#Soap carving is so fun :)

[minim-of-murdrum]

Soap Scugs

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was getting my associates degree I took a course on human sexuality. It was really fascinating and wonderful. One of our assignments was to write about the first time we ever masturbated which was very uncomfortable and silly at the same time.

Mine was extremely boring because there’s nothing exciting about a five year old realizing that climbing the fire pole feels really good.

I told a coworker at the time about the assignment and she laughed and told me about her daughter. They had these really old dining room chairs with carved legs. The chairs had smooth wood bulbs going up them that the kid loved to rub on.

Her mom didn’t want to dissuade her or make her ashamed but she also needed to establish that masturbation should always be private. So she talked to her daughter and explained that she could do that but must do it in her room alone.

The result of which was that everyone was aware the girl was going to masturbate when she dragged the chair into her room to be alone with it.

My friends was my favorite though, because his discovery was in stages. He liked it when his penis would get hard as a kid because it meant he could grab it and pretend to be flying a helicopter. His aha moment was when this happened once in the shower and the grabbing plus soap made him realize something else might be going on.

That was funny on its own, but nothing could match when in the most betrayed tone he said, “It was so much more fun then, before stuff came out at the end.”

[silken-moonlight]

Bound for eternity

A/N: After looking at the poll, I now have a proper list of what to write in which order! I am so happy that so many of you helped to decide. I will upload the fourth part of the older Alpha x Human waitress tomorrow. Also: I take requests/questions to stories and characters. For now: have fun with this new little story. - Swan/Moon

You arrived home in the late afternoon, walking through the door of your flat with a sigh. You were finally home again! Your feet hurt and you were sweaty all over. Your friends and you had gone to a renfaire, which had been an amazing experience. There had been so much to see. You had worn new medieval clothing that you had gotten online. You had looked amazing, your friends had looked amazing, and everything had been really just a hit.

However, now you want nothing more than to take a bath and change into your pajamas. Maybe you will make yourself a little snack too. You put away your bag with all the little goodies you had bought and gotten there, setting it aside to put the new stuff away later.

The bathroom door stood open, and you walked through it, drawing yourself a bath. Beforehand, you undressed and put your clothes into the laundry basket. Turning back to your bath, you added some bath oils. You chose some lavender, rosemary, and also added a little rose oil to the water. Lighting some candles for the mood, you quickly got your favorite drink from the kitchen. You returned, closing the bathroom door and proceeding to get into the bath. You sank into the water, a sigh escaping your lips. How good did it feel now that your sore muscles could relax. The hot water was doing wonders for you.

Your thoughts drifted back to your day as your gaze fell upon your wrist. A thick silver bracelet, or bangle, hung there. Thick and made of silver, it was carved with intricate florals and symbols. The small booth you had visited had displayed several different bracelets and bangles for sale, but this one had immediately caught your eye. You had tried to remove it to prevent damage while bathing, but your efforts were in vain. The bangle stubbornly refused to budge over your wrist, even as you lathered your arm with soap. Frustrated, you eventually gave up and left it on.

It was a little strange, earlier when you had tried it on. It had slipped so easily onto your arm and over your wrist. You trailed your finger over the silver, thinking about the old man who had sold it to you. Considering it was real silver, you hadn't paid that much for it. It was beautiful, fit you perfectly, and apparently, you were stuck with it for a while. Another sigh left your lips as you knew you would soon have to get yourself up and start washing. So, you did just that. You washed your hair and body, choosing a pleasant-smelling soap, and then got out of the bath. You wrapped your body and hair in towels, taking your time to do some self-care.

An hour later, you walked into your bedroom, wanting to get your nightgown. However, it was incredibly cold in your bedroom. You shivered and turned around to see if your window had been left open. You almost jumped back when you spotted the...person lying atop your covers. The person stared up at you, but before you could scream or do anything, you saw it. The person had horns, long white horns, and...a tail. You blinked, gaped at the person who smiled at you and revealed their sharp teeth. You finally managed to say, "What are you doing here!? Who are you!?" Your voice panicked, and you took a step back when they stood up and walked towards you. "I am your spouse, and you are mine," they almost purred. "What do you mean...Don't come any closer," you said and took a step back. They only smiled at you, ignoring you and taking your hand with the bangle.

“You are wearing my sign, my signet. I am bound to this bracelet and those who wear it shall be my spouse.” They purred and looked down at you. “And you are perfect…” Their red eyes caught your gaze. You were confused. "What? No, it does not work like that. You have no claim.” You quickly answered. Their touch was cool against your skin, and so gentle.

“Am I not pretty enough for you?” They immediately asked, hurt in his voice. Now you felt bad: “You are pretty!” You quickly answered, speaking truth. “B…but you just showed up in my bedroom, you must understand that this is overwhelming.” You said softly, their hand still on your wrist, trailing higher. “I don’t even know your name, or what you are.” You told him, hoping to make him…what did you even want him to do?

“I am Sorelas and I am a servant of the old gods. I was bound to the bracelet by a wizard. He said I will be free when my spouse and I seal our marriage. That my partner and I will be together forever from then on. Of course he tricked me and I was alone for so so so so long…” He answered. “I know your name, I know everything about you…My perfect wife…I was alone for so long.” He purred and stepped closer, allowing him to enter your space. He was hypnotic and smelled like eucalyptus. “And you are so warm…you smell so good…” His hand wandered up to your cheek. “Can’t you feel our bond?” He whispered. Strangely ou felt the bond. “You can feel my feelings and I can feel yours…” Sorelas whispered and suddenly you felt such an intense need. His tail wrapped around your thigh.

A heat developed between your thighs. He hummed: “You can feel it too…help me…” He pleaded, his thumb trailing over your lips. “How?” You asked softly. Sorelas grinned:” May I show you?” You nodded and in a blink of an eye his lips sealed yours. His arms enveloped you and held you as tight as you could. He sighed, kissing you over and over again. “I haven’t felt the touch of another in too long…” His voice was filled with need for closeness and desire.

You were in a haze, it was not like you to just make out with a stranger. But this stranger had horns and apparently the two of you were bound together? You would figure out the rest later, however now you just wanted to make this need disappear that you felt to be filled. You kissed him again, he began to get greedy. His hands began to trail up and down your body, greedy for you.

You pulled him towards your bed and he opened the towel still wrapped around your body. He exclaimed something in a language you did not understand. His gaze was fixed onto your breasts. He touched them gently, eyes wide and he licked his lips. “You were made by my gods, a vessel of beauty, perfect…and mine.” You gasped at his touch and as his tail wrapped around you.His lips met yours as he groped and felt your tits. He massaged them as he enjoyed the feeling of your touch. His length rubbed against your thigh through his loose pants. You wanted to see his body too. Quickly you parted, opening the blouse thing he was wearing, his body now finally exposed to you. He grinned and got rid of his trousers himself. You gasped again when you saw him in his full glory. He chuckled and placed his hand on your cheek: “I am yours, please, touch me. I have not felt anything in the longest time. I am hard for you, my spouse. I am aroused, do you see my precum? It is all your work…Let me please you.” He purred as he pulled you close again. His length rubbed again against your thigh. You nodded and carefully wrapped your hand around his long cock. It was beautiful and you felt that it had ridges. You whimpered at the thought of him entering you. It would rub the perfect places inside of you. Your touch made him gasp and whine.

You grew bolder beginning to stroke his cock, his hand quickly traveled between your thoughts. You saw him slightly trembling, he was so happy to touch you. To feel you. His fingers began to feel up and down your slit. His nimble fingers found your clit, flicking and rubbing it. You bit your lip, your gaze finding his. “Please…” He said again. You nodded, allowing whatever he wanted. Quickly he was over you, aligning his cock with your cunt. His fingers rubbed your clit, making you whimper and moan. His mouth found your nipple, he wanted to please you before claiming you.

Arousal pooled beneath you when you came from just his fingers and his mouth at your nipples. He grinned, taking your slick and coating his cock with it. Sorelas rubbed his tip up and down your sensitive pussy. Slowly he began to enter you, his tail wrapping again around your waist to hold you in place. Finally he was inside you, moaning while he was finally inside you. “Otherworldly…” He whined, he took your hands and put them on his horns. “Hold onto me while I fuck you.” You did that for him, his hand went back to your clit, rubbing it again and making you whimper. Slowly he moved, getting bolder and rougher. He needed you so much, he needed the warmth, the pleasure, the touch. “Yes…yes…xes…” Sorelas whispered at he got closer and closer to his first release in centuries. You held his horns, meeting his hips in the middle. Your second release washed over you and you clenched hard around him. Your…spouse came, loud and moaning in a language you didn’t understand.

He collapsed on top of you, thanking you again in that language. You wrapped your arms around him, a strange need in you to just do that. You wanted to cuddle this strange…whatever he was. He put his full weight on you, relaxing and kissing the skin he could reach.

“Mine…for all eternity…” he whispered in your language and smiled at you.

[amorgansgal]

So in talking about Halsin being excited to hold his first baby, I thought it would be fun to write a little hc piece about all the gang holding your baby for the first time. This is more them just being a friend of yours, rather than being the partner.

Baldur's Gate 3 - The Gang Meeting Your Baby For the First Time

Karlach - There’s a whole exaggerated tiptoe thing as she walks into the room, though she’s not very quiet as she’s practically vibrating with excitement and carrying gifts, just so many gifts, gifts for you, gifts for your partner, gifts for the baby, gifts for the healers. ‘Oh… my… gods!’ she’ll whisper on seeing the baby. ‘They’re so cute! They’re so small and cute!’ She’ll grab anyone nearby so they’re forced to look at the baby. ‘Look at them! LOOK AT HOW SMALL AND CUTE THEY ARE! I just want to squish their tiny, little face.’ Oh absolutely wants to hold the baby. If you want a break at any time Auntie K will be there!

Gale - Has to have a healer help him through the door because he’s carrying a load of books. He’ll greet you first and see how you’re doing before having a look at the baby. ‘Oh, they’re lovely, congratulations to you both.’ Morena Dekarios has already sent a small mountain of meals to your house, so you won’t have to cook or go hungry and she’s made a little baby grow. Gale has brought what he considers ‘essential reading’ for the baby and gives a small lecture as to his choices. ‘This concerns conjuration magic, very essential to know, even if they don’t become a wizard or cleric or bard…’ Will definitely want to hold the baby, though he’s a bit awkward while doing so.

Astarion - He waltzes in, though is very quiet. He brings a large bouquet of flowers, some very good wine and the fanciest collection of soaps and bath paraphernalia. If someone points out he should’ve brought something for the baby too, he’ll say, ‘Why? It’s not as if they care or can lodge a complaint!’ He’ll inspect the baby with pursed lips, then give a little shrug and say, ‘Well, I'll hand it to you, darling, that’s a surprisingly cute baby. You know how usually babies are ugly, wrinkled potato looking things and you have to lie and pretend they don’t look like that. That one is actually quite endearing, so well done on making a rather pretty baby.’ Does not want to hold the baby.

