#bit of a ramble under the cut hehe

[gracie-eilish]

study break {part two}

warnings: contains mild smut - fingering r! receiving, dumbification if you squint really hard without glasses on

an: i freaking love this trope🤓 pls lmk if you want more of them bc they’re adorable to me:))))))))))))

also this will probably be the last smut fic i write for a teensy weensy bit!! idk i’ve just been feeling weird writing smut lately!! im not deleting any smut requests already in my inbox though so fear not, i’ll probably write them later hehe :)

pairing: jock!billie x nerd/student!reader part one

You were completely at her mercy, your breath shallow, your heart racing.

“You—” You swallowed.

“What baby? Cat got your tongue, hm?” She smirked watching you struggle to speak, your big eyes shifting on hers.

“You’re a menace,” you finally squeaked out.

“And you love it,” she whispered against your lips, kissing you again, deeper this time, as she carried you effortlessly toward your bedroom.

Just before she reached the door, she smirked against your lips. “By the way,” she murmured, her voice dropping an octave, “you’re not getting any sleep tonight, baby.”

And with that, she kicked the door shut behind her...

... and crashed her lips onto yours making you squeak in surprise.

The air was thick with anticipation as Billie lay you down on the soft silk sheets, your heart racing with excitement and a hint of nervousness.

"Bils," you whined, grabbing at her top, trying to pull it off.

"Patience, baby girl. Wanna take it slow, yeah? Let me help you relax for once. Turn that pretty brain off for a bit," she purred, leaning in to kiss just below your ear. "Can you do that for me, sweet thing? Can you relax for me?"

You were goo in her hands, like pure honey as she looked at you hungrily yet so softly. You nodded without blinking, jaw going slack watching her smirk.

"Nah uh baby, you know better. Need words, mama." You squirmed in her grasp and whined making her chuckle cockily, poking her cheek with her tongue.

"Yes, Bils, just need you please touch me," you rambled, making her giggle and lean back in.

"Sshhhh, honey, let me love on ya," her whispers made goosebumps appear on your skin as she started to push your top up and off of you.

Slowly, she helped you sit up a bit so she could remove your sweater, revealing a dainty lace bra decorating your breasts.

"Did you wear this on purpose?" she teased, knowing she was usually the one to initiate sex and not the other way around. Your face flushed burgundy.

"No, I haven't done laundry because I've been studying, so I didn't have any normal bras clean, so I had to wear- oh!" She cut off your adorable rambling with a trail of kisses from your jaw to your breasts.

"It's perfect, princess," she mumbled into your skin, looking up at you through her lashes.

One by one, the remaining layers flew off of both of you, only stopping once so Billie could admire the matching underwear you had on. For such a quiet little thing, you always surprised Billie with your wild side.

"My sweet girl," Billie purred, her voice low and full of promise. She sat back on the bed, revealing her luscious body to you. Her full breasts were barely covered by a black lace bra, and a matching thong accentuated her slender waist and round hips. "Are you ready for me, baby?"

Your shyness melted away under Billie's intense gaze.

"Yes, Billie," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "I'm ready, Mommy." The pet name slipped out, a sign of your submission, and Billie's eyes lit up with delight.

"That's my good girl," Billie cooed, leaning over to capture your lips in a searing kiss. Her tongue invaded your mouth, demanding and passionate, leaving you breathless. Billie's hands roamed freely, caressing your thighs, teasingly close to your core.

As the kiss deepened, Billie's touch became more daring. She slid her hand beneath your bra, cupping your soft breast, thumb stroking the hardening nipple. You arched into her touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. Billie's fingers deftly unhooked the flimsy garment, baring your flawless body to her hungry gaze.

"You're so beautiful, my angel," Billie whispered, her breath hot against your skin as she trailed kisses down your neck, pecking the marks she left earlier. "So shy, yet so eager. I love seeing you like this, wanting me."

Your body trembled as Billie's lips traveled lower, leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone. "P-please, Billie..." you pleaded, your hands tangling in Billie's hair, urging her downward.

Billie chuckled, the sound filled with lust. "Patience, my sweet.

With that, she nipped at your sensitive skin, making you squirm. "You gonna call me Mommy all night, aren't you, baby?"

