#and i was just like ':) nope. i am in and out of here.'

[tiredsmashbros]

SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

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thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You go through a whirlwind of emotions when drunk.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: drunk!reader, Reader annoying Sirius

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x drunk!Reader

You were slumped between James and Sirius, giggling uncontrollably, your legs swinging off the armrest of the couch as you hiccuped. The room was warm, and everything felt so funny. Especially Sirius's hair.

"You know what, Pads?" you slurred, poking Sirius in the cheek. "You look like a... a giant poodle. But a mean one. Like, the poodles at the dog shows that bite people."

Sirius's jaw dropped. “A poodle? You—no, absolutely not. I am—what did you say I was, James?”

James was trying not to laugh. "Uh, majestic, I think."

"Majestic!" Sirius pointed at you dramatically, like that would prove his point.

You snorted so hard you almost fell off the couch, but James caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and steadying you. "Sure, sure, 'Padfoot the Majestic Poodle.'"

"It's mostly because of your hair—" you giggled, reaching out to pat the top of his head, missing entirely and booping his nose instead. "It's so fluffy, like a big, angry puppy!"

Sirius frowned, swatting your hand away dramatically. "I am not a dog, and my hair is majestic, thank you very much."

"Fluffy," you repeated, poking him in the cheek now. "Sirius, fluffy like a… like a poodle!"

James tried to hold back a laugh as Sirius looked properly offended, folding his arms with a huff. "Are you serious?"

You snorted at his pun. "No, you’re Sirius!"

Remus groaned from beside Peter. "Oh no. Not this again."

Peter shook his head, barely holding back his own giggles. "Here we go…"

“Are you lot serious right now?” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. “A poodle. Really.”

“Sirius is serious,” you added, and then cracked up at your own joke. “Sirius is Sirius—wait, Remus, did you hear that? It’s his name.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we got it.”

“But I’m not a poodle,” Sirius muttered, still offended, while you continued to giggle.

James still eyed the bottle of firewhiskey in your hand like he wanted to take it away. Not that you noticed. Nope. You were too busy trying to poke Sirius in the cheek.

“You’ve got—got something there,” you slurred, leaning in far too close to Sirius’s face.

“What? Where?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned as he wiped at his cheek. “Did I get dirt on me?”

“Yeah, it’s called your face,” you giggled, falling back onto James and laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever said.

Sirius gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “How dare you! James, do you hear this? Your girlfriend is cruel.”

You waved him off, turning your attention back to James, who was trying not to smile. “He’s just mad ‘cause he’s not as pretty as you,” you said, squinting up at James like you were stating the most obvious fact in the world. You reached out and patted his face, a little too hard. “So. Pretty.”

James chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could slap him again. “Alright, love, I think you’ve had enough for one night.”

“Noooooo,” you whined, stretching out the word. “M’fine, Jamie. Look! I can sit up perfectly straight.” You immediately leaned to the side, almost toppling over onto Peter, who yelped and quickly scooted out of the way.

“Maybe… maybe a little too much,” Remus said from beside Peter, watching with raised eyebrows.

“Remus!” you called, throwing your arms out toward him. “You’re so boring, you know that?”

“Hey, I like boring,” Peter mumbled from his chair, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, Wormtail likes boring!” you repeated, pointing to Peter like he was your greatest proof.

You sat up suddenly, looking around the room, eyes wide and dramatic. “Wait. Wait. You guys can’t ever leave me, okay? Promise.”

The Marauders exchanged confused looks. “Uh—okay?” Peter said hesitantly.

“I’m serious—not like Sirius serious—" you hiccuped, "But you guys can’t leave. We have to stay friends forever or I’ll—I’ll hex all of you!” You threw your hands up, trying to look menacing, but it came off more like a flailing octopus.

James quickly wrapped his arms around you as you dramatically collapsed into his chest. “Love, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sirius muttered, though he was still looking somewhat offended by your earlier insult. “I don’t think I can handle another ‘your face is the problem’ comment.”

But you weren’t having it. You pointed a shaky finger at them, wobbling slightly. “You better not, Sirius Black! Or I’ll—” You narrowed your eyes dramatically, trying to look intimidating. “I’ll hex you into next week! I know spells, you know!”

James bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What spells?”

“Spells!” you repeated, waving your hands in the air as if that was a valid explanation. “Dangerous ones!”

Peter snorted. “I’m terrified.”

Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Merlin, you’re scary when you’re drunk.”

“Good,” you said, immediately softening. “Because I love you guys, even though Sirius is a poodle, and Remus won’t laugh at my jokes, and Peter—well, Pete, you’re just so cute, aren’t you?”

“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached out, pulling all of them into a big, awkward group hug. “I just love you guys, okay? Don’t leave me… ever.”

James chuckled, his hand warm on your back. "Alright, let's get you to bed, yeah?"

“I don’t wanna go to bed,” you pouted, leaning into James like a rag doll. “I wanna stay here and annoy Sirius more.”

“I’m not listening to this nonsense,” Sirius huffed, throwing his hands up.

“Oh, but Sirius—don’t you wanna cuddle like a big, fluffy dog?” you teased, blinking innocently.

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

James stood up, pulling you gently with him. “C’mon, love, you’re barely standing.”

“Wait, no, no, no—you're all amazing, even you, Remus, boring and all.” You paused, eyes widening as if you had just realized something horrible. “Wait—don’t ever leave me, guys.”

Your lower lip started to wobble.

“Don’t leave me! You can’t! What if you just disappeared? Poof! Gone! And I’m all alone. I’ll die. I’ll actually die.”

James squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you’re driving everyone mad, love.”

You looked up at him, beaming. “But not you, right, Jamie?” you gushed, running your fingers through his messy hair, making it even worse. “You’re perfect, James Potter. Like… a Quidditch god! And your glasses are so… shiny.”

Sirius fake gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shush, poodle!” you shot back at him, your words blending together into a cute mess of slurs. “You’re just jealous ‘cause James is my shiny glasses boy.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. Peter was full-on laughing now, while James was just gazing at you, completely smitten.

You huffed but allowed him to help you stand. “You’re the best, James,” you said, leaning heavily on him as he started to guide you toward the stairs.

“You’re pretty great yourself,” James chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist so you wouldn’t stumble.

Just before you reached the dormitory, you stopped, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “No, really, Jamie. You’re the best. Don’t ever change.”

James grinned down at you, his heart melting a little. “I won’t, love. Now let’s get you to bed before you start threatening to hex me too.”

You smiled sleepily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I’d never hex you. You’re too pretty.”

And with that, you were out, leaving James with a fond smile and the rest of the Marauders shaking their heads behind him.

Downstairs, Sirius was still sulking. “A poodle… unbelievable.”

i love drunk!reader so much!!