Halsin - Absolutely beaming when he walks through the door. He’s carved a whole little wooden menagerie for the baby and also brought some healing potions and herbal teas to bring back your strength. Definitely has heart shaped eyes whilst looking at your baby and really wants to hold them, but doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries. He’ll instead gently murmur to them, stroke their little cheek and their belly. ‘Silvanus’ blessings upon you, little one.’ He’ll smile at you. ‘They are perfect, congratulations.’ The baby loves being held by him, they are out like a light as soon as he’s holding them against his chest, slightly rocking them and mumbling a lullaby.

Lae’zel - Her attention is mostly on you, after all you just went through the toughest battle known to your kind and given the baby is healthy, alive and sleeping, really all praise and attention should be on the mother. If your partner was there she’d probably chastise them for not fetching you everything you needed right this second. If Xan is with her then she’ll introduce them to the baby. ‘This is a baby, we are expected to tell the parents that they are cute, even if such a thing is a lie.’ She’d probably bring a little training sword and shield. ‘Once they are able to stand and walk and hold a sword, inform me, and I will begin their training. You and your child are lucky, it is an honour to receive the training the Githyanki do.’ Doesn’t want to hold the baby, but if Xan is interested then she may relent.

Wyll - Perfect guest, he does not stay too long, but gives attention to everyone and brings food, a well chosen toy and a lovely woven shawl for you. He doesn’t want to overload you with gifts and says if there’s anything he can do to help around your house, be it cleaning, mending or gardening, he will be there. With your say so he holds the baby and smiles as they grip tightly onto his little finger. ‘They are a fine little boy/girl.’ He actually speaks to the baby ‘When you are bigger I shall tell you all that we and your mother did. Defending Baldur’s Gate, fighting Ansur the dragon, defeating the Dead Three and the Netherbrain. I am sure you will not believe it, but it is so.’ He’s very comfortable holding the baby.

Shadowheart - She is so nervous and probably would prefer to wait for you to be back home, rather than coming to see you in a hospital. She doesn’t want to overcrowd you. She may even be a little apprehensive in asking how you are and while she asks if the birth was alright, she’s not sure if she wants to know the answer. But she does bring a beautiful baby’s mobile with a crescent shaped moon and stars carved out of crystal, so the light can glimmer on them and cast rainbows about the room. She surprisingly relaxes when she does get to hold the baby. ‘Oh, you’re quite lovely, aren’t you?’

[kristlewrites]

“Video Game Lover”

CW: Shower sex, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex, aftercare, fluff, nicknames (baby,mama,princess), breeding kink.

PAIRING: Eren X Blk!FemReader

WC: 1.4k

🗯️🫧: omgg, tysm for all the support on my latest zoro fic, it means a lot🩷😖sooo we’re finally here with erennn!!! I honestly had fun writing a lil needy/soft eren, lmk what you guys think :p???

MINORS DNI

(start)

“Fuck off!” Eren shouts, the familiar routine unfolding every Friday night. You on Eren's bed scrolling en

endlessly through tik tok bored out of your poor mind while Eren is hooting and hollering over the mic playing god knows what with his friends. “Yeah, eat shit!” Eren yells jumping a lil.

Impatient, you crawl towards the edge of the bed, tapping Eren's shoulder. “Yeah baby?” He asks in a tender voice almost making you feel guilty for being mad at him. He looks you in the eye, he doesn't even need you to ask the question he already knows what you're going to ask “I'll be off right after this round i promise” he adds then gives a lil peck on your cheek. Foolishly you believe him and return back to your spot, getting comfy under the covers

“WHAT THE FUCK” you jolt awake from the roar the eren caused, eyes barely open as you check the time on your phone. 11 pm ‘one more round my ass’. You look up to see he is now on a completely different game!?!? Like you cannot be serious. Taking in the situation you decide it's best if you go to bed. You remove the blanket flinching a bit from the cold of the room, and head into the shower, slamming the door just to be a lil petty.

He invited you over, and he can't even get off the game for a minute for you?? You sigh while removing your clothes. Grabbing your shower cap from the shower, you make sure to grab all your carrot soap as well as your vanilla body wash. Of course you couldn't forget your music, logging into spotify you play ‘All I want is you’ by Miguel (litcherally my fave song rn so srs.) . Turning the knobs making sure the water is at perfect the temperature you step in. 

Lathering your body, in your own world. Eren walks in, halting in his track as he sees your figure behind the foggy screen. No matter how many times he's seen it,it never fails to stun him. He is completely mesmerized by the way the water rinses off the soap from your titties. In a complete trance with how your curves look behind the glass, he loves every inch of you and would never want to hurt you. Reflecting on how he treated you earlier when he was in the game, he obviously regrets his actions…I mean the game was never that serious. 

Finding his resolve, Eren knocks on the glass trying to get your attention. You continue singing completely ignoring his knocks, until you see Eren take off his clothes. ‘What is he doing..?’ you think to yourself irritated. You could never understand this nigga. The door slides open to reveal Eren dick and balls out “Can I come in?” he asks absolutely cheesin, smile ear to ear n all.

“N-no, what the fuck nigga get out” you voiced, this man is crazy.

“Oh c’mon baby, are u mad at me?” Eren pouted, ignoring your rejection he climbed into the shower. You roll your eyes and resume scrubbing your arms “Please tell me what's wrongg” he was practically whining at this point. Still facing forward you continue rinsing your body until you feel his rough hands on your hips dragging you back a little. Your ass grazing his tip. You hiccup quietly at his swift motion.

“What are you doing..” you ask looking everywhere but him. Silence. Growing irritated, you turn around looking dead at him. His long hair washed down, the trails of water flowing down his perfectly carved chest each droplet tracing down the path of his abs.your eyes following one little droplet as it paces down his body all the way to his-

“My eyes are up here mama” He says, you quickly dart your eyes back up to him

 “Why are you here?” You ask with your arms crossed covering your nipples. 

“I wanted to say i'm sorryyyyy” he sulks, with his frown quivering.

“For what?”

“For ignoring you and playing the game.” he answers, with his head down and hands behind his back. Almost like a little kid getting into trouble. “Do you forgive me?” He looks back up at you with his big green eyes staring right into your brown ones.

“Hmmm…,” you ponder. You were having way too much fun teasing him like this. “Nah”

“Please baby let me make it up to you” Eren said practically begging on his knees with his hands rubbing together.

“And how are you gonna do that?” 

His tongue shot straight into your pussy, wiggling around a little bit. “What is wrong with you?!?!” Reflexively you slap him on the forehead. He slowly stands up, giggling to himself. As soon as he reaches eye level with you he grabs your chin, brings it in closer then leans in for a kiss. Instinctively you tilt towards him returning the kiss. He reaches for your ass, lifting you up. Both arms around his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist, completely melting into the kiss. Tongues colliding with each other, swishing around. Eren pulls back and looks into your eyes with pure adoration. He is without a doubt enamored with you, he feels so horrible for what he did to you. 

“Do you forgive me?" he asks again. 

You giggle at his question, looking down at him, nose to nose. “Of course I do baby, jus dont pull that shit again.”

You can see him gleaming, wearing that contagious grin reaching for another kiss.

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” You nod, he lets you down gently. Performing a smooth arch, with your ass facing towards him water evenly dripping down your back.  “Let me know if it hurts,” Eren says.

His penis enters slowly into your entrance. Eren nearly melts at the way your pussy just wraps him so well, your smooth velvety walls caressing his dick. It’s like you were made just for him.

“mmm” you felt every inch of him in you, moving quicker and quicker. 

“ya feel so good baby, so good.”Eren marvels at the way your ass jiggles with every thrust. He grabs your hips, slamming your ass aggressively against his balls. So loud it sounded like damn gunshots (🪦🪦😭) “Let me fill you up princess, I wanna see you full” Eren whispers into your ear

“M-mhm” you mumble, can’t even barely form thoughts let alone words. You were dazed out of your mind, the way Erens whole demeanor changes when y’all have sex is wild but you love it. “Oh baby right there!” You squeal as erens hits your g-spot. Toes curling, legs shaking, nails gripping onto whatever surface it could grasp onto, you could feel it and so did Eren.

“Cum on me y/n” Almost instantly it comes pouring down, flooding his dick. “Yeaaa, that’s right.” Eren says in a whisper, astonished. Reaching for your arms he carefully picks you, twisting you facing him with your back against the tile. Like the beast he is he continues, fucking you into oblivion. Your head resting on his shoulder, bobbing at every thrust. Your cum still lingering in your pussy making easy access for eren.

“p-puh ” you manage out, nearly numb out yo mind.

“Baby use your words or I won’t be able to understand what you want” Eren grunts, still going abusing your poor little cunt. “I’m gonna make you all nice and full”

“Eren, f-feels so g-good” you cry out 

“Yea?”

“Mhm..”you nod against his shoulder. You can feel his dick twitchin and in you 

“Hold on mama, stay with me” as he says that you feel his warm liquid cum flowing into you, sending you off into orbit causing you to release too. Panting, you rest your head on his shoulder. “You did a good job, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Eren spent the rest of the shower tidying both of you guys up, cleaning out whatever could be left and turning off the shower. Still carrying you he lays you on his bed lending you his shirt and boxers to sleep in.

“Do you want wingstop?” Eren asks, holding his phone on the door dash app. You nod, lying on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

Once the food was delivered you guys spent the rest of the night watching scary movies (the movie not the genre😭).

(love u guyss, enjoy!!)

[the-moon-files]

Linked Universe / GN!Reader - Random Headcanons abt the Chain :)

Part 1 (ur here!) / Part 2 / Part 3

Sun: Gender Neutral! Reader (you/they/them), Guide Reader

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: First, Sky, Four, Legend

Comets & Meteors: Content: None Known & Triggers: None Known.

U have a lot of Nicknames: Guide, Hero's Guide, Prince, Princey, Star, (more to be added?).

☆

First (Manga!Link):

Has "too good" of posture lol

It makes his back stiff and by the time he's in his bedroll he's confused about why it feels better, silly silly man

Just in general tenses his muscles too often, so whenever u offer to massage him, he nearly crumbles on the spot

(the others know exactly how amazing ur massages are, and are fully staring at him in jealousy lol)

Gets little rips and tears in his clothing all the time somehow??