You nodded, face flushed. "Yes, Mommy," you whispered, your voice steadying as you embraced your submissive role.

Billie's fingers trailed down your body, pausing at the waistband of your lace panties. She gently tugged them down, exposing your glistening pussy. "So wet already," she murmured, admiration in her voice. "You want me inside you, don't you?"

Your cheeks burned, but you nodded eagerly. "Yes, please, Mommy. I want you so badly."

Billie's fingers danced over your folds, teasing your clit, making you squirm with need. "Tell me what you want, baby," she urged, her touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I-I want your fingers inside me, Mommy," you gasped, your voice laced with desperation. "Please, touch me..."

With a wicked grin, Billie complied, sliding two fingers deep into your tight heat. Your back arched off the bed as a wave of pleasure hit you.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, your body already sensitive and responsive.

Billie's touch was firm and relentless. She pumped her fingers in and out, twisting them to hit your sweet spot with each thrust.

"That's it, my good girl," she growled, her breath hot against your ear. "Let me hear you. Scream for me."

Your cries filled the room as Billie's skilled fingers worked your body into a frenzy. Your hips bucked wildly, seeking more of Billie's touch.

"Faster, Mommy! Please, don't stop!"

Billie added a third finger, stretching you deliciously. "You like that, huh, baby?" she asked, her voice rough with desire. "You love being filled by Mommy's fingers."

"Yes! Oh, God, yes!" You panted, your eyes rolling back as pleasure overwhelmed you. "I love it, Mommy. I'm so close..."

Billie's thumb found your clit, circling it relentlessly as she finger-fucked you with abandon.

"Come for me, my sweet girl," she demanded, her voice commanding. "Let me feel your pussy clench around my fingers."

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over your senses. You cried out, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through you.

"Mommy!" You screamed, your voice hoarse as you climaxed, your pussy contracting around Billie's fingers.

Billie slowed her movements, gently withdrawing her fingers, leaving your body buzzing with satisfaction. She brought her slick fingers up to your lips coaxing you to open, letting you suck your juices off her fingers.

"That's my good girl," she praised, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "You took everything I gave you baby."

You smiled shyly as she slipped her fingers out of your mouth, your eyes glazed with post-orgasmic bliss, chest still heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. "I—I can't believe I did that, Billie. I've never..."

"Never what, sweet girl?" Billie asked, tracing patterns on your naked body, making you shiver.

"I've never been so... vocal," you admitted, your cheeks flushing.

Billie's eyes softened, and she leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

"You did amazing, my angel. I love hearing you scream my name." She chuckled, nipping at your lower lip.

You giggled, your heart fluttering as you felt a newfound sense of empowerment. Billie's hand drifted lower, her fingers brushing against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp. "Don't get comfy yet, princess, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve to keep that brain turned off for a bit, yeah?"

Your eyes widened with anticipation, your body already stirring with renewed desire. "Oh, Mommy," you breathed, your voice a mix of surrender and excitement...

[meganegatari]

heh.. okay, so you asked for different.. rubs hands together villaniously as i materialize from the bottomless shadows..

sub!vampire!ellie biting/bloodsucking denial.. reminding her how much of a good girl she needs to be even when your wrist is practically just brushing past her lips to cradle her face.. or when the weakest bead of blood is pricked from your finger.. flaunting it.. teasing.. goddess bless throw in whatever else you see fit freakmaster

TEMPTATION WAITS

before you read! ▪︎ my masterlist ☆: co-president...this is absolutely divine...shoulda seen the way i dropped everything for this im literally #TWEAKING. new fav thing i've ever written methinks. title song. (vibes aren't there but the title was too good.) ps: if you spot any typos i wrote this with one hand. KIDDING...or am i? divider creds—cafekitsune. ◇: not outright smut, but still suggestive!! and nsfw is described. fluffy end bc i think she earned it, lore sprinkled in because why nawt it's interesting, finger sucking (e! receiving), this is maybe a lil ooc idrc, she's described as looking quite ill in her vampiric form + begs like her century long life depends on it fr, (but also has a bit of an attitude, it issss ellie after all), mean!r, talk of blood/previous bite wounds. ++ 3.3k wc. doesn't need to be that long but atp? take it or leave it LOLL. filing under "oneshots" bc it's way more than usual reqs hehe.