[verstappentime]

divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.

It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 

It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.

His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.

It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 

He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 

Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.

“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 

“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 

“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 

“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”

“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.

“I can– I’ll do it.” 

“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 

“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 

“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 

“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 

“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 

Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 

“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 

“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 

“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 

“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 

There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 

“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.

[samfkiszka]

Movies

★・・・・・・★

This is how it feels to be in love, This is life from above

or a short boyfriend josh x fem reader

Word Count: 3,295

WARNINGS: SMUT!! 18+ ONLY! Oral (male receiving), dry humping, unprotected PIV sex (wrap it before you tap it i guess), sub!josh/switch!josh, handcuffs, a little bit of denial?, if i’m missing anything let me know!

a/n: okay it’s short and probably mediocre, but i’ve been so extremely busy lately. paper bag ch 4 is OTW! i am nearly done, i promise.

★・・・・・・★

You press your body flush against him, relishing the soft whimpers muffled by your clashing lips. His hands roam against the expanse of your back, gripping the soft flesh needily. Your head is spinning, intoxicated by nothing but Josh. Every facet of him was invading your senses; the feel of his hands, the smell of his cologne, the sweet noises you were managing to elicit from your position above him. He ground his hips up, pushing his hard-on against you in a desperate attempt to feel any sort of friction. You were seconds away from giving in, unbuttoning his jeans and touching him only the way you were allowed to; the way that would have had him whining beautifully underneath you.

Too bad you didn’t have enough time.

You were cut off by the shrill sound of a phone ringing beside you, the ringtone you had specifically set for Jake– Josh’s twin brother. Reluctantly pulling away from Josh, who was quick to try and tug you back to him, you answered the phone with an exasperated huff.

“Hello?” You breathe, trying your best to sound calm and collected.

“Where the fuck are you guys? We’ve been banging on the door for ten minutes,” Jake chuckled, not sounding the least bit irritated at your lack of awareness and hospitality.

“Fuck,” you mumble, turning to Josh. Eyes blown, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, hair in disarray– he was truly a sight to behold. “Be there in a second.” You hang up before Jake can respond, tossing the phone on the bed so hard it tumbles to the ground with a thunk.

“They’re here.”

“Who?” Josh pants, still greedily exploring your body.

“Your brothers,” you grumbled, pushing off of Josh.

“Huh?” He hums, not entirely focused on the words coming out of your mouth.

“Movie night,” you explain, reminding him of the event he scheduled earlier in the day. You glance in the mirror for a moment, fixing your hair to the best of your ability. You turn to face Josh, drinking in his disheveled appearance, “Better fix yourself up, sweet boy,” you warn, all too aware of how relentlessly his brother’s would tease him if they saw him like this.

“Tell them to go away,” Josh complains, propping himself up on his elbows, “C’mon, I- I’ve been so good, I just wanna touch you.”

“Sorry, angel, you're the one who invited them.” You ignore him, racing to the front of your apartment to let your somewhat unwelcome guests in. bc

Sam is still banging against the door when you tear it open, grinning from ear to ear when he spots you.

“Fucking finally,” he laughs, “What took you so long?”

“Um, got caught up doing something,” you mumble, glancing behind you to spot Josh sauntering in.

“Yeah, there’s something right there,” Danny teases, eyeing Josh.

Jake shoves in, rolling his eyes and tossing a pizza down onto your coffee table. He plops down on the couch, grabbing the remote so assuredly it was like he owned the place; he nearly did with the amount of time he spent over here.

“Have a seat,” You sigh sarcastically, shooting an apologetic glance over to Josh.

Not like you have any reason to feel bad, he was the one who invited them earlier. But he was also right– he had been good, he always was. He did deserve a reward, for you to make him feel good.

Although, you did enjoy the idea of watching him squirm all night.

“Decide on a movie?” You ask casually, sitting down in the squished armchair next to Josh. His breath hitches at the sudden contact, tensing almost immediately.

“Nope,” Jake answers, popping the “p”.

“He wants to watch The Princess Bride again,” Sam grumbles.

“No way, we’ve seen that a million times,” Danny complains.

You let their banter fade into background noise, knowing full well neither you or Josh were capable of paying any sort of attention to a movie right now. He turns to face you, his face neary pained as he studies your features.

“Sorry,” you frown teasingly, running your hand gently up and down his arm.

He clears his throat nervously, goosebumps prickling his skin where you were touching.

“That sound good guys?” Jake’s voice snaps you back to reality.

“Huh?” Josh coughs, eyes darting around the room anxiously.

“Treasure Island.”

“Y-yeah, sounds fine.”

Jake laughs, flicking the pizza box open and pressing play on the movie. Truthfully, it didn’t matter what movie was playing. Your eyes were squarely on Josh’s face, while his were glazed over in his attempt to pay attention to the screen.

Maybe it was fucked up, thinking about him like this when his brothers were sitting only two feet away. Images of pinning him under you, handcuffing him to the headboard. Denying him release just to hear him beg for what he wants in his sweet, lilting voice. Driving him crazy, refusing to let him touch you when that’s the only thing he ever really wants. It was so easy to work him up, to have him melting in your hands.

The movie continued to play, enrapturing the attention of your now fully unwelcome houseguests. Josh shifted subtly, pressing the throw pillow he had been clenching against his crotch in an extremely non-conspicuous manner.

“You okay?” You whisper lovingly, trying not to garner too much attention.

“Hm? Yeah, fine,” he strains, shifting against you once again.

“You sure? You look a little…” You trail off teasingly, scratching your nails against his arm.

“No, m’good,” his voice cracks, betraying his true feelings.

“Poor baby,” you coo, leaning your head onto his shoulder. His breath hitches, and he closes his eyes, cursing softly under his breath.

Scenes flash on the screen but it didn’t matter to either of you. Sam talked loudly over the movie, earning annoyed groans from both Jake and Danny, yet neither of you seemed to care. The pizza dwindled away, but food was the last thing on your mind.

No, all you cared about in this moment was Josh; touching him, kissing him, worshiping him. And you could tell that was the only thing on his mind too. The way his chest heaved, his cheeks flushed, the way he chewed his perfect bottom lip; he was so far gone you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.

What felt like an eternity later, the movie was over and the guys were clamoring to start another.

“No!” Josh shouts, surprising nearly everyone.

They all turn to face him, faces expressing a mixture of worry and shock.

“Sorry, I just- I mean- stomachache,” He stammers, eyes downcast to the floor.

“You okay, man?” Jake asked, laughing tentatively.

“He’s fine.” You rub his back soothingly, playing up the bit, “We ate at that one place earlier, I think the chicken had gone bad,” you explain, pulling on the memory you had of Jake locking himself up in the bathroom for twenty four hours after eating at a specific restaurant downtown.