Even tho he wont have a scratch acc on him after hours of battle???

mans could be flying around Skyloft with only clouds touching him and come back pouting telling you he ripped his scarf again :'(

Likes to be slightly in front of you most of the time, especially in new places/other Links' Hyrules

It just makes him feel better knowing he's both protecting you, and that you're watching his back

(Most Links feel at their best/most confident when your voice can be heard just over their shoulder, not that they don't love seeing ur face now too)

Sky (Skyward Sword Link):

Is slowly making everyone he knows a collection of wooden figurines

He usually carves when he's bored or stressed

so needless to say this mission of the Shadow (slow going, stressful at times like Twi getting hurt)

Has made him give u an army of little wooden figures (everyone else gets a small collection bc ur the first he gives one to)

Did i say give? Excuse me, i meant:

sneaks them as a little surprise into your belongings or clothing or other personal effects

This started bc after a week or two of him giving you wooden things you tried to reroute him to other ppl,

so Sky just made it his mission to see how many he can sneak instead onto you on any given day lmao

(Also he may or may not have daydreamed abt being able to carve u things and actually physically give them to you on his adventure before, so he's taking advantage of being able to now)

Has luscious hair at all times, little to no effort, Wars is so pissed abt it lol

Mf responded when asked what products he used (by poor Wars too) with, "wym?? With water??? And soap????"

Never ties his boot laces

You will all be gearing up for battle and go to stalk and stealth kill monsters and right before u get up on them u always have to look over at Sky's shoes and whisper at him to tie them

Is the most likely to plant face first into the ground or trip and fall on his ass from shoes untying

He just didnt need to with being in the clouds on his Loftwing all the time back on Skyloft and so he never rlly adapted to that even on the surface lol

He's also just miserable at doing a decent knot so you've taken to teaching him repeatedly how to tie them-

why didnt the knight academy help with this at all actually??

(Wind makes fun of him be hes a sailor and knows like 10+ knots)

Four (Four Swords/Minish Cap Link):

Loses his tools constantly

Well not really "lose" so much as "slightly misplace"

It drives him crazy, the Minish used to help him with it back in his Hyrule so he got out of the habit of putting things back where they belong

You've gotten to the point where you'll glance over wherever he's working so the next time he comes up to u complaining abt a lost hammer or smth u immediately just "should be over by the fire"

And ur right, 99.9% of the time its so funny

Bc Four's all like "wtf ive moved around so much since then i took all the other tools with me- MF. U WERE RIGHT."

Is rlly good at like color matching, comes in handy for new outfits

Also has aches and pains like in his hands and arms mostly

Bc of all the forge work, and absolutely treasures any massages u offer him

Likes to wear matching jewelry with you! Like earrings or piercings or necklaces etc

Also has good taste in jewelry and what looks good on everyone + you

Legend (Link to the Past, Link's Awakening etc):

Unfortunately the type of person to just shove things in his bag willy nilly

Its the horder tendencies, he just has a lot of stuffs so he gave up trying to organize it

Actually really good at styling hair, Legend would absolutely lie abt it if u asked but he can spend as much time on his hair as Warrior

Likes to experiment with new clothes, like skirts or bright colors, esp if they match some of his clothes already

U ran by some makeup one time in another Hyrule and he knew how to use it rlly well??

Lies abt random skills he has, or like thinks skills he already has can translate well,

like he's rode a horse before wym he can't drive Wild's motorcycle??

Or fly a Loftwing???

Well now its a challenge

Tbh most competitive over stupid things randomly out of all the Links besides Wild, Wind, Wars, and occasionally Hyrule + Sky + Time

Got challenged to try and go shield surfing with u once and thought that horse-riding skill would transfer and it did in fact Not.

Actually kinda scared the other Links watching u two spin out and crash ngl, what with doing an accidental backflip? Midair??

but u both were okay somehow???

Also weirdly lucky, u stg he's got some sort of ring or blessing for that

☆

IT ACCIDENTALLY POSTED I FUCKING HATE TUMBLR ITS DONE THIS TO ME MULTIPLE TIMES NOW 😭😭

All the Links WOULD HAVE been here if it werent for fucking tumblr

Ill post more parts soon if anyone is interested

Peace out,

🌙

[puff0o0]

So.. that thing with Ghost?, sayin he's as Clingy as a Slime rancher slime.. Yeah you just gave me a beautiful idea. Sooo Slime Rancher!141, But intead of it being 'Taskforce' its 'Tar force' and they basically do a large clean up of Tars all over their area/ranch. Price being the oldest Rancher of 141 and Ghost the newest. Aaa I just love the idea of them having their own little unique Slimes, lowkey seein Gaz have a whole array of slimes that he finds endearing!

OH MY GODFDDDDDD

@cutenote @shoukiko thought you two may like this

Price

☆ Okay so this guy being the oldest rancher (not by much, but still with so much experience)?? Love that idea

☆ He would definitely have favorite slimes, those being pink slimes because of their simplicity (and they don't cause too much of a ruckus) and phosphor slimes. They help light the way when he's out late at night

☆ He would adore going on late night walks with you, hunting for some more slimes or clearing up tar. I have the hc that he enjoys wood carving and has definitely carved a small wood figurine of your favorite slime

Ghost

☆ Him being the newest yet somehow managed to be on of the best in such a short time? The slimes love him but the chickens hate him :( he doesn't know why

☆ His favorite slime is the tabby cat slime, he likes how micheveous they are and how much they move around (and he just likes cats but that's not the point) He has Gaz feed the chickens because they refuse to be fed by him 😢

☆ He would enjoy doing activities with you during the daytime and resting with you at night. He loves taking care of the slimes with you and always makes sure your energy is up and you aren't hurt

Gaz

☆ Everyone loves him. Every single slime, every single chicken, everyone. Literally captures slimes in seconds because they already trust him after about 5 minutes,,, Chickens adore him, they eat more whenever he's the one feeding them

☆ Very protective over the chickens, hates whenever he comes back and sees them gone :( He has names for them and everything. His favorite slimes are the water slimes 🩷 Loves taking care of them in their little ponds

☆ Taking care of the chickens and water slimes with you? Favorite thing for him to do. He'll joke around and throw water at you, leading the water slimes to shoot water back at him (he never learns his lesson)

Soap

☆ Has so much fun chasing down chickens and saving them. Has even more fun chasing down slimes. He likes the huge ones and the ones that cause more ruckus and are harder to catch because of the huge sense of pride it gives him

☆ Favorite slimes are the lava slime and Gold slime, mainly because of how the lava slime heats him up in winter and how hard it is to catch the gold slime. Has names for them and treats them like his kids

☆ He likes going on walks with you and doing work while you two hold hands and talk or resting somewhere and eating while you recharge your energy

[starryylies]

Simon with an emo gf :0 (or just any type of alt!!!)

SIMON WITH AN EMO GF

I’m so so so so so so so so so so so so so so sorry for replying so late like soooo sorry, and I love your req. like it’s really unique!! It’s awesome and I can totally imagine him dating an emo girl.

I hope this is to your liking!!! And if you have any suggestions always feel free to drop a message

☠︎︎ Okay so this man, I personally think he didn’t really care much about goth/emo culture before he met you like he just knew about it.

(Tbh he gives me emo vibes, esp w the skinny jeans)

☠︎︎ Looking at your clothes, your choppy cut hair all in all made him a bit reluctant to approach you at first simply because he couldn’t tell if he was in love with your style or if he was in love with you

☠︎︎ He lovesyour style omg, like the way you put your eyeliner from the way you make your hair every morning before you went out

☠︎︎ Definitely had made some very dark jokes about the stereotypes regarding emo.

☠︎︎ Whenever or if you guys go out nobody will dare to give you funny looks lemme tell you that, he will make sure nobody even looks at you funny.

☠︎︎ He’s really protective of you generally but when you guys go out it’s way more.

☠︎︎ He genuinely loves the way you do your eye makeup, enamoured while you do your makeup in the morning.

☠︎︎ He once asked you to do his eyeliner for him once.

☠︎︎ He is not a fan of clubbing or raves but goes with you nonetheless if you’re really into that just so you can be happy, his world lights up when you’re happy so how can we ever deny you.

☠︎︎ Thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.

☠︎︎ If you’re a metalhead you both definitely go to those concerts together and collect vinyls and music from shops.

☠︎︎ If anyone dares to make fun of your fashion or your appearance they’re so dead. Like genuinely they’re 6ft underground.

☠︎︎ Whenever he’s out or deployed and he finds a shop where there’s some cute stuff (like skulls, bracelets, vinyls etc) he will pick it out for you to give when he’s back.

☠︎︎ Wears one of your bracelets before he goes for deployment, carries it as his good luck charm.

☠︎︎ He definitely doesn’t want to dye his hair but how could he say no to you so he let you dye his one strand of hair matching to yours.

☠︎︎ he would get matching skull bracelets for you guys.

☠︎︎ would get you a black ring with a small skull carved at the top of the ring.

☠︎︎ Starts copying your style a bit if you wear chunky bracelets he will try wearing them too when he’s at home.

☠︎︎ def has a I 🩷 emo girls shirt for himself.

☠︎︎ will let you do his nails black, once soap called him out for wearing nail polish and he just replied with, “my girl did this fo’ me i ain’t removing this”

☠︎︎ Is a proud and loving boyfriend all in all.

[bits-and-babs]

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: johnny soap mactavish x medic!reader (stitch)

summary: a night of drinking with 141 pushes you to the brink of your friendship with soap.

warnings: [ 1k words ] pathetic levels of mutual pining, yearning, alcohol and drinking, (f) masturbation, reader fantasising about sex with soap.

notes: i had so much fun writing this <33

Soap leans back dangerously on the stool at the bar as he laughs, a deep rumble that rattles his ribcage. The legs of the seat teeter precariously on the edge of a broken floor tile, threatening to slip into the grout grooves and knock him from his pedestal. He’s like sunshine, glowing with the grin plastered on his face as he guffaws at something Ghost had grumbled across the bar.

Even in your drunken stupor, you manage to place your palm on his lower back, curbing gravity’s inevitable pull by easing him back into an upright position. He chuckles weakly, still struggling over Simon’s ridiculous comment as he blinks back humorous tears.

“Cheers, Bonnie,” he grins, the ocean in his eyes swimming with the whiskey The Captain had been plying you both with all evening. It knocks you seasick, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, weathered by emotional storms. They creased for you, now, his wide grin carving out crevices that would last a lifetime simply because he offered you a smile. “Always lookin’ after us, aren’t ye?”

“Y-Yeah, don’t go expecting me to catch you in the field. My job’s to treat injuries, not prevent them,” you murmur, heart cracking against your chest as it flooded your cheeks with blood, heating the skin beneath his gaze.

“Mhm- it’d mean y’d have less work,” he pointed out with a pert raise of his brows, picking up his glass of whiskey and swirling it around so that the ice tnk’d against it. Johnny doesn’t break eye contact, basking you in the warmth of his gaze that could only be rivalled by the sunshine on the beaches his salt-water eyes reminded you of.