“Please, baby. Just one taste. I'll do anything.” Desperate, shaky pleas spilled from Ellie, her voice noticeably tired from the effort. She's been at this for what felt like forever now, and you were getting tired of ignoring her. Or rather, a little bored.

She was kneeling on the wooden floor by your bed, fisting the creased sheets, trying to capture your attention. The shimmering moonlight was dancing on her features as if it was a sparkle of fireflies, making her oddly colored eyes appear to glow, and highlighting her sickly appearance.

In her vampiric form, her skin was tinted a ghostly—even chalky—white, barely a smidgen of blush dancing on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from their original grassy green to a peculiar duochrome blend of emerald and ruby. She really looked unwell, but you knew it was merely a product of circumstance, her gloomy fate.

Ellie donned somber dark circles around her eyes, her lips withered, pale, and thin as a piece of tissue paper. Just behind them though, rested two deadly weapons of her very own—sizeable, razor-sharp, gleaming ivory canines reflecting the scarce lighting as if they were made of mirrored glass.

For the first time tonight, you met her gaze, assuming an unbreakable poker face. Her keen sight could pick out the most subtle of twitches, so you learned to defeat that. The moment you met her line of sight she perked up, her eyes widening in glee, you had finally acknowledged her existence after so long.

Scooting forward you placed yourself right in front of her still kneeling form, sitting so she was in between your legs, but she wasn't allowed to touch you until you said so. What torture.

She began again, “Can I do something to make you change your mind? I'll do anything. Anything in the world. I'll make you feel re-really good, and then I won't ask again…ever even, if that's what you want. Just please let me…I'm so thirsty.” She was rambling a million miles a minute, slurring her words and cutting herself off with hiccups, stuttering like was having a nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaving up and down was visible to you despite the dim surroundings, and you could just make out her facial expression—a pained grimace, as if she was experiencing all of humanity's greatest suffering. When you didn't reply but stayed observing her blankly, she sighed and hung her head in shame, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You extend a hand, twirling a strand of her hair—previously silky and vibrant, now as lifeless and dull as charred hay—and you feel her relax under your touch. You continue raking your fingers through her locks, scratching her scalp with your nails, and you hear her exhale forcefully. She's likely overwhelmed by your scent—it's invigorating, fresh, and full of life.

“Have you been good?” You pipe up with a voice colder than ice, softly caressing the flesh of her tense cheek, and letting your fingertips travel to the underside of her chin. You gently tilt her head up, noticing the way her eyelids flutter to a close. She's soaking up the heat radiating off of you, making sure to feel the sensations of your skin brush against hers as much as she can, commit them to memory for when she's apart from you.

Her lips part, allowing for hushed, woeful whimpers to pour out, and she instinctively bites her bottom lip to quiet herself. Only she forgets about the powerful daggers in her mouth, and almost pierces right through her own skin.

Taking notice, you tut at her, warning clicks of your tongue bouncing off the room’s walls, contrasting the dead of night’s eerie silence. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You push the pad of your thumb down on the plush of her lip, angling her jaw side to side, examining those killer gnashers she's got.

“You could hurt yourself with these y'know, be careful.” Her eyelids flicker open, she's staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes she could muster, somehow all while maintaining such a strong glare you feel as if she's trying to challenge you.

“I'll decide if you can have some, as long as you're good, and you let me have some fun first. Alright?” You explain in a neutral tone, earning a cute “mhm” of confirmation from the undead being before you. “Good girl.”

You slowly slip your thumb into her mouth, avoiding her fangs at all costs, and you let her wrap her slippery tongue around your digit, watching how her cheeks hollow and her eyes roll ever so slightly while she sucks, moaning as she takes in your taste—nothing more than just skin.

You chuckle at her desperation, revel in the power dynamic you have created. “Mmm, you taste so good, so sweet.” She mumbles, swirling her tongue around your thumb, coating the entirety of it in her spit. You allow it for now, but soon enough, to no surprise, she slyly tries to shift to the side in preparation to slice you and get her treat.