“Oh, yikes.” Jake scratches his face, brows furrowed in concern, “Well… feel better man.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” you assure, glancing at Josh’s pouty face.

“Sure you will.” Sam rolls his eyes, standing up with a grunt and stretching dramatically, “We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Hope you feel better, Josh!” Danny shouts over Sam’s shoulder as they begin shoving out the door. Jake scoffs, shooting the two of you a more than knowing look.

Once the door clicks shut it’s impressive how quickly Josh is latching on to you. His hands clutching your sides, his mouth pressing hurried kisses to your neck.

“Please-” He chokes out, his voice cracking.

You shush him, petting his hair in an attempt to calm him down. You loved giving Josh what he wanted— he was more than deserving most of the time. Truly, all he wanted was to please you. But a tiny part of you, one that you tried to keep at bay, reveled in denying him. In refusing his wishes to touch you, kiss you, make you feel good.

He grabs your hand, tugging you towards the bedroom and a little voice in your brain reminds you of a certain object you had stowed away in a shoebox under your bed. A pair of handcuffs that you had initially bought as a joke— before you realized just how much you got off on using them on Josh.

You follow behind, letting him have his moment, letting him think that finally he was going to get the release his body had been screaming for all night.

He pulls you onto the bed, lips desperately seeking out your own as the two of you crash together in a heap of tangled limbs. His touch is urgent, exploring every dip and curve of your body like he had never touched you before. You pull back, breathless and flushed.

“Get the cuffs.”

His face falls, a pout gracing his perfect features, “Why?”

You stare at him silently, trying your best to appear firm and demanding. It was never easy with him.

“Because I said so.”

“But…” He’s fully frowning now, obviously hurt that you’re adding yet another obstacle separating the two of you, “I just… Mama, please, let me make you feel good. You know it’s all I wanna do.”

“I know, angel,” you hum, running your hands through his curls, “Don’t you trust me?”

He nods, still frowning, still silently refusing to do what you asked. You press a gentle kiss to his forehead, drinking in the sweet whine that slips past his swollen lips. He hesitates, but slowly lifts off the bed, reaching underneath and then pulling out the orange shoebox. He flips open the lid, revealing a wide array of toys, before pulling out the silvery handcuffs.

“Good boy,” you praise as he hands you the cuffs. He can act like he doesn’t want to wear them all he wants, but the way he’s straining against his jeans… you knew him too well to accept that this wasn’t something he wanted, “Do you remember our safe word?” You whisper, smiling when he nods enthusiastically.

“Undress for me, sweet boy.”

He rips off his clothes in record time, leaving only his boxers on and tossing the others into a random corner of your shared room. He lays down without question, lifting his hands up to the baseboard— he was familiar with this routine.

You crawl up his body slowly, tantalizingly, peppering kisses along the bare expanse of his torso. You shift into a sitting position, leaning over and clicking the cuffs loosely against his wrists. He tugs them once, showing you that he’s fully locked up. You shimmy down his body once more, lining your face up with clothed crotch. You press a kiss to the painfully obvious bulge that’s straining against his black boxers.

His hips buck up so hard he slams into your face, quickly muttering out an apology as he relentlessly grinds against nothing in a desperate attempt to feel any sort of relief.

“God… p- please touch me.”

“I am touching you,” You mumble, running your hands along his body, finally halting at the waistband of his boxers.

“You know what I mean,” he whines, staring at you so intently you suddenly feel embarrassed.

“Nuh uh.” You shake your head, “Use your words, angel.”

“Please, don’t make me say it.”

You roll your eyes, sliding the boxers down his legs slowly. Your mouth nearly starts to water when he springs from the confines he had been straining against all day. Precum is already leaking from his painfully red tip, spreading against his bare skin.

You lean down, maintaining eye contact as you lick slowly up the length of his cock. He inhales sharply, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood from the looks of it. He holds the breath, watching as you take him fully into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him.

His hips instinctively force themselves up, causing you to gag roughly around him. A string of barely audible apologies slip past his beautiful lips, as he strains against the cuffs, angry red indents sure to appear on his wrists if he kept up like this. Your eyes water, tears threatening to spill past your waterline. Usually, you’d punish him for this, but you figured he had been through enough today. After all, he was being good.

Lilting whimpers fill the empty room, sending heat straight to your aching core. You grind your hips against the mattress, desperate for anything, anything that would hold you over while you continued to work Josh up. Just the thought of finally feeling him after waiting all day was enough to make you moan around him.

“F-fuck,” he whined, pulling so hard against the cheap cuffs you were sure they’d snap in two, “I’m gonna cum if you keep that up.”

You pull off with a pop, wiping the spit from your mouth, your cheeks tinged pink and your eyes watering. His dick slaps audibly against his stomach, earning another moan from him. Pulling your shirt off slowly, maintaining eye contact, you finally reveal the lacy red bra you had been dying to show him all day. He groaned at the sight, his hands grasping at the air in front of them as he silently begged to touch you.

“Been waiting all day to show you this… bought it just for you.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

You stand up, shimmying your pants down at a tantalizing speed, making sure he fully took in the matching pair of panties. He stifles another delicious noise, practically humping the air. God, he was so pathetically desperate, and it was getting harder to keep up your act. All you wanted to do was give him exactly what he wanted. You bend down, giving him a clear shot of your ass as you find the keys for the cuffs.

Striding over to him with a grin, you slip the key into the lock, letting him free. He sighs happily, hands immediately pulling you in as he presses kisses to the exposed skin of your chest.

“Thank you,” he practically pants, his hands greedily tugging at you.

“Of course, angel,” you coo, sliding your hands into his curls, “you’ve been so good today.”

He smiles warmly at your praise, staring up at you sweetly. You slowly pull away from him, drinking in his dejected huff as you take away the one thing he had been begging for all day.

It wasn’t long before he was gripping at you again, his hands flying to your waist as you straddle his body. His chest heaved, the skin flushed pink. You nearly collided into him at the speed he tugged you down, your lips crashing together in his needy attempt to feel all of you.

His hands slid up your back, undoing the clasp of your bra and throwing into a dejected corner of the room. Your panties were next, torn with his clumsy attempt to rip them off.

“Those were expensive.” You pull back, pouting as you stare at the ripped pair of lacy underwear.

“I’ll buy you a new pair, I’ll buy you twenty new pairs, I don’t care,” he breathes, trying to tug you back down. He leans up, trying to catch you in kiss, and you grant him a chaste one, before pulling away.

You lift your hips up, using the hand that wasn’t holding you up to grab his dick, lining it up with your entrance. You slide it through your folds, enjoying the way his breath hitches at the feel of your wetness smearing against the tip.