Did other people bathe in that everglow? Did the golden rays of his affection colour the cheeks of other girls, or was that look of adoration reserved only for you? You dread to think of the possibility that you were misreading Johnny’s tender gaze, that what you had hoped were exclusive expressions of enchantment had, in fact, been handed out as frequently as the insults that Soap consistently levelled at the members of task force 141. Or even worse, there was a single ‘lass’ back home, waiting in the cobbled streets of Glasgow to receive his embrace.

Genesis: the split on his forehead that went straight to the bone. No bullets were fired; instead, Soap’s skull connected with Ghost’s knee during a football game with the rest of 141. Inexplicably, he and Simon had been on the same team, yet Johnny still managed to end up hurt. He’d smiled at you, and the sight had wormed its way into your bones, the sound of his accented voice all hushed and husky ringing in your ears. ‘Bet yer not used to fixin’ daftys like me.’

You’d assured him he wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Swallowing thickly, your fingers trail up the ridges of his spine through the thin material of his t-shirt. His back is muscular, leaking the heat of far too many whiskeys for so early in the evening. You’re sure you can feel his vertebrae ripple beneath your touch, his eyes zeroed in on your lips like he was aiming his sniper rifle at a target.

“It’s not work if it’s you,” you whisper, feeling the rest of the bar, the team, wash away in those ocean-blue irises. Soap hums softly, the weight of his hand resting on the top of your thigh beneath the sticky countertop of the bar. He seems to calculate the distance between you; the logistics of the shot.

You can’t breathe.

Defibrillator, chest compressions, mouth to mouth.

“Yer too kind, Stitch,” he murmured softly, giving your thigh a squeeze before withdrawing his touch almost as quickly as he’d offered it. Instead, he wraps his fingers around the glass containing the rest of his amber whiskey, the condensation clinging to the sides of the glass dribbling down the length of his fingers to the knuckles.

Code blue.

☆ ☆ ☆

Breathless, your back arches from the cot’s mattress as you sink your fingers into the dripping head at the apex of your thighs. You can’t help the moan that spills over from your lips as you feel how wet Soap’s single touch had made you, the burn of his palm still simmering in the flesh of your thigh.

You’d barely made it back to the barracks. Stumbling over your own feet, you’d whimpered in frustration when tearing off your clothes, needing to rub your throbbing clit to ease the pulsing need Soap had instilled in you with his fucking smiles.

They’re a nuclear weapon, so bright it hurts your eyes.

Alcohol made it so much worse. Your mind runs away with itself, imagining Soap had tripped into your bed alongside you. He’d be rubbing at your swollen clit with his thumb, sinking his fingers deep inside you while praising you for how well you received him.

‘Steamin’ Jesus, Bonnie,’ he would groan, kissing across your sternum while searching for that mind-numbing spot inside you that had your toes cramping as they curled, ‘so fuckin’ wet for me. Can ye take another? C’mon, that’s it-‘

You wail softly, rocking your hips up to meet the thrust of your fingers as you imagine the sensation of his lips on your neck, the scratch of his stubble against your pulse point.

“‘M gonna cum, Johnny,” you wheeze aloud, urging the ghost touch to keep going. Your fingers sink deeper, the ridges of your fingerprints scraping something cataclysmic when you curl them just right.

A long, anguished whine ricochets off the walls of your dorm as you drench your fingers with your cum, eyes squeezing so tight that you can almost see the ghost of Soap’s silhouette behind your eyelids, praising you for your devastating orgasm. It’s so slow, utterly debilitating as it obliterates every inch of your drunken limbs with a white-hot ecstasy.

Your lungs rattle with the force of your inhales, bleached knuckles gripping the bedsheets in a desperate attempt to brace against the explosive orgasm. Soap’s touch still simmers beneath your thigh muscles, buried into the sinews despite the trembles that wracked them.

Did he feel the same? Had your palm burned into his vertebrae, or did he imagine the touch of a girl from home, whispering her name when he came?

You dread to think. 

join the taglist here:

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art

[morganbritton132]

I love that Eddie is a craft guy! It just makes so much sense. Do you think he's one of those people who is CONSTANTLY doing a new craft and their house is just littered with Eddie's crafts, and he's always making little hand made gifts for Steve, the party and the band? I can totally imagine Steve coming home and the house just being in total disarray and Eddie's just like "I made a bird table and i personalised all your coffee cups :))"

Eddie Munson and the ADHD urge to start a new project before you finished the last one.

Despite Eddie’s big personality and the joy he gets galivanting across cafeteria tables and award show stages, he is very much a homebody. His favorite places growing up was his bedroom, Gareth’s garage, and the drama room where he hosted D&D. Then he went on tour and when the shows were over, he just wanted to be home.

He liked being able to strip away the Eddie Munson persona, sit down, and channel all the ideas in his head into a creative output.

Honestly, making money just made it worse. He can afford shit now.

Steve’s the opposite though.

Steve likes to be out of the house. He was a kid that lived in a big house with parents that never wanted to see or hear him, sometimes year-round sports were the only thing keeping him sane. Once Eddie made it big and was touring, Steve was once again alone in a big empty house and so he found things to do.

He meets up with Robin at least once a week to get dinner and drinks, and sometimes they go dancing or they sing karaoke. Him and Dustin meet up semi-regularly to catch up. He was a part of their neighborhood walking group before Diane annoyed him out of it. He goes bowling with some teachers from work occasionally and takes a pottery class that he sucks at. Him and Max are a part of a trivia team that has only ever succeeded at being the drunkest team in the game.

So, the combination of ‘Steve is 90% of my impulse control and he’s not here right now’ and ‘If I don’t create something, I will die’ means that sometimes Steve comes home to a new windchime or a questionably made bird house.

 Sometimes he comes home to Eddie embroidering one of his jackets by hand even though he bought an embroidery machine that he has never used. Other times, he comes home and Eddie has carved every bar of soap they had into a little fucked-up guy or he found a recorder and wants to play Steve a song.

Or sometimes, Steve returns home from the cooking class he’s taking at their local community center to beads. Beads everywhere.

Beads in the carpet. Beads on the hardwood. Beads in their shoes by the stairs. Beads everywhere.

Steve – who is pretty Type-A about their house being clean and organized because he has a shit memory and needs to be able to find things – very calmly sits aside the ravioli that he made and says, “Eddie, what the fuck?”

“I dropped them.”

Steve makes a gesture like ‘yeah, no shit’ and then just makes a distressed noise, but Eddie waves him off as he dumps a handful of beads into the good punch bowl that they use for parties, “Don’t blame me. Your cat tripped me. I nearly brained myself.”

“She’s only my cat when she’s bad,” Steve sighs, sitting down to help pick the beads up. “Why do you have beads anyways? Since when do we have beads?”

“Do you remember those beaded lizard keychains?” Eddie asks, and then when all he got was silence. “I’m going to make you one…after we pick up two thousand pony beads.”

Steve makes another noise that’s somewhere between ‘you’re causing me actual pain’ and ‘I love you so much it makes me stupid’ and Eddie grins at him. He gestures to the punch bowl and says, “Stevie, think about it. Once we fill this bad boy up, we can separate the beads by color. That’ll be fun, right?”

“…Yeah, I’d actually really like that.”

[laughroditee]

TF141 and their favorite ASMR types (with links!)

I personally love ASMR but am very selective due to misophonia (no mouth sounds please 💀). I thought it would be fun to headcanon what our silly little guys might watch/consume.

🏷️ | Price

Captain Price, Our Father Who Art on the Battlefield, really loves ✨personal attention ASMR✨ where he can feel like he can let loose and have someone else worry about shit for a while.

Helping You Sleep (Tingting ASMR)

Edwardian Era Beard Trim & Shave (Moonlight Cottage ASMR)

At the barber (Whispering Gentleman ASMR)

And also Cat Spa (Bear Soongnyoong) because you know he’s a softie when it comes to animals

🧢 | Gaz

Gaz is Our Most Beautifulest Boy™️ and can appreciate the finer things in life as well as the not-so-finer things… things that would make me wither and die

Cute Cooking ASMR (Cooking Tree)

Makeup ASMR (Starling Makeup)

Typing ASMR (ricecloud)

And MOUTH SOUNDS KYLE HOW COULD YOU!? It’s because he went through resistance to interrogation training and passed, I’m telling you, he can do anything. (Nanou ASMR)

💀 | Ghost

Ghost likes to keep his head clear, so the kinds of ASMR he’d engage with would have ✨no talking✨. I’m thinking:

Soap carving (one track mind) (Vito ASMR)

Wood soup (Wood Soup Girl ASMR)

Zen gardens (Made in France ASMR)

Kodo Incense ASMR (Healing Serenity)

🧼 | Soap

Why do I do this to poor Johnny every time? Making it look like he cannot be trusted and has to order off the kids menu lol.

Kittens eating steak ASMR because he’s unhinged (I can’t read the channel name because it’s not in English 😭)

Ear cleaning (ASMR Boyoung)

Intense triggers (ASMR Bakery)

Slime (Ana Aster)

And then as a little bonus that literally no one asked for, I’ll throw in my OC, Jesse:

🤡 | Jester

Maya Winky, full stop.

Ghost falling down the stairs ASMR (byrdhowse on TikTok)

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 4

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, some body horror, and some dubcon (lightly). Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

The story gets more complicated and violent, so be prepared!

I've been watching way too many horror movies again, and I was sick too, so I gathered some firsthand experience for some of the sensations our poor MC has to face. But now I feel much better, can't say the same about her... Well, there's that :D

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

........................................................

The sound of soft laughter fills the walls of the house, painted golden yellow from the fire, and the lingering shadows of your companions loom over the carved wood like nightmarish demons. And with each step, you get closer and closer to the deceptive cheerfulness that unfolds below, which flows like a sick play around the laid table. As if an idyllic moment was snatched from a comedy movie meant for children and families, every minute of which is full of perfectly written laughter and undisturbed joy, but every giggle crawls into your ear canals on the slimy legs of a disgusting maggot, to bury itself in your brain and push you closer to madness with each minute.

You sneak closer to the stairs with careful quietness, unable to take your eyes off the scene unfolding in the middle of the spacious living room, because you're afraid that if you draw attention to yourself sooner than necessary, you won't have a chance to escape. Although the treacherous little voice in your head warns you that all your chances of disappearing from this terrible, artificial world were lost when Simon closed his arms around you.

And you reflexively look for the blond man, and as soon as your strained gaze finds his burly figure sitting at the table, terror envelopes your stomach in an icy grip. Every bit of him is deceptively calm, and he rests next to Johnny in his chair with such careless relaxation as if he always belonged there at the birthday dinner. But you see the waiting danger in his eyes, which makes him look like a wolf killing some time before finally tearing his victim to pieces, who doesn't even know that they willingly laid their neck in his open jaws. And it seems cruel how the two girls engage in a light-hearted conversation with the two men amid wild gesticulations and cozy delight, because you know exactly that each carefree sound that leaves their mouths is a precursor to a painful scream in the dead of the night.