You sharply retract your hands from her, removing your finger from her mouth with a pop, disappointed by her greed, her audacity. She turns to the side and pouts, huffing and rolling her eyes with more attitude than a moody teen. “What did I say?” You calmly hiss at her. She whispers, almost inaudibly, “Sorry…taste so good, can't help m’self.” Her voice wavered, and the moonlight illuminated the faintest tinge of red across her features, it was nearly invisible.

But you could tell exactly what was up. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, grunting with laughable, pitiful attempts to rub her thighs together, fingers toying with the cloth of her pants, putting her frustration on full display. You looked at her struggle, unable to contain your grin.

It was a different kind of high, seeing such a feared and fabled beast kneel before you in such a pathetic manner, but it turned you on like nothing else. It was also evident she enjoyed it as well, no matter how much she didn't want you to be aware of the fact. The extent to which she worships you and handles your body, the way she was willing to beg and let you order her around showed just how much you meant to her—it was beautiful in its own way, how devoted she was to you. You were her person.

The fact she couldn't stifle her desire anymore after all this time suggested a shift in the atmosphere of your wicked games, the tension in the air was getting impossibly thicker, and you were loving every second of it.

Ellie, you've got a short memory.” You tease, then gesture to the gauze wrapped around your forearm, protecting two puncture wounds left by none other than her just the previous night. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow, grouching, “Yeah, I see that, what about it?” The husky edge to her voice had returned, the defiant attitude you loved to crack was back in full force.

“Hundreds of years old, you even have memories of wars, and you can't remember what happened, like, 24 hours ago? Wow…” Your voice is so patronizing, it's unpleasant and abrasive on the ears, even your own. She shrugs her shoulders, still kneeling on the cold, hard ground at your mercy. “Well let's have a refresher then, shall we?” Tearing the tan-colored bandage apart with a single rip, you reveal the puncture marks—they were still wet and irritated, the wounds reopening immediately at the slightest movement.

Ellie whines like an animal, a crude “ahh”, and she starts pleading harder than ever. “Please, baby, my pretty, my angel, please, please, pleasepleaseplease, just lemme have a drop, just one. That's all, I swear.” Her gaze darkens exponentially, if you didn't know her it would instill fear in your heart, but luckily you were well aware of all her tricks. She snarls, “Fuck you. I'm literally on my fucking knees right now. Why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks angrily, wobbling with great lust and need—the need to have you, the need to drink you and fondle you and taste you in all senses of the word, and at this point she didn't seem to care about preserving a morsel of her dignity, she was simply so drunk on you, you couldn't believe.

You reiterate the previously established explanation, “We have an agreement that says you're allowed to take my blood once a month, so you can have some more each time. Rather than taking a little bit but more often, you requested this yourself. And you already drank lots yesterday. Does that not ring a bell?”

She groans, a gravelly, guttural sound that had you coming back to your senses and realizing, this was technically, a monster who you loved so dearly.

It led you to wonder—to her kind, what was so special about the liquid coursing through your veins?

When you split your lip open as a kid, clumsily tumbling face-first onto the asphalt, or bit your tongue while eating something stubborn, the strange, metallic taste was purely disgusting. It had a certain heaviness to it, both physically with the way it sat in your mouth, but also mentally. Like a subconscious awareness you were not meant to consume it like she does, but to spit it out the millisecond it made contact with your taste buds. There were times where the thought made you queasy, the measly knowledge of just how much of this fluid was inside you, keeping you alive.

But to her, it was a completely different story. She lapped it up with such fervor, such thirst you've never seen before. A sloppy frenzy like there wasn't a single thing more delightfully flavorful.

Her teeth penetrating all the way through your epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, and straight through the vein wall was a feeling you're likely never going to get used to. It stung, it really did, and you were quick to get all woozy from the blood volume loss, but Ellie knew your limits—even though hers were not even close. Her thirst was insatiable.

The intimacy of the act was a whole separate topic to think about too. It was such an erotic experience, and when probed about it she argues it's better than sex, somehow. When she drinks from you, Ellie is really messy with it, you noticed. Blood dribbles down her chin and stains her lips as if it's a designer lip oil, the distinct deep maroon color sometimes appearing clownish and too intense against her fair complexion.

She was really handsy as well, and you weren't sure if it was purposeful, but you didn't care to ask because you didn't really mind in the first place. It felt nice. Her muscular hands tend to trace your waist as she's suckling, hovering by your ass, and traveling north to knead the supple tissue of your breasts.