“Jesus, fuck, holy—” A string of whines and expletives spew out from Josh as you slowly sink down, feeling him stretch you out. No matter how often you had him like this, you could never fully get used to how overwhelmingly large he was. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his as you breathe, trying to adjust to his size.

“You okay?” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of your face.

“Mhm.” You nod, inhaling deeply.

This is how it always happened. You tried to act tough, act like you were in charge. Would spend so long riling him up, pretending like you were in total control. Yet the second Josh really touched you, the moment he was inside you, it’s like your brain went empty. All you could think about was him. You felt… the only way to describe it was stupid. Dumb. Drunk on nothing but him.

“Want me to move?”

You nod again, not trusting your own voice.

He gently grabs your hips, slowly bringing you up, grinning when you gasp at the sensation.

How quickly the two of you had switched, how fast the dynamic changed, it always left your head spinning.

He lifts up into you, paying close attention to your facial features, always worried he’d hurt you. Once he had deemed it safe— and judging by the lazy grin that had plastered itself on your face it was— he decided to move again, picking up his pace ever so slightly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, whining as he begins to pound upwards into you.

He decided he was tired of this game, finally flipping you over and taking what he wants. With him pinning you down this time, you take this opportunity to use what little power you have left by locking your legs behind him, forcing him in even deeper.

“Christ, you- so fucking good,” is all he can manage as he continues to thrust sloppily, his hands roving every curve and dip of your body. Eventually the rest on your breasts, kneading the soft flesh a little too roughly. He bends down, catching you in a rushed kiss that cuts off the near constant stream of whines and moans he was forcing out of you. He leaves a trail of hurried, wet kisses down your neck, biting and nipping his own marks into the sensitive skin. Leaning back up, he glances down at his work, a wide array of pink and purple blooms appearing on your skin— matching the now bruised circumference of his wrists. Your nails dig into his back, scratching so hard he winces, stalling inside you.

“Fucking hell, so close,” he rasps, his hand snaking down to rub quick circles on your clit. The added pressure makes your head spin. You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to keep them open no matter how badly you want to take in his fucked out expression.

“Me too,” you choke out, chanting his name like a prayer as he continues his motions, every nerve of your body craving him like a drug.

You feel the pressure in your stomach build up, threatening to push you right over the edge any moment. Josh can tell too, the way you begin to absentmindedly squeeze around him making his movements even sloppier. Eventually you fall, screaming his name loud enough that even the neighbors three doors down could’ve heard it. He works you through it, faltering ever so slightly as he begins to reach his own climax.

“Where do you want me to-” he begins, trying his best to keep moving.

You keep your legs locked around him, pulling him in closer, “Inside.”

A strangled noise tears through him as he cums inside you, the feeling causing you to shake a bit. He flops down on top of you, gasping for air.

“Maybe we should invite your brothers over movie nights more often,” you suggest, an intoxicated giggle playing on your lips as you stroke his back to calm him down.

“Yeah… maybe we should.”

[mothgirl-is-a-gateway-drug]

Dying of the Nightlight

What are my regrets?

Could I have a cigarette?

Why am I playing nice?

If I lean into my vice

And those things everyone likes

Have I already succeeded

Or am I just a handful

Know a lot about handfuls

What’s with the tears? ‘Cause you know everyone here

I don’t fit in with the people

Nope, I lost all my peers

And all of my pets just caused me more fear

And all of these regrets

And this dead-end career!

Time just seems to fall away (From my hands)

Grains all dropping day by day (Made of sand)

As the ocean drifts aloft (Keep the brand)

It just falls away and bears the sight of it all

Talk about sparks

The love we left in the dark

Shock me to the bone

Yes, you sure left your mark

On my mind there’s still the scars

Thinking of what we are oh

It’s purgatory

Memento mori

Time just seems to fall away (From my hands)

Grains all dropping day by day (Made of sand)

As the ocean drifts aloft (Keep the brand)

It just falls away and bears the sight of it all

Time just seems to fall away (From my hands)

Grains all dropping day by day (Made of sand)

As the ocean drifts aloft (Keep the brand)

It just falls away and bears the sight of it all

Tiny grains of sand slip out of my hands

Am I just dead and I’m just yet to know?

Am I just dead and I’m just yet to know?

Am I just dead?

Am I just dead?

Are we all dead?

Are we all dead and we’re just yet to know?

Are we all dead and we’re just yet to know?

We’re just yet to know

We’re just yet to know

(Aw, yeeeaaah)

Time just seems to fall away (From my hands)

Grains all dropping day by day (Made of sand)

As the ocean drifts aloft (Keep the brand)

It just falls away and bears the sight of it all

Tiny grains of sand slip out of my hands

Everyone’s dead and we don’t even know

But I live on ‘til it’s my time to go

Ha ha ha ha

[vy-canis-melodis]

the following is a blog post, written by tanja, in the Bird HRT universe:

UPDATE and a cancelled article!

Hi all, it's been a long time since my last blog post. Here's the deal; I was in hospital. Long story short, some things went pretty wrong, and here I am, having to deal with a huge backwards step in progress then having had to retrace those steps with additional gooey complications and therapy.

Anyway, here's a journalistic article I was pretty close to finishing and submitting to actual newspapers before everything went down and I had to cancel it.

Rejecting Humanity - Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Just Be Myself

As I write this, I'm sitting in the waiting room of a Hospital cross Research Laboratory in London. By the time you're reading this, I'll have been on my treatment journey for over a year. What treatment, you ask? Well, it's Humanity Removal Therapy. One year ago, I undertook a radical new procedure which slowly transforms you from human to another form. Perhaps you've seen strange creatures out and about; a snow leopard at the supermarket, a dog at the drive-thru, or a tuatara at the thrift shop. Or, perhaps, you haven't; as I write this, the number of patients might not yet have reached triple digits worldwide.

Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Tanja ------, and I am an Iberian Azure-winged Magpie, scientific name 'cyanopica cooki'. One year ago, I was fully human, and now I look like a hybrid between our two species. So, let me guide you through my world.

How is this possible?

A little over a year ago, certain medical circles revealed that species transformation had been trialled in mice, turning them into various other creatures, with various success rates from 20 to 80% depending on size and how different the target species was. Now, I'm not for animal testing, but when I heard that human trials were going to open, I kept that pinned to my calendar. And so, after a few months, I was able to finally sign up and have my first interview. Which was… short. Turns out, they had pretty elaborate ways of gatekeeping people who really meant that they wanted it from those that they thought would regret the procedures. They also had a little joke, based on gender HRT, where they would ask if you'd spent years living as your preferred species beforehand. Or at least, I think it was a joke. And then, I was on my way to becoming the bird I love.

How much did it cost?

Well, luckily for me, the NHS provides free healthcare. Then, due to this being a clinical trial, I get paid for being a test subject. Then, due to the effects of the medicine, I receive Disability Benefits. The treatment itself is… a bit of a legal loophole, really. This very article may well be the first you've heard of it.