Every member of yours is protesting against going down, and your legs tug you back like leaden weights, as you try to drag your body, heavy with fear, forward. As if with each step, the thread that binds you with weak fingers to the fleeting promise of survival is unraveling a little more. You'll have to go down though. Because if you hide, you risk the wrath of the game. You need information to get a new clue, and if you don't join this miserable charade, you'll lose any chance of finding anything. You have to do it even if every cell of yours screams agonizingly with dread.

The polished wood of the stairs creaks as you slowly descend the steps, and the eyes of the two men fixate on you almost on command, like two hungry vultures before which the delicious meal has finally appeared. And you realize bitterly that it's not so far off  from reality, because you're probably only a few hours away from someone quenching their thirst with your still-warm blood after they've hunted you down like an animal.

NO! Enough! You can't think that! Even though this wretched place wants to make it difficult for you to win, you must not let it get its way, because then you'll wither away in this quicksand of raw flesh and screams, stuck in endless suffering. You must not let it win. You won't let it win.

Your determination eases the trembling that shakes your knees wildly, and as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you straighten your back out, because these two bloodthirsty monsters must not see that they were able to plant the seeds of hopelessness in your mind. Even if this bitter feeling has taken root, you should not allow them to find morbid joy in it. Because that would be equal to your defeat.

"The birthday girl is finally here!" Pam exclaims enthusiastically as she turns back to you to look at you, and for a moment her kindness breaks your heart as you let her spring up and lead you to the empty chair at the head of the table with tender, friendly love. You don't deserve a minute of her attention, even if there's nothing real behind it. A fictional creature, whose empty shell is filled with life by the game, just so that it can take this temporary existence away as painfully as possible. But still, as she pushes you down to the chair with a warm smile and squeezes your shoulder excitedly, your throat tightens painfully with pity. You gave up trying to save them a long time ago, you forgot the compassion you felt for them, yet now your brain, overloaded because of the impossible events, allows you for a moment to feel sympathy for them. "The best place belongs to the celebrated!" She chirps, and when she's certain that you've made yourself comfortable, he strolls back to her seat, with such an unworried spring in her step that you recall quite cruelly how quickly this lightness turns into desperate fear as she runs for her life. And despite this sugary-sweet show, it'll happen soon enough.

And even to you, it's strange how the whole dinner scene begins with such familiar movements, even though Simon has intruded on the well-known story as an uninvited guest. And this might be because he only occasionally interjects a short comment into the smooth flow of events, otherwise not disrupting the dialogue that you have already heard torturously many times. If he does answer, the game bends the threads of its own story so smoothly that, in spite of the new change, you end up in exactly the same place where you have always been. And this fills your soul with such fiery hope that suddenly every cell of yours ignites with the wild desire to act, because if the presence of the masked man doesn't lead the story in a completely new direction, then there is a chance that the clues will still be there where they were before you discovered them... And that makes the doubts clinging to your gut seem to withdraw, and you feel that you can finally breathe for the first time since discovering the book.

"It's so nice of Johnny to put together this dinner, isn't it?" Rebecca chimes in, lifting another bite into her mouth with her fork, carrying her gaze around on the myriad of appetizing dishes displayed on the table with real delight. And you tear yourself out of the continuing web of your thoughts with a startled wince, in which you've been immersed far away, already browsing through the series of clues you've found so far. You run your confused eyes through the group at lightning speed, and when you meet the girl's puzzled expression, you reluctantly turn your attention back to them.

"Yeah... It's very nice of him." You blurt out your scripted, well-rehearsed dialogue, and although your tongue almost goes numb under the weight of the lie, you’re able to force the faint line of an authentic-looking smile on your mouth.

Although everyone seems to calm down, you see sparks of interest in Simon's eyes. And as you carefully look at him and your gaze intertwines with his, you see the unmistakable lines of a smile appearing around his eyes in the warm light. But there is nothing comforting about this gesture, because an almost condescending kindness emanates from his every cell, and this makes him look like no more than a spectator of an unfolding sad comedy. And if he really knows that you're not from here, then all ot this is really nothing more for him than watching a movie up close, the end of which he's perfectly aware of. But you can still surprise him. Because you won't let him think he's in charge. You just have to find a clue…

And you jerk back, almost startled, as Johnny's face swims into your vision, thus hiding the sight of his friend from you, and the change happens so suddenly that you just stare into his cheerful blue eyes, blinking with bewildered surprise.

"It's nothing! I'd dae anythin' for my wee lil' Bunny!" He utters enthusiastically, and although his words don't sound like lies, fear snakes into you along his deep voice. Because this sentence has never appeared anywhere before, and it's so new to your shocked brain that you're unable to register how one of his tanned hands slowly slides onto your fist gripping the fork, wrapping around it like an anaconda on its prey. And even though his touch is light as a feather, you feel as though he's squeezing you in a way that makes all your bones crack, like a couple of dry tree branches. What's this again? Why does the story diverge if it has followed the main storyline so far?

"You're such a lucky girl! I would sell my soul to be treated so well by someone!" Pam sighs longingly, and as she folds her hands in front of her chest with feigned offense, your confusion deepens. Because suddenly this whole horrible interlude takes a turn that is completely unknown to you. Up until now, it's been Pam who has had any sort of romantic streak, because she's the one who gets killed for living out her lustful passion. Thus far, you've never been the center of attention in this way, not even at any level worth mentioning, and the realization that now this is just another complication and death flag cuts into your brain like a knife. And suddenly you feel that the taste of the food turns to ash in your mouth, the dryness of which drags the waves of nausea up your throat.

"Is there something wrong?" Rebecca's worried question cuts through your shock, and as you realize that every pair of eyes is staring at you, you’re filled with the desire to escape. But you don't even dare to move, because you're afraid that every irresponsible action you make will trigger an avalanche that will have harsh consequences.

"I think my stomach is a little upset. Maybe I caught something." You try to explain yourself weakly, and with every nerve you attempt to force authenticity into your features, slowly releasing your hand from Johnny's grip. You have to wait to see what else changes, and to have the slightest chance to search for hints later. Because if you're not careful enough, you lose all hope of even finding a clue.

"Oh, poor lil' Bunny." Johnny grumbles, and although there is some pity in his voice, a hideous undertone lurks behind the sympathetic words that make goosebumps prickle on your skin in an instant. And maybe an outside observer would think that there are indeed wrinkles of kind concern on his face, but you see the joy in his eyes. Like you've just given him something he's been waiting on pins and needles for. "Let me help ye!"

And you soon understand how he wants to help you. Because, as the chair cries out with an ear-splitting scream, when he pulls it uncomfortably close to you, then it's too late for you to escape. The wolf has already found you, and you can do nothing but watch with stunned helplessness as it starts to devour you.

Not a single sound can escape your mouth, as your protest gets stuck under the lump that jumps into your throat, and you freeze in fear as one of Johnny's big hands slides over your back with easy naturalness. And as his warm fingers begin to draw slow, soothing circles on your back, as if he really wants to drive away your growing sickness with his gentle touch, but you go as still as a statue, completely unmoving. You're unable to turn away from the man, whose gaze is fixed on you with such intense attention, as if someone had hypnotized him. But you already know better than that. You see those ice-blue eyes gliding across your face, and you know that he finds his joy in the frightened curve of your eyebrows, the motionless panic of your eyes, and the quivering line of your lips, like a hungry hyena feeding on terror. And as, during his seemingly innocent adventure, one of his fingers almost imperceptibly slips under the clasp of your bra, crumpling the soft material of your t-shirt, that hungry grin appears on his mouth, with which a beast flashes its teeth at its victim. And the scene in the kitchen takes shape in your brain so quickly that you're unable to hold back the frightened whimper that erupts from you.

"There's no need for that... I'd rather rest." You try to oppose meekly, carefully choosing each of your terrified words, and when you pull back from the man's suffocating proximity, his palm spreading over your back prevents you, holding you back as easily as if it wouldn't be more to him then just a minor inconvenience. And you’re probably right, because even though you can see the cords of the sculpted muscles dancing on his arm from the corner of your eye, his whole body still remains in your personal space with unmovable carelessness.

"Dinnae be silly!" Johnny silences your protest, and from the curve of the smile on his lips, the tentacles of anxiety growing inside you cling to every single cell of yours. Because it suddenly becomes painfully clear that you've fallen into a trap and you don't even have a chance to flee. "I'll help ye... ye'll let me, won't ye?" He inquires, but there is something very certain about his question, as if he asked it just for the sake of fun, because he already knows the answer anyway. And why wouldn't he act like that? He slyly lured you into his arms, and now it's time for him to enjoy the fact that you’re exactly where he wanted you all along.

And although your brain is feverishly working on excuses that you can use to escape, like a frightened little rabbit running from wolves, the man gets to work much sooner. His wandering hand on your back crawls up your spine with the deadly slowness of a snake, and as his fingers dance along each small bump, you instinctively get a chill from the condescending tenderness that mixes with his touch. And you feel how the tiny little hairs stand up in the wake of his fingertips, and fear spreads through all your limbs, as if a paralyzing poison had been injected into you. And if resistance had even crossed your mind, then all your stray thoughts disappear immediately, because as soon as he clamps his hand on the back of your neck to lock around it, you freeze as terrified as if you had turned to stone.

You see the cheerful sparks in his eyes as he recognizes how obedient he has made you become, and you helplessly let his free hand, which has been resting on the table until now, come to play on the feeble stage of your body. And although you’re unable to take your eyes off his face, you catch in your periphery as he touches your knee almost teasingly, and you can't suppress the trembling that moves inside of you as his fingers begin to slither toward your thigh. You can feel the heat emanating from him even through the material of your pants, and you swear that the imprint of his palm almost burns into you as he stops to grip the soft flesh.

And like a wild animal about to feast, he flashes all his teeth with the grin that moves to his face, and as he rests his forehead on the crook of your neck, the treacherous warmth in your stomach rises in addition to fear when, following the hoarse laughter that rises from his throat, as his hot breath fans over the sensitive skin.

You turn your eyes to your surroundings in desperation, but all hope is gone when you see the expression on your companions' faces. Because the mouths of both girls are frozen in languid smiles, and they're watching the obscene moment unfolding in front of them as if it were the most natural thing in the world that someone climbs on you in the middle of a birthday dinner. Like they're watching the finale of a romantic movie, not Johnny slowly eating you alive like a starved dog. But it makes you even more upset when you glance at Simon as a result of a thoughtless reflex, because you immediately regret that you dared to look at him at all. The man continues to rest in his chair with undisturbed calm, and as he carelessly throws his hand on the back of the chair and tilts his head to the side, he follows the wet path of Johnny's mouth as his lips travel to the pulsing veins on your neck with such morbid interest, as if it were nothing more to him then some light fun. And you realize with alarm that you can't hope for help, because the game is more than happy to let this whole horrible situation continue, even if it goes against its own rules...