And how could you forget about the sheer proximity of it all, even when having sex normally, it didn't feel nearly as intimate or vulnerable as this. Her body would be tightly curled around yours, she couldn't bear to have one meager square inch of her not touching you.

When she drank from your neck, it was bordering on heavenly, you had to be honest with yourself. There was something about the combination of the light headed, dizzying feeling it brought you, her closeness, the licking sensations, and the hungry sounds she produced that all together mixed to form nothing short of a mind blowing, intoxicating concoction.

When you both were feeling it, she'd be able to draw breathy moans to fall from your lips, and would giggle into your skin before sucking harder, leaving bruised marks surrounding the punctures. You read in some folklore that vampires carried a sort of aphrodisiac in their fangs, or was it their saliva? Again, you didn't really know all the details, but the sessions made you both yearn for each other in a way that felt taboo to discuss—midnight feedings often turning into animalistic fucking, sometimes even simultaneously.

Like having Ellie latched onto the side of your neck while she grinds her dripping pussy onto yours, her pleasureful mewls filling your ears, or having her hold your wrist to her mouth while her other hand is pleasuring you into oblivion, prodding against your spongy walls, making your head spin.

The time you spent lost in thought, she had broken the rule of not touching you unless you said so, but all she had done was rest her head on your knee, zoning out, sulking like an injured puppy. Unfortunately for her, you weren't done torturing her just yet. You didn't move her off of you, she was just laying there, grumbling curses under her breath, saying how mean you were, how much she despised you and everything you stood for, although both of you knew the truth—she had said herself, “I've never tasted blood like yours,” and you felt intrinsically bound to her on a subconscious level, these were mere amusements you indulged in, that ended up beneficial for both.

She got her delicious elixir of life, at the cost of you having your way with her for a bit. You hear her sniffle, the little defenseless sound of defeat was able to break your act.

You resume stroking her hair, and she wraps trembling arms around your thigh. “Hmm?” You coo, putting on a sweet facade. “Don't talk to me like that, c'mon man.” She wails, the attempts to regain control over her voice proving unsuccessful.

You took your nails to the newly formed raspberry scabs on top of your bite wounds and picked them off, and she lunges to grab your arm with inhuman reflexes, but once again you emerge on top, having spent so much time memorizing every last one of her behavioral patterns, so much so you knew exactly how she was going to attempt catching you and moved out the way without thinking about it.

“Too slow, you've gotten predictable.” You ridicule her, embellishing your voice with the most fake, sickly sweet tone you could just to irritate her as much as you possibly could. Ellie lays her head on your thigh, sighing. It's like she's given everything up. Her own patience was running out, potentially entering unpredictable territory now.

You squeeze the sides of the hole in your skin to coax a bubble of bright red blood to ooze out, marveling, “It's such a nice color, I see why you like it so much.” You talk to her coolly, ignoring her tearful, yet terrifyingly rage-filled glares, her massive fangs bared as if you were a prey animal she caught herself and was preparing to rip apart.

“Want a taste, Ellie? Have you earned it?” You think out loud, comically tapping your chin to exaggerate the brainstorming act. “Whatever, it's not like I have anything left to say to you.” She sounded heartbroken, you've never seen someone have such sorrow, the sheer misery behind her eyes actually caught you off guard.

"Okay I think you have earned it, just need you to say one more thing.” She nods, a little too quickly, rushing to catch any tears that were planning an escape route down the sides of her pretty face. You cradle her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin, “Aw, baby, don't cry.” This time however, your tone is sincere.

She doesn't wait for your request, and starts all over again, this is getting old. “I promise everything. I'll make you feel so good, I'll give you whatever you want, please …you're too sweet.” She huffs, “Well, except when you're not.”

She continues mumbling, burying her face in the meat of your thigh, occasionally stopping to lovingly peck where she was laying, quiet smooching sounds. That really melted your heart, you were ready to give her what she needs after so much cruelty. This went on much longer than you had planned, but you were having fun with it. So you decided to abandon whatever you would ask of her. But could anyone blame you?

She slowly reaches for your wounded arm, gauging your reactions, like