Is it just a magic pill?

Nope! It's a mix of CRISPR, gene replacement, hormone injections, and surgeries over time. It's a real mishmash, at least in my case. For example, keratinous structures can be grown through selective DNA editing and hormones that stimulate 'hair' growth in specific areas in specific ways. Bone structure can also slowly be altered in some cases through gene replacement, though in some cases, surgery is needed. My back, for example, will soon be undergoing surgery to adjust the way the vertebrae are laid out. Some aspects just are too difficult to be done naturally, and so artificial parts and prosthetics are added. But this complicated procedure has an upside - it means that there is more customisation possible! For example, a Harpy would be a very specific set of applications of Bird HRT that exclude certain aspects such as the face!

Are there downsides?

Definitely. There's the immunosuppression that has to occur to stop new parts from being rejected. There's the high risk of cancers and other diseases to occur as a result of this procedure. There's just the risk that your organs will fail. Most of this is irreversible too.

Why even do it then?

Because, to that small number of people, it's so worth it. This is a new life, an opportunity to discard that uncomfortable human vessel and be yourself at last. For the vast majority of people, being oneself is being human, but that's not the case for everyone.

Is it going to be banned?

Well, that's hard to say. Governments worldwide are, I'm sure, now aware of this phenomenon. And I think it presents a threat to the status quo. This is something new, something scary, something intimidating, that shifts the power balance between subjects and governers. And it's not just because some people have become huge fire-breathing dragons - it's the meaning behind it. They've rejected the very notion of the social contract between humans and crafted a new identity. Do we still count as people? And that's really the question, isn't it. So much of the way government and society works is to split people into groups of those that are 'more' people, and those that are 'lesser' people - and that dictates what societal violences are permissible, for example. This whole new procedure will have to make governments rethink so much, and it can either be a source of worry for us, or a source of hope for everyone. We just have to be loud enough to be heard for who we are.

So what will come next? Well, I'm going to hop on in to my next appointment, and the Earth will keep spinning. My first set of wings has almost reached full-span, and my toe-dexterity is almost at where I was with hands as a human. With my next set of primaries, I may have enough of a wingspan to fly, if I keep my weight low enough. Meanwhile, Parliament will likely have a debate on the issue, as a petition to legalise the procedure has a few thousand signatures on the government's official petition website. I'll be waiting on that result eagerly.

If you have any other questions, I'd be more than willing to answer them!

[bloggingboutburgers]

I'm here to bonce back on the "non tagging x reader content" when... Shippers do the EXACT same thing and get no flacks in returns?

ESPECIALLY mlm ones?

I mean why even bother? You either drool over those two men kissing or you're just a raging homophobe! Simple as that ! 😌 😇

You have no idea of the numbers of shipper accounts i had to block because they posted content for that ship that i hate without tagging it as shipping. And nobody bats an eye, everyone is cool with that because everyone ASSUMES you're into this.

And then they say shits like "Wow x reader is such a HATE CRIME am I right?" And everyone's agreed with them and you can't say shit in response because all the fandom back them up. (True story, i wish i made that one up)

And as a sex/romance repulsed aroace woman who's only comfortable with x reader fanfics to safely explore those complicated feeling the fuck am I supposed to do? I would get gutted on the street by the entire fandom.

And before everyone slash my throat : everyone should tag their content. No matter what it is. Shipping, x reader, whatever...

But why everyone is so comfortable shitting on the x reader community while the shippers get to do everything they want without any pushback????

Like idk how to say it, all the goods the x reader community gave me. Its the only community who accepted me in ANY fandoms i have been as an aroace woman, all the rest of the fandoms bullied me and tried to chase me away because i """"shipped myself""""" with male characters i saw as aroace coded too. The x reader community welcomed me and helped me carve my own space while the rest gave me fucking slack because I saw those characters as aroace instead of gay. (Because it is apparently the only valid queer interprétation ever)

Like fuck man...

This community is the only one who accepted to listen to me rambling about how those character were aroace coded and cheered for me writing about them while i was bullied off my first account because i did not agree with the popular ship.

I met more aroace people writing nsfw/romantic fics (YES I TAG THEM ALL) about those characters than i ever met in my entire life. HELL, each and every single Friend I made on this site came to me to thank me for my writing and they ALL turned out to be sex/romance repulsed aroace people.

TLDR : why is it always the x reader community that get flacked for doing something the shippers do since the very begining of fandoms without any repercussion?

Its getting old.

Sincerely an aroace sex/romance woman that will never let go of her x reader fanfics.

...OK ima be honest on that one

Personally I don't dig shipping OR xreader, I kinda put them in a "nope don't wanna read it" same bag

So yeah I don't get why people wouldn't see them on a same scale of value.

Literally people like different things and some would rather read different things and some wouldn't and everything's fine let's seriously just tag stuff to make our life easier and stop judging each other.

The absolute state of all of this. Jeeeeesus. That's part of why I don't even bother in fanfiction spaces anymore. That and the fac there's hardly ever anything that'd interest me anyway, I guess.

[chimkookie96]

I am so not good at words and I have so much feelings and the type to feels so so much. I’ve felt this feelings for years since I become an Army. I’ll never shut up the fact that I’ve been with bts and watching jikook since 2014.

it just surreal to see them never change but at the same time remind how me myself never change too. it wasn’t change, it was growth. Jimin and Jungkook growing up, Jimin being less vocal how much he loves jungkook doesn’t mean he’s not. Jungkook pushed him away, doesn’t mean he hates him. They were 18 & 16, Passionate & Shy.

the 18 year old me, first year in college binging every bts contents on youtube, twitter any platform i can get. I still remember when my roommate recommended bts to me, she showed me ‘We are Bulletproof Pt.2’ MV. Jimin caught my eyes right that moment. He’s definitely my type!.

As I become obsessed with bts, I got obsessed with jimin. Everything about him, I love him as he being himself, that passionate young jimin might be embarrassing and funny to watch now as we get older. It’s a sweet memories.

I get it Jimin adores Jungkook since the debut, even before pre debut. He was constantly show and said He loves Jungkook so much. I get him Jungkook have this cuteness about him. I mean even to this day Jungkook is a heartthrob.

Naturally I adores them both, The bangtan bomb where Jimin looking for Jungkook still fresh in my mind. I love seeing them together playing around,talking, teasing each others.

it’s like a serendipity (?) when I think about it deeper. I Didn’t ship them when I saw jikook content or analysis videos. NOPE. I love bts as them seven, but I didn’t plan to love jikook so much until today. It just happened naturally.

It happened naturally when I love jimin, I love everything about him, I see him so I see jungkook, see his affection for him, He cares for Jungkook. loving them made me discover ‘ship’ culture. To this day being in the ship culture is very toxic.