And when you feel the blunt edge of one of Johnny's canines drawing his mark into your skin with almost mocking fondness, that something that has so far locked your body in a paralyzed shackle snap. Because now you know for sure that nothing will happen the same as before, and your only chance to survive is to disappear from here right now. An unknown strength of determination moves into you, and you tear yourself out of his arms so unexpectedly that even he flinches back in surprise for a moment as you spring up from your chair.

"That will be enough! I better rest." You break the stunned silence, and although it's impossible not to hear the fear hidden in your voice, the decisiveness grows much stronger. And despite the fact that you feel that this small rebellion is already disturbing the apparent calm of the game, you don't care. You have to escape, because if you don't get out of their sight, your hours are numbered. And you can no longer allow yourself to die irresponsibly, no matter what lies ahead.

But just as you would take advantage of Johnny's surprise to free yourself from the prison of his thick arms, someone who has been watching this madness as a silent spectator until now finally joins the events. Simon leans forward in his chair with nerve-wracking slowness to look up at you with his elbows on the table, and that's enough for the sinister spasms of panic to close around your stomach in a violent embrace. Because you see the light that dances in those dark eyes... And they tell you that you made a big mistake, and he'll punish you for it with the greatest pleasure. He warned you, didn't he?

"Sit down." The man motions his head towards your chair, and his statement sounds much more like an instruction than a request. You'd be foolish to think he's only making suggestions when you see how menacingly his hoodie stretches over his broad shoulders as he hunches over the festive table. "The party's about to start." He adds, and you don't like the amusement in his tone at all. Like he’s already amused by something, which you have no idea of yet.

"I don't want to." You squeeze it out of yourself, and although you try to put confidence on your face, it doesn't escape the masked man's attention as you force down the stomach acid pushing up into your dry throat with a frightened little swallow. Because you can see his mouth open under the dark textile covering his face, as he follows this small movement, and from the play of the light of the fire, it looks like he's grinning...

But before you can even decipher what kind of storm might be brewing, you're distracted by something completely different. And as you feel Johnny's hot breath penetrating the thin fabric of the t-shirt covering your belly, you turn back to him in fear, but it's too late. You were too irresponsible, and you lost sight of the monster, in whose claws you have been writhing on the fading edge of safety. And now, as his big hands find the round curve of your hips and his fingers playfully grip it, you already know that the fragile chance of your escape is drifting further and further away from you. You're not deceived by the innocence with which the man settles his chin on your stomach, nor by the way those beautiful sky-blue eyes stare up at you, because you feel the certainty with which he hides the escape route with the coverage of his strong body.

"And then what will happen to them?" Johnny asks, and the worry that enters his voice hits you unprepared, and the confusion instinctively takes over your features, as you take in the way the line of his troubled eyebrows meet. And from this tiny little move, his concern seems quite genuine, and it only pushes your mind even deeper into your ever-increasing shock. What the hell is he talking about?

"With whom?" The cautious question breaks out of you, because your brain, which is buzzing with stress, is unable to understand who he could be aiming at. But you don't have to wait long for him to clarify and dispel the doubts from your mind, because as his head finds a comfortable resting place on your belly, as he turns back to the table, smoothing his face against you, you immediately understand who you have forgotten about until now.

"With your friends." He answers easily, removing all the care from his tone, which he has smuggled into it so masterfully so far. There is something stomach-churningly intimate about the way he nuzzles your navel with his nose, and the way he almost burrows into the warmth of your body, which makes every cell of you instinctively scream for help. And as his arms close around you in a slow but deadly sure embrace, even though you don't fully see the horrible expression he's wearing because he's hiding in your clothes, your eyes find his reflection in one of the elegant glasses. And on the delicate surface of the glass, the corrupted, bloodthirsty smile that spreads across his lips is distorted almost like a nightmare.

"What are you talking about?" You hesitate, scared, and your voice comes out of your mouth like a pitiful whisper that it seems quite distant even to your ears. And you're unable to tear your gaze away from the glass, because you see the man's crooked smile widen further and become a twisted snarl on the glass, which suddenly brings back all the memories of when you were on the other side of that grin. With this exact expression, he plunged a knife into your beating heart and watched as the light of life faded from your eyes. And this makes you realize that, even though you waited for a soothing play, the time for bloodshed has long come.

"Dessert is comin' now." Simon joins in, and this simple little sentence sounds deceptively harmless from his mouth. But as he turns to your companions opposite him, who have been sitting in their seats in a happy stupor until now, you realize that you won't be the target now. However, this doesn't calm you down one bit. "Pam." He almost snaps at the girl, in a tone that sounds like he's asking a trained dog to show off the latest trick it's learned. And you're horrified to learn that the analogy couldn't be more accurate, because Pam shoots up with such enthusiastic joy, as if her owner had really dangled a reward in front of her nose.

"Oh, right away!" She gushes cheerfully, and for a split second, you can't understand why she reaches for the huge knife resting next to the cake so suddenly because of the fear sitting on your brain. You just watch, paralyzed, as she places her left hand on the table, and as the warm light glints on the cold metal of the blade, something quite uncomfortable grips your insides. And when the girl turns to you and her gaze sinks into yours, you see nothing but the bottomless emptiness shining in those bright eyes, as if all the life that the game had so graciously instilled in her had disappeared.

But even though she looks like a lifeless puppet, the sound of the knife piercing through bone is very real, as the next moment she cuts off her index finger with one simple and swift movement. The sick crack almost echoes in your ears, as if someone has just started slicing a deliciously fresh carrot, but as blood gushes out of the wound in rich drops and paints the snowy white of the tablecloth crimson, you know that your eyes are not fooled.

"What…. what the hell..." You stutter, and you feel your brain getting short-circuited by the sight. Because Pam just pulls out the knife buried in the wood of the table with unflinching glee, so as if nothing had happened, she raises it again and strikes the next finger with it. Moved by the force of the attack, the severed digit rolls away, plowing a trail of blood in its wake, drawing a grotesque painting among the multitude of bowls resting on the table. This awakes the pulsing nausea in you again, and you clasp your palm over your mouth to try to hold back the rest of your dinner, which starts gnawing up your throat. However, Pam doesn't even seem to perceive the outside world, the wide smile on her face stretches into a grotesque grin, and her teeth are pressed together with such force that you can almost hear them crack.

"Why dinnae ye sit down, hmm?" Johnny's voice breaks through your shock, and you startledly tear your eyes away from the horrible serenity on Pam's face to turn to the man again, because suddenly even this seems like a better idea. But as he glances up at you from under his dark eyelashes, and something quite predatory flashes in his eyes, you know that the dinner slowly soaking in blood would have been a more soothing sight. "If yer gonnae be the dessert, then she can stop..." He offers, and your stomach turns from the sugary kindness that sits in his words.

And when his arms holding you in check slowly let go of their hold, you'd think you finally can catch your breath for a moment, but much sooner the air gets stuck in your lungs, as his fingers grasp your thighs with almost painful force, and you can feel their marks soak into your skin like fresh purple bruises. His face is pressed against your lap, and his tongue sticks out of his mouth to draw a wet path along the small seam running in the middle of your pants, and you can feel the heat emanating from him even through the rough material of your jeans, then you would try to back away in alarm, but you don't get far. His grip locks you in place much more firmly, and the treacherous tingle that awakens in your frozen body pushes you towards dizziness when he finally finds that tiny sensitive bud through the fabric, which makes you tremble and grip his broad shoulders in terror. And a deep, almost animalistic growl erupts from Johnny's throat when he catches this instinctive little movement.

Another tears you out of the paralysis towards which you drift more and more surely, and as Pam, laughing joyfully, sweeps the stump of her ring finger away in the puddle of blood on the tablecloth, you're already glad that Johnny is so willing to let you cling to him. When you catch Simon out of the corner of your eye, you're unable to stop yourself and almost automatically direct your gaze to him. And you would swear that you have never seen a more beautiful man, because the lustful look with which his dark eyes fixate on you, while one hand caresses his stomach lazily, is not entirely of this world. You follow almost in a daze as his fingers dance leisurely along the bulging hardness of his pants, and only another snap brings you back to the present before you allow yourself to be lured into the trap they want to drag you into in such a vile way.

No matter the two men's angelic faces, no matter the sinful power emanating from them, it penetrates your paralyzed consciousness too strongly, as the sea of blood spreading across the table slowly reaches you and begins to drum in heavy drops on the floorboards. Because only monsters are capable of such horror, and it awakens the desire to escape in you enough that your heart rate, which is accelerating in dread, finally pumps out the adrenaline in your body so you can act.

You reach for your glass resting on the table so unexpectedly that you manage to surprise Johnny when you smash it on his head. And you know that it won't do him any serious damage, but the pain lasts just long enough for him to release you in the middle of a tortured hiss, and you can take advantage of this to get out of his arms so nimbly that by the time he comes to his senses, you're a safe distance away. No matter how much a faint sense of guilt awakens in you, when you turn your back on everything and sprint towards the stairs, for leaving your companions at the mercy of the beasts, the survival instinct raging inside you drives this weakness to the hidden corner of your skull much sooner. Because these bastards were trying to use this, and they wanted to take advantage of this to catch you...

Even through the pounding of your heart in your ears, you can hear the laughter that comes from Johnny when you reach the top floor, and you know exactly what that voice promises you. There's nothing in it but cruel amusement, and that just helps enough to speed up your steps towards your room. And as soon as the small abode finally envelopes you, you slam the door behind you with such force that its loud bang almost shakes the house. But for once, you don't care if you make noise, because the chase has already started, and there's no point in being subtle.

You lock the door with trembling hands, but you know that you won't be able to keep them out for long, because you've experienced Johnny's power enough times. That's why you rush to the closet resting next to the wall with lightning speed, and you push against it clenching your teeth, because it might delay them for a minute longer. The furniture sways with a creak, as it slowly obeys the violent urging, and as you shove it with your shoulder again and again with angry desperation, it finally gives in and falls in front of the door with an loud crash, spilling all its contents to the floor. And although a sharp ache shoots through your arm as you step back to examine your makeshift barricade, all pain fades when you hear heavy footsteps stomping up the stairs in the sudden silence. They're coming after you.

And you immediately search for a new way out, and as soon as your gaze settles on the open window, you already know what you have to do. Because even though you know that there are enough dangers out there, the uncertain darkness seems friendlier than waiting here to see what kind of retribution you'll receive for interrupting the two men's fun.

And when the doorknob turns for the first time, you're already outside on the narrow roof, and you only take one last look at the door, which is slowly beginning to shake wildly, before you disappear in the cold night.

And only one thought screams in your head: You have to survive the night.

[void-wolfie]

Carving Commotion

summary: You go over to Jenna's for some halloween fun

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

tw: none really? light mention of knives for pumpkin carving but thats it (if i'm missing something let me know so i can fix/add)

words: 1.09k

a/n: Happy Halloween guys! i did this at the last minute if i'm honest. only did light editing and proofing so there might be some mistakes lol.

You pushed the doorbell in with your elbow, hearing the familiar sound echoing from within the house. You barely even had to wait thirty seconds before the door shot open, your girlfriend standing on the other side with a blinding smile.

You noticed her eyes excitedly jump down to the two pumpkins in your arms, her smile growing wider if that was even possible.

"What're you staring at, Ortega? My eyes are up here," You joked, smirking at your girlfriend's exasperated expression.

"You're late," if she rolled her eyes any harder, they would've rolled right out of her head, "just, get in here already."

Despite the jokes, both of you truly did love Halloween, it was one of the best times of the year. The two of you planned to spend the whole night together carving pumpkins and watching scary movies.

As you walked through the house you noticed all the decorations set up. Fake cobwebs adorned with plastic spiders hung in the hallway, fake bats hung from the living room fan, caution tape littered doorways, and The Monster Mash played quietly in the background. She really does go all out for Halloween, you thought to yourself.

Jenna helped you put the pumpkins down on the kitchen counter. She grabbed out the soap and a scrubby brush and told you to clean off the pumpkins in the sink, which you happily obliged.

You got lost in thought while cleaning off the pumpkins. You were excited, you couldn't stop thinking about what to carve. Should it be something elaborate and scary? Or maybe something simple and cute? Maybe a mix of both? It was your first Halloween with Jenna after all, and you didn't want to scare her off with your excitement.

By the time both pumpkins were done and washed, you turned back around to find the kitchen table covered in trash bags and Jenna setting the table with a handful of carving knives.

"Carving pumpkins isn't just some elaborate excuse to murder me, right?" You joked. Once again you saw her eyes roll, but the smile on her face told you she was far from annoyed.

"I could never kill you, you're too cute for that," She looked over at you and winked. The gesture alone made your knees wobbly and your stomach twist into knots.

Jenna refused to show you what she was carving into her pumpkin. You could see her eagerly getting into her drawing, her eyebrows furrowing in the cutest way while her Sharpie moved wildly in front of her. It’s a surprise, she insisted.

You decided that if Jenna could get so excited and into her pumpkin carving, so could you. You drew up the best pumpkin face you could think of, sharp gnarly teeth, and slanted eyes. The design wasn’t as good as you normally drew, but you chalked it up to the cute brunette across the table distracting you.

Once you had decided the design was good enough, you picked out a knife and started cutting away. You started with some of the bigger details, watching as the big knife cut through the pumpkin like butter.

It felt like forever, carving out little bits at a time, and you were covered in pumpkin guts up to your elbows. But finally, you were finished!

“Done!” You shouted, setting the knife down and jumping up from your seat. You looked over at Jenna to see her giggling at you, but you didn’t mind, you liked the sound of her laugh.

“Can I see yours now?” You asked, excited to finally see what the surprise was.

“Sure, love,” She smiled, getting up from her chair to turn her pumpkin around so you could see it, “I finished a few minutes ago anyway.”

She spun the pumpkin around to show a more traditional-looking jack o’ lantern. It had big triangle eyes and a toothy grin. Even though it wasn’t scary it still seemed much better than yours. Somehow hers looked perfect, and yours looked terrible.

“Wow…” you hadn’t even realized you said it till Jenna's face lit up, her smile growing brighter than the full moon on a cloudless night. You’d say it a million more times too if it got her to smile like that again.

“Come on baby, let me see yours,”

You spun your pumpkin around, albeit a bit reluctantly. Hers was so much better than yours, she was going to laugh at you for sure. Yours was a bit more on the scary side, pointy teeth with sharp fangs and hooded eyes, though it wasn’t very good.

You waited for the laughing, but it never came. Instead, she looked impressed… like really impressed. “Baby, that’s amazing, I love it,”

You were shocked. She had to be lying, right?

“Really?”

“Yeah baby, it's perfect.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to hide the smile that crept up on your, “I mean, it’s alright, but it’s nowhere near as good as yours.”

She could tell you were joking around, but she decided to play along. She gasped, feigning shock, “What? Yours is like twice as good as mine,”

“Oh, well now I know you’re lying to me,” You joked, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What? I would never!”

“Liar!” You all but shouted it, faking an upset look. You crossed your arms and looked over your shoulder pretending to pout.

It was silent for a second. Then something slammed into your chest, smacking back down on the table.

You looked at your chest, then the table… She had thrown a handful of pumpkin guts at you.

“Why you little-” You grabbed the lump she had thrown at you and tossed it back with a smirk. She ducked at the last second and the pile landed with a wet splat against the wall.

You saw her laugh, then she started reaching for the bowl of guts in the middle of the table.

“Oh no you don’t,” You reached as fast as you could, both you and Jenna grabbed the bowl at the same time.

Fifteen minutes later, you were both covered head to toe in pumpkin guts. It covered the walls, the floor, and the table. Some made it as far as the living room, but most of it clung to you and Jenna. It was agreed that you’d both have to shower and clean up before any movies could be watched. But despite the mess, and the feeling of pumpkin strings down the back of your shirt, you already knew this was your favorite Halloween yet.

[temeyes]

141 babes and friends, I have a question!! What instrument would you play and why? I’m a drummer, and I love everything about percussion!! It’s so fun, especially to make music more dramatic:3

oh my god okay okay!! (bestie i hope ya forgive me, my knowledge for musical instruments are a little rusty HSAHSHASHSH)

starting with the old man again, Price would be, again, a basic bitch and would prominently play a guitar. but i think he'd be good with any kind of string instrument??? maybe a cello or a double bass??? but i think he'd be a casual aerophone enthusiast, like he'd enjoy playing a flute- a pan flute to be exact. i can imagine him carving one himself too.

sweetheart Gaz would make a great pianist! i'd like to headcanon that he has a taste for mellow but dramatic music. Gaz would definitely love the flexibility that comes with playing a piano. he also feels like the guy who would record videos of himself making piano/keyboard covers of his favorite songs, especially when he was younger. (he also gives the vibes that his parents forced him to get formal lessons when he was a kid LOL.)

Soap would be like you, bestie! a drummer! he's definitely a loud music enjoyer. also i can envision younger him just going all out on hitting his first drum kit that he managed to convince his mom to get him for his birthday. though i think he'd enjoy playing guitar too, both acoustic and electric.

jesus, Ghost is always so hard to write for LOL. he technically knows how to play a guitar??? lowkey i think he's also a basic bitch like Price. but me thinks he'd have an unexpected preference for a ukelele or a violin. i think he'd avoid loud music- not because he can't take it, he just doesn't like it LOL (basing this on the 2009!Ghost comics btw) and like Gaz, Ghost i think is a chill music enjoyer lol!!!!

bonus Laswell again, me thinks mother would be play the saxophone and would blast it directly into Price's ear like that one meme AHSAHHSAHS. also, she'd love Chappell Roan

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

I totally love ur interpretation of alphas smelling kinda nasty it's not my thing but it's very cool and fun!!! (Pls share where you disagree with me I love hearing other opinions)

For some reason to me, omega! Price is fresh baked bread. Like it just seems correct to me idk why

Beta! Price is herbal. Maybe w some very slight powdery notes. But mostly like tea and old books. The smell is on the warmer side even tho I tend to see beta scents as more... cold? If that makes any sense

Alpha! Price is either a sharp, pine scent. Like a Christmas tree farm. OOOOOR this really yummy perfume I have called Jazz Club by replica. It's such a good scent and I feel like either price or ghost fit the vibe of it.

-🔪

Interesting!!! Also Pine Price? Yes yes??!??! 🫵🫵🫵

(I will be highjacking this to post my own hcs!)

(UPDATED) The 141's Scents in an A/B/O AU: Depending on Presentation

Follow-up on these two posts:

As a reminder, these two posts follow a theory of mine that:

Alphas smell so strong and overpowering, bordering on just smelling Bad™️;

Betas smell natural and comforting (average, no major complaints);

Omegas smell sickly sweet and so overwhelming it could make someone ill.

Johnny

Omega Johnny smells like the syrup that surrounds and preserves canned fruit. Canned peaches especially.

Beta Johnny smells like the sea. Salt water, seaweed… that kind of thing.

Alpha Johnny smells like shoe shiner, or another product like that. Maybe wet paint or varnish?

Kyle

Omega Kyle smells like something warm and cosy and gooey that melts in your mouth. My brain is saying honey or honeycomb, caramel or toffee maybe?.

Beta Kyle smells like freshly cut grass, and ivy. Especially when the freshly cut grass is damp too.

Alpha Kyle smells like nearly vinegary and acidic. The best way I can say it is... strong wine that has just started fermenting.

Simon

Omega Simon smells like talc/baby powder. Makes you wanna bury your face in him and sniff like you do to a newborn baby.

Beta Simon smells like old books with yellowed pages. Not necessarily musty or bad.

Alpha Simon smells of black pepper.

ALTERNATIVELY:

Omega Ghost wears scent blockers. You'd never know what he smells like because he doesn't let you. (It's vanilla sugar)

Beta Ghost smells of freshly carved wood furniture, unfinished and unvarnished, still full of splinters and rough edges.

Alpha Ghost smells strongly of burning. Like a campfire, a forest fire, maybe gasoline or sulphur.

John

Omega John smells like lemon merengue. Sickly sweet and tangy at once, with a softness that melts in your mouth.

Beta John smells like a forest, maybe a rain forest, but I could also see him smell of pine and very obviously so. But the kind of pine that people sometimes mistake for mint?

Alpha John smells like rusted iron and dirt... Which a lot of people confuse with fresh blood. Especially when he's angry and his scent mutates.

[karlachismylife]

OK 🆗 this isn't a ask I just wanted to say

We all love you and we are amazed and proud of you every day for doing what you do I love your work and believe you are as a person too and I know I probably won't ever meet you in irl but I want you to know that we are here for you as much as you are here for us <3 Love you pumpkin🎃 stay bright! Were her if you fall.

That's such a sweet thing to receive, love, thank you! I'm holding this message right to my heart and feel it calming down. I'm really not proud of myself in general, but as long as I can make people smile and want them to tell other people kind words, I think that's my mission successful.

Since you gave me this pretty pumpkin and we're approaching Halloween, here are some headcanons about task force 141 carving pumpkins.

CW: gn!reader, mild injury mentioned in Gaz's part.

Used the cutest dividers by @saradika-graphics

Soap is the Halloween kid. This might be his favourite holiday of the year (maybe second after Christmas), and the older he got, the more elaborate his celebration became. So you shouldn't have been surprised when one day he grabbed you and dragged along to a proper farmer's market. You just followed him, as he circled around stalls filled with rich harvest, wagging his metaphorical tail, and loaded a little trolley with pumpkins - you surely weren't naive enough to expect him to just choose one, but when he struggled to balance five on top of each other, you had to pat him on his shoulder and caefully suggest that maybe five was more than enough.

You can't really tell how he managed to convince you to help him carry two more, while all thee gaps too small for pumpkins in the trolley got filled with turnips.

At home, you took one look at his sparkling blue eyes, bright asa deep loch on a cool autumn morning, and started covering the whole kitchen in newspapers and oilcloths. And judjing by the whole arsenal of tools Soap whipped out, you made the right call - you only solidified in your decision to cover the floor and windowsills when he grabbed a powerdrill. "Tae scoop all the shite from th' inside," he explained, checking the circular blade and whatever that constructional whisk was.

"Johny, love, are you sure we can't empty them the normal way-"

"Aye we can, tha's nae fun tho, right, bonnie? C'mere, Ah'll show ye."

Yeah, you certainly didn't overprepare with the covers. Everything got covered in pumpkin guts, Johnny's palms were two shades oranger and you had to tug him down to get a few strings stuck in his mohawk,

"Mm, sweet. We can make soup from the scraps," you licked the juice from your thumb, smiling a little to broadly to pretend that going ham on pumpkins with powertools wasn't fun. Johnny, wiping sweat off his forehead and panting after he took on the biggest one - a real monster - solo, grinned like an idiot in return and kissed the sweet taste off your lips.

"Aye. Or cookies. Ah'll clean up, bonnie, and ye collect the seeds, aye? Gonnae fry them too."

After you cleaned the kitchen together from the main carniage, Soap pulled a chair out for you and finally reached for some more traditional tools for the job - although you had to cower a few times when he drilled starter holes to get some work space for the blade.

Johnny was extremely protective over his designs, hiding his work from you and turning his pumpkins away, only showing you the end results with the proudest chest puff ever. They were quite detailed and drastically different from one another, but all scowly, sharp pumpkin fangs and triangle eyes - very, very spooky. When you showed him yours, with round silly eyes, he looked at it for a few moments, tilting his head to one shoulder and then the other, and finally gave his verdict.

"Very cute. Wanntae drill 'im a mouth?"

You spent the whole evening carving all the pumpkins - and the turnips had to wait for a whole another weekend before you managed to go through the giant veggie pile together. There were enough cut scraps for soup and cookies both. Your drill had an orange hue that couldn't be washed off easily.

But the look on Johnny's face, when you lit up all the candles inside them and fixed some fake cobweb he pulled out along all the other decorations, was so worth it all.

As soon as you told Gaz that you wanted to carve pumpkins together, he planted a kiss on your knuckles and grabbed his cap off the shelf to go to the store. Sure, you would've loved to choose them together, but you trusted he would bring back some nice ones - which is why you were surprised to see him with two completely different pumpkins, a small pale one and a much bigger, bright orange.

"Don't look at them like that, angel, I have an idea," you must've looked really upset with the unfair pumpkin difference, because Kyle laughed softly and pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead and temples. "How about we make a pumpkinburster? You know, the little one clawing its way out from the big one, like in Alien? Pretty creepy, innit?"

That was damn clever, you couldn't lie. Together, you sat down with your respective pumpkins next to you, and sketched for a bit, coming to an agreement over one of the designs - Kyle promised he'll make sure the combined construction would hold together, and you chose the vibe and the way your little pumpkinburster would creep out of the deseased bigger gourd.

Kyle made sure to stock up on snacks and drinks, and put yet another movie from your horror marathon - every day since October 1st, several rounds on days off - on, preparing for your carving session. He took the big boy on himself, leaving you to work on the little guy with all the time for details you could ask for. You sat there, the tip of your tongue stuck between your teeth, going with a tiny scalpeel blade on the little scary teeth of your pumpkinburster, when suddenly the knife slipped on the juice slick covering the place you were diging into, and with a surprised gasp you cut the pad of your thumb.

"Ouch, love, wait, let me see, shush, stay still-" Kyle dropped his knife faster than you even fully realized what happened. Carefully, he grabbed your hand, wiping off pumpkin waste and quickly gathering blood, and inspected the cut with a concentrated look on his face. "Hm. I'm no medic, but I suppose your survival rates are quite high."

Earning a chuckle, he kissed your hurting thumb and then you, before getting up to fetch some better, sterile wipes and a bandaid - after some rummaging, he returned and presented you Halloween-themed bandaids.

"Saw them at the store the other day, couldn't resist, lovie. Wanna have a pumpkin one to remember what battle gave you that scar?" - "No, thank you, I'll take the one with skeletons."

Needless to say, Kyle hovered over you for the rest of the evening, making sure to watch you with all the sharp blades. Somehow, he managed to finish his "chestbursted" pumpkin too, and under your supervision he carefully combined the two, creating your gore galore.

"Do you think we can put a candle in there too?" You asked, leaning your head on his shoulder to admire your work. Chuckling in response, Gaz kissed the crown of your head and sighed dreamily.

"Of course, angel. Whatever you want."

Price took your suggestion to decorate your shared home with a carved pumpkin very seriously. You saw him going through the next few days, stopping at random times and staring into the void - and each time he responded to your concerned questions that he just got another idea for a nice pumpkin design.

Once he had enough of brainsstroming, he took you to go pumpkin shopping; grumbling all the way about how there aren't any "proper" pumpkins left, he, however, trusted your choice completely, agreeing with each and every one you pointed one to him. "Yes, love, that one would be perfect. Oh, you're right, this is even better, look at 'er, so bright... ya wanted another shape? Sure, darling, whatever ya say."

When you brought your prize home, though, everything completely changed: without as much as allowing you to cut the gourd open and take the insides out, John stole it and dragged to his woodwoking table, muttering something under his nose. You were baffled: never would you take him for a greedy pumpkin hoarder, but the truth was right there, all the creative control concentrated in his capable hands.

You waited for hours for him to come out so that you could give him a piece of your mind for cutting you off from the fun, but eventually all the outrage subsided, leaving you to worry about John - he didn't even show his nose when you called for lunch, and all you heard from his workshop area was constant tool buzzing and muffled curses.

Finally, you decided no pumpkin was worth starving himself, so you took a plate with his lunch and carefully entered the working area, immediately inhaling rich pumpkin smell.

"Love, I brought you something to eat... maybe take a little break?" Not wanting to startle him while he was working with a woodcarver, you stopped a few feet shy from his table and reached your neck to sneak a peek at his work.

The rough shape of the face his pumpkin had was terrifying. The ugliest mug you could imagine, something between a scowling smile and... and a Monster INC monster. Even half-done, it looked incredibly detailed, and judging by the amount of tools covered in orangy waste laid out, John used almost everything from his arsenal to carve it.

"Sorry, love, you said something?" Finally noticing you, he put the tool down and turned to you, blinking in confusion when you burst into laughter - how could you not, though, with his beard having te perfect orange shade, thoroughly moisturized with pumpkin juice too.

"I see you've had your lunch break already, but maybe eat something a bit more filling? The pumpkin's not gonna run away. Although it looks capable of anything. Did you have to make it that creepy?"

You leaned down to kiss John, his cheeks clearly blushing from your praise of his ablities to create the ugliest pumpkin critter possible - or from realization how he must look, since you took a napkin and tried wiping his beard clean.

"'Course, darling. How else are we going to scare all the kids away from eating our sweets?"

You were cozying up with Ghost with The Nightmare Before Christmas on - part of your attempts to convince him to wear a Jack Skellington costume - when you hummed at some of the movie background beauty and muttered: "Gotta make sure to go shopping before they buy all the nice pumpkins... wanna come with me? Choose yourself which one you want to do?"

The silence that followed was deafening enough for you to shake the mild sleepiness off and toss in Simon's lap, turning over like a sausage on a stick, tangling in the oversized hoodie (also Simon's, obviously) until you finally managed to push the hood that was obstricting your view off your face and stare at the man himself. Did you even ask out loud or did you even think the question?

"Which one I want to what?" Finally asked Simon, looking at you a little too seriously - his blond eyebrows furrowed as if you asked him a rather complicated mathematical equation, not if he wants to choose his own Halloween entertainment.

"Which one you want to carve? Like, make a Jack-o'-lantern? I thought we could just have each our own pumpkin, make them matching or something. You don't want to?" It was your turn to look confused, but you let your head fall back into his lap and looked at him with a smile. "Don't worry, I won't force you. I can just do a little one for myself."

"No." Simon finally managed a word out and found your thigh to squeeze - for moral support. He looked like he was processing the whole concept of sitting down as a family and carving Halloween decorations together, and you scanned his face, trying to guess what exactly he was thinking. "Let's do each one. But you choose 'em, lovie, I don't know shit 'bout 'em pumpkins."

You wondered if that would be his first time doing this at all or just in a really long time - so you picked up a nice, beginner-friendly, almost cartoon-perfect pumpkin for him and a slighly more lumpy for yourself. "It's got character!" defended you it when Simon looked at your yellowish monster and said it looked "more interbred than the royal family tree".

All that smugness vanished, though, once you sat him down at the kitchen table with a Halloween playlist in the background and dove head first into carving, your enthusiasm making up for the lack of technique.

Simon barely moved, constantly peeking at you and your stabbed interbred gourd. He just managed to start cutting out the circle cap in its head by the time you had already been scraping the inner walls with a spoon - you've never seen him less confident with a knife. Usually it was you who had to be extra attentive with all kinds of blades, while Simon cut anything and everything with a few efficient swipes.

Right now he looked no more capable than a toddler with a plastic knife.

"Need some help, baby?" You asked carefully, and after thirty seconds of inner turmoil, Simon responded with a defeated grunt. Chuckling, you got up, kissed the corner of his scarred lips and snuck behind him, intending to guide his hands Ghost style. Pottery might be more suited, but it still felt heartwarming to show him how to finish that top hole, leaving more or less curvy lines instead of the sharp corners he made with his cuts. "Ooh, look how bright the pulp is! Must be yummy."

You cut yourself a little piece of that bright orange sweetness - as a tax for helping him - and laughed, kissing Simon right after to share it. Then you gave him a sharpie and advised to draw his design on first. It might've been the sightly dimmed lighting in the kitchen, where you already put a few candles for the vibes, or the light reflecting off your bright pumpkins, but his ears definitely seemed quite glowy.

"Hey, no peeking! You have to make up your own face!" You covered your pumpkin from him, but Simon leaned to grumble into your ear, kissing and nibbling on it ticklishly, and seized the moment to grab your creation and turn it around.

There was a pause.

"The fock is tha', lovie." Looking at his dumbfounded face, you snorted and reached to peck him on his nose bump. You knew he'd looove seeing his skull mask recreated in a pumpkin with your less than finesse artistic additions.

"That's my Ghostunkin. You like him? You should, he's your twin!"

"Oi, c'mere ya little shit!"