong) He saw your flaming skull before and he was frozen in terror. He met you during a fight of 1000 demons and when they tried to get the jump on him but then he saw you! Flaming skull and all you literally wip those demons away like nothing, Wukong was a tad bit bamboozled but continued the fight along side you. At the end he found himself looking at you and your flaming skull, with Astonishment and curiosity you looked back at him, and all you said was

Innocent ☠️

(BMW Wukong) Love at first Flames for him, you were ruthless, headstrong and quite brutal in battle and he never wanted so bad as to put on a ring on your flaming hot finger. That's how you receive a stalker in him as his curiosity got the best of him, wanting to know who you are, where did you come from, and what are your powers, and what's that thing you were riding. What caught Wukong's eyes was that you were another monkey, a powerful female one at that ohhhhhhhhhh Winning you over will be a breeze.

(The Destined one) Nothing could have ever Channel his inner curiosity the way you did. The flames, the brutality, the battles Everything. Your elegance makes fire so unique and beautiful. Especially stepping away from a field of flaming carcasses, the destined one has alot to learn about you and the mystery and Fire around you.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG☠️