Shipping culture don’t do justice to whatever Jimin and Jungkook have. Their relationship is not just some ship. It’s not even close compare to any other ships in bts or out.

it’s still crazy to me as someone who have been here adoring them both. ‘AYS’ happened felt like a dream. It’s dramatic yes, other people probably won’t understand. Jimin has always careful with his actions and words. the fact he wanted to show us and do this show, I really really really appreciate him doing this for himself and for us.

what Jimin and Jungkook have is a lifetime bond.

They’re inseparable, unbreakable.

I got you, You got me.

I am you, You are me.

I love you, You love me.

[frostbitemutt]

some Jack marston hcs? Low honor more specifically 👀

Oh dear. But, Yes. Yes I will. This is low honor. Don't expect anything less than awful 💀.

Yandere! Low honor! Jack Marston hcs

Warnings: gender neutral darling, yandere trope, forced "relationship", obsession, stalking, harassment, unwanted crude flirting, perverted comments, non-consensual kissing and touching mentioned (nothing explicit), breaking and entering, kidnapping, violence, murder, sadism

Main traits:

|perverted/possessive/violent/sadistic|

✘ John Jack Marston Jr. Better to just call him Jack. A raunchy 19 year old trying to imitate his less than a saint father. On track to being an outlaw... yeah.. you're pretty fucked. He's an absolute little shithead.

✘ I'm going to assume you're a local townsfolk, maybe a store clerk, farmer, or maybe you're just his neighbor. You'll know when you've caught his eye. He makes it more than clear. Hounding you around town. Cat-calling you.

✘ His comments are perverted "They tell me I'm at my sexual peak sweetheart..", "Come on, just one kiss.", "are you are aroused as I am?".. and other comments. Very much to your dismay. Dosen't matter your gender. The perversion dosen't stop at words. If you don't have your curtains shut.. you may have to deal with a peeping Tom. His hands wander where they shouldn't, attempting to grab at you, pull you in close enough for him to kiss.

✘ He's possessive of you. You're not in a relationship. Hell you're not even friendly with him. You're definitely less than that. He still feels you're his regardless of the fact you hate his ass. No other man or woman needs to be looking or touching up on you. That's his job. Not theirs. He won't stand by and let someone else harrass you either. To him it's only okay when he does it. Hypocrite. Threatening, dueling, and shooting people left and right.

✘ Just like his daddy, he's violent. Wouldn't John be proud? Probably not. I already mentioned him shooting randos down. Your friends? They're found with a ludicrous amount of bullet holes. Lover? Yeah their head got blow clean off with a shotgun, sorry. You ain't off the hook either. He'll tackle you to the ground and manhandle you in a fit of anger. He'll shout real loud too. Sudden and explosive is how his temper runs.

✘ Sadism is something that shines through a bit in Jack. Now he's not going out of his way to harm or hit you most of the time, unless he's feeling petty. Maybe he'll give you a mildly harsh kick to your side. However that dosent mean he isn't at all. Your tears, your screams, your sobs, and your insults...make him feel all funny inside as he'd put it. Yuck. He'll laugh and snort at you most of the time. Mocking you and your fear. Maybe even make some pig noises at you to add some salt to the wound.

✘ You swear, you wake up at least once a week to a weird noise in your home. Window or door suddenly cracked open, not even cracked, more like wide open. Yet you can't find no one. Oh, yeah, mutiple items go missing too. Lots of clothes. Toothbrush. Notebooks if you got any. Were there always boot prints in your carpet? Your bed feel oddly warm? Nope. It was Jack. Who else.

✘ Escape is certainly.. difficult when he goes to kidnap you. He abuses the fuck out of his lasso. Running away on foot? Lasso. On horse? Get the fuck over here. Lasso. Move more than 30 feet from him? Lasso. That point he's doing it cause he thinks it's funny. Unfortunate for you. Not to downplay the fear that comes with it. Thinking you're free, only to be yanked off your horse and hogtied to the back of his.

✘ It's all much worse when he has you isolated, in his home. No police you can snitch to, bystanders to chase him off, or neighbors of yours to questioning him snooping about. He's dosen't bother restraining himself, he was barely before. Sloppily kissing you, hands grasping wherever he can, shoving you against the nearest solid surface. It's vile.

✘ You'll have to endure more of his tantrums than ever. Grumbling when you refuse to talk to him, because why would you want to? Pouting and stomping his foot when you push him away from you. Going on rants when you won't stop crying. His mood changes day from day. Luckily after a bit you might be able to read his face and tell when he's about to to blow a fuse. You can brace yourself for his delusional complaining.

✘ Don't loose all hope. Escape is possible. Now I'm not going to say Jack's stupid, he isn't. However we're still talking about a 19 year old. (I'm almost 19 I can throw shade). He doesn't have a plethora experience like his dad or an older outlaw. He's a new adult on a violent power trip. If he leaves the house, check the locks, he might have forgotten one. Try to knock him unconscious in his sleep or.. more permanent if you're absolutely certain you can. That's the more risky option. If you can act well enough, you can possibly convince him to let you outside with him. If he does? Book it.

[egophiliac]

queen of diamonds, upright + reversed 💎

I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no 🫠

[palin-tropos]

Harry having the apricots-Dora-peaches of immortality-Dolores Dei visceral trauma response to the cover of the inframaterialism book (even though we have also pointed out it’s abstract kimharry with the green and orange and he doesn’t react to Kim’s orangeness or apricot empire in Suzerainty)

is one of the few scraps of evidence for my fanon birth name for the apocalyptic shrike: Nils Ingerlund

[mechazushi]

After the Fall {AN ACTUAL SHORT STORY THIS TIME} [Kaiju No. 8] (Could be considered as possible Ep11 spoilers; interpreted artistically)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"Kafka Hibino." Captain Mina Ashiro started, "No. Kaiju Number Eight. I am taking you into custody." She leveled her gun to him. Her voice as steady as her hands, taking care not to let an ounce of sadness that had filled her soul melt her outward resolve. The companies were distraught and heavily wounded. Most of the infrastructure in the training area had been reduced to ash. An arched border line had been etched into the pavement around them. One side was mostly intact with spider cracks in various locations. The other side was a pale, dusty mess. No surface from the border and beyond was traversable with all of it being splintered, jutting, and uneven.

At the peak of the arch stood a half dissolved monster, melting back into a man. When the flecks peeled off and drifted into the remnants of the wind, a face began to emerge. Kafka Hibino, the former member of the Third Division had ousted himself as the elusive Kaiju Number Eight. He stood stone still, letting fragments of his alter form slough off as he never took his eyes off his captor. He wanted to think he knew what she was thinking, that this is just protocol, that there was no place in her heart that harbored ill will or intent. Mina wouldn't use her gun against him, right? They could still be friends, that he could still fight for his spot at her side.

He couldn't tell. Mina was unreadable as ever and Kafka couldn't blame her. He had been reprimanded enough times to know that this was just how she had to be in front of others in the Division. Her place wasn't a position where she was afforded the leeway to be physically emotional. Emotion was considered weakness, and she had to be strong for the others. To the officers, she was being seen as a strong captain, standing against a Daikaiju threat. It didn't matter that this was Kafka, that everyone had seen that it was Kafka who made a harrowing choice to save the lives of thousands. All they saw now was a monster, no matter how human and familiar its face was.

"Hoshina. I need you to cuff him." Captain Ashiro commanded. Hoshina heard, but was refusing to act. He couldn't bring himself to look at the situation in front of him. A man he trusted, a man he had considered as a friend and compatriot, was confirmed to be a threat to the world. Hoshina wasn't sure at the beginning what Kafka's circumstances were. He knew that things were off, but he chose to ignore them. The whole reason for letting Kafka join as a cadet was so Hoshina could investigate him, and he failed to do even that. All because he couldn't look past his smile. How could a man with a smile so bright and genuine ever be a threat to others. He didn't believe it, refused to believe it. He wasn't going to slap cuffs on a man that didn't have a threatening bone in his body.

But was he a man? Everyone saw Kafka gain impossible speed. They all saw Kafka, as a kaiju, blast into the sky and launched the bomb to a safer distance. Was Kafka a kaiju now because he was strong and dangerous? Or was he still a man because he understood sacrifice? Kaijus didn't need to deal with pesky feelings. They didn't have to worry about what others thought of them. All there was in kaiju minds was to eat and destroy. Kafka could express emotion, and has expressed desire outside of destruction. If Kafka knew that others would turn and run in fear if they knew what he was and what he could do, why did he do it anyway?

"Hoshina." Captain Ashiro commanded again, dislodging her Vice Captain from his thoughts. He still didn't want to do this, still choosing to believe in the man behind the monster's mask, but it wasn't a good idea to make the Captain repeat herself. Reaching into his side pouch, he dug up one of the plastic handcuffs that most officers are issued with. They were issued with the intent that defense members might encounter people taking the opportunity for ransacking during invasions and could preform arrests until the offender could be picked up by proper authorities. Hoshina walked up to Kafka and held the industrial zip-tie in his hands. Every neuron in his skull felt like it was screaming in retaliation, making his hands hesitate in the action of placing Kafka under physical arrest. He almost wanted to laugh. Did anyone here actually think that these meager restraints could hold back a person with a registered fortitude rating? Kafka slowly held out his wrists in front of him, looking like a toddler that was expecting a ruler to come down on them in punishment.

"It's okay. I know." Kafka whispered imperceptibly to him. His head was bowed solemnly, but he looked at Hoshina as his face remained ever reassuring. He almost felt like slapping the look off of him. How dare he act like this. How dare he try to be apologetic and caring for others in this situation. Why couldn't he be an asshole and run, fight, do anything to save himself. For god's sake, why can't he be selfish. Having to deal with a daikaiju on the loose would have been less gut wrenching than having to send a fellow soldier to an uncertain fate.

"Captain Ashiro, I can explain-" Reno Ichikawa was shouting as he came barreling over the fallen debris as nimbly as possible. Following behind at a much slower pace was Kikoru Shinomiya.

"Save it Officer Ichikawa!" Ashiro barked at him, "Telling by your outburst at this time of all places, tells me you have some knowledge on this as well." she holstered her side arm now that Kafka had been successfully restrained.

"You too, Shinomiya. Hoshina told me about his suspicions about how you managed to neutralize the honju at the acceptance trials earlier this year and with you showing up behind Ichikawa here, I can assume that you're in on this too." She began to wordlessly direct those around her and made moves to stand behind Kafka and Hoshina.

"Okonogi, send several vehicles over to the training area. We have multiple wounded and a lot of tired soldiers that I think would rather drive than walk back to barracks. Leader Ebina, gather some of your people and start marking a path through the rubble so we can transport the wounded."

"Roger that, Captain. Do you want me to send an armored vehicle for Kaiju Number Eight?" replied Okonogi. Captain Ashiro looked hard at Kafka, now back to appearing completely human and in the plastic cuffs. Hoshina was looking right at the captain. Blood had stopped dripping down his face minutes ago, but it was still clear that he wasn't in any shape to fight anything more powerful than a mouse right now. She took in the fact that his hands were placed gently on top of Kafka's limply curled fists, a sight that Kafka couldn't pull his eyes away from.

"No. Leave the armored vehicle for now. We might need it to be fueled and stocked for whatever happens tomorrow." Ashiro replied back after serious consideration. With most of the Division looking the way it did, and the person most capable of going head to head with a daikaiju of small size looking like death warmed over, she acknowledged the fact that Kafka; or Kaiju Number Eight, she hadn't stopped her brain from fluctuating between the two, hadn't taken the opportunity to bolt for the hills. She figured if he was going to try anything, he would have as soon as she leveled her sidearm at him. In the bright moonlight over head, she could see the person she once considered a friend chuckle noticeably.

"Thanks for that, Captain Ashiro. Those trucks don't have the best air condi-"

"Save it. I don't want to hear another word from you tonight." Captain Ashiro commanded. She could clearly see the word's effect on him as he visibly flinched at her sharp tone. As the officers around her got into position and steadied their hands on their rifles, she pointed her finger off over Hoshina's shoulder, indicating that they should start moving. Kafka's feet regretfully began to shuffle around to face the direction he was supposed to go in, but when he tried to take an actual step he hissed loudly and nearly collapsed to his knees onto the pavement. Hoshina didn't think for a second as he rushed forward to catch him before he landed, propping himself under Kafka's broad chest and grabbing his shoulder to keep him balanced. The chorus of six safety switches all clicking off in unison could be heard behind the two of them.

"Shit- Sorry, sorry! Knees were locked." Kafka said, glancing over his and Hoshina's connected bodies.

"Sorry." He added, seemingly addressed to no one in particular.

'Maybe that was addressed to all of us.' Hoshina thought as he helped Kafka readjust to his feet. Once he felt okay enough to walk, he began to move forward at a sluggish pace. It was clear to Hoshina that he wasn't walking slow on purpose, and that it really must have taken a lot out of him to propel himself into the air and sucker punch a twenty kiloton yoju bomb into the lower stratosphere. Hoshina kept a hand on Kafka's upper back as he gently guided him through the path Ebina's team had marked earlier. With the moment they were in being as quiet as possible, save for the occasional echoing crash of broken rubble hitting the ground all around them, Hoshina took a second to think.

'I mean, when you think about it, that should be enough to knock the wind out of anyone capable of doing that in that sort of situation.' He stunned himself with the words in his head. How could he even try and logic out what a man with the power of turning into a Kaiju was even qualified to accomplish? This whole situation was absurd and he hated it. He hated everything in that moment. He hated Kafka for putting himself in danger, he hated Captain Ashiro knowing she was only doing her job, he hated himself because he was the one who told Kafka not to get attached to others on the job because God only knows what could happen and here he was, feeling attached knowing damn well that he was going to feel like shit because he was basically loosing the best damn thing this Division had going for it!

Hoshina couldn't writhe in his personal hell for much longer as the group had made it to the busted doors of the training grounds. The remnants of his fight with Kaiju Number Ten as well as debris from the explosion had all been pushed to the sides as best as possible. A few tents had been erected to preform triage and separate the barely scratched from the mortally wounded and treat them appropriately. A rotating convoy of open air trucks and military jeeps were set up at the far end of the street carrying the tired and lightly wounded to somewhere else on base for rest, if it was available for most. All activity seemed to slow, almost stopping in some areas as Kafka led his paltry parade showcasing his imprisonment through the masses. It almost felt like a display of a man being condemned. Okonogi pulled ahead of the line in her own commandeered jeep and pulled it to a stop in front of Kafka and Ashiro. The captain told the six behind her to grab a vehicle for themselves and follow close behind, before wordlessly hopping into the passenger seat of the car. As Hoshina hopped in the exposed backseat, he could hear Kafka groan and hiss as he settled into the spot on the bench next to him.

"Hssssss, haaaa, hoooo. Wow, sitting down. A novel idea. Who knew?" Kafka talked exhaustedly as he fumbled with the lap belt using his restrained hands.

"Miss Okonogi, not to presumptuously assume your driving skills, but you mind being careful and avoiding potholes and barricades on the way to my cell. I'm gonna take a nap." Kafka's head slumped unceremoniously against the metal bar framing the back of the jeep and immediately started to breath heavily, almost as if he was asleep already. His closed eyes meant he didn't get to see Mina's irritated glare she sent his way before she took the clipboard that Okonogi brought with her. Hoshina rested his elbow against the car's sidewall and placed his face in his hand, staring at an unaware Kafka.

'He's asleep. This no good, dirty, rotten, lying, mutant Kaiju bastard is asleep?' Hoshina thought angrily. As he felt the car move forward and tuned out Captain Ashiro and Okonogi's conversation, he realized all he could think about in that moment was him.

'A man saves an entire base and this is how we thank him.' Hoshina's inner monologue continued. He knew he wasn't the only one here who felt like this, and when the news got out in the morning he was sure lots of others were going to have mixed feelings on this as well. Arresting him was for the best, he knew that as well. Good intentions or no, human or no, it didn't change the fact that Kafka can become a kaiju. The whole purpose of the Divisions was to eliminate kaijus. The fact that Kafka was allowed to breathe, let alone sitting in the back of a car with the two most powerful people on base at rock bottom of their best, spoke volumes about how crazy and fucked up these circumstances were. Protocol was kill on sight, and Kafka knows this. Yet here he was, sleeping the rest of his freedom away.

'It wouldn't be hard, either.' Hoshina thoughts continued, 'I may not be able to put up a good fight at the moment, but we can assume he's mostly human right now. He's asleep and tired, which means he's vulnerable' He played with the tip of the handle connected to his sword. 'I could end it all for him right now and he wouldn't be wiser.'

But he wouldn't. Hoshina couldn't lay any hand on him with deadly and harmful intent behind it, now and forever. Monster or Human, it didn't matter anymore. Nothing could ever change the fact that Hoshina had one percent of trust in this man right now. And he wondered if Kafka could feel that too, because why else could he be so blissfully asleep right now.

'He's not going to be like that for long.' Hoshina thought bitterly. The protocol was kill on sight for honju and yoju, yes, but that stopped at daikaiju. they were killed like any other threat, but whatever that was left of the body after the fight was sent off for research. Research and experimentation. Hoshina knew that it was a snowball's chance in hell that the leaders of the Defense Force were just going to let them keep Kafka on base, but were they going to let Kafka stay alive and intact? Hoshina could feel his heart be poisoned and start to cramp up at the thought. He had to look away for a moment , lest tears started to mix with the blood and stain his cheeks even more. It took several sharp breaths and a solid minute of mental filing to help his chest feels normal again.

Hoshina tried to take another look at the mystery that was his fellow soldier. A face as still as a forest pond, covered in already healed scratches. Light from the moon created soft shadows on his eyelids and neck. flickering and shifting in tandem with the shakes and jolts coming from the moving jeep. His worker's tan looking more pronounced than it usually did. Kafka looked stoic and peaceful, which created a stark contrast to the unearthly and demonic visage Hoshina has associated with Kaiju Number Eight. It was an awful situation Hoshina found himself in.

On one hand, he wanted to come across the bench and hold him. Whisper calmly in his ear that everything was going to be okay. That he won't have to worry about whatever that's going to come for him in the morning. On the other hand, he wanted to be the one that was being held. To have all those sweet and empty promises whispered back at him, to be told that things would be fine for him too. Kafka won't have to leave the base, that this whole kaiju transformation business was just the concussion talking, and the base will be back to operational in no time at all.

None of those things were going to happen. The base reconstruction was going to take forever, Kafka was going to have to leave, and nothing was going to be fine. Hoshina turned away again, feeling the chest tightening again and wanted to keep his tears to himself for the time being. He couldn't cry now because there was a superior officer present and didn't also want to wake Kafka. He couldn't cry in the morning because he needed to be strong in the face of whatever decision that was to come down on his officer's head. As the first shifts of color indicative of the approaching dawn began to brighten the night sky, Hoshina tamped down every bit of emotion he had to let out later into the first few minutes of however much sleep he was going to get in those twilight hours.

This was going to be a rough few months, wasn't it?

[g0nefischin]

Tumblr ate the ask :( but it was along the lines of:

Hello can I request 1 (one) papyrus in a dress please?

Thank you and congrats on 100!

Feelin pretty

dress inspired by this

Poplar is from @bonelyheartsclub

Thanks for the request Anon!

[wonderwomemes]

Ok i'm curious because i come from a region where you will get nicknamed if you want to or not

Nickname is everything that isn't your name that's on your ID (except if it's a deadname of course and you didn't legally change it (yet)).

[toastsnaffler]

in a hilarious turn of events my flatmate didn't even know I use any pronouns....

[armenelols]

Yeah I've just realised it's been months since I posted or reblogged or replied to anything on here, so. Yeah. Obligatory announcement that I am still alive and well. My mind got wiped midway through exam season at the end of january and since they then I've been vibing in a stress free world where I am not worried about anything or doing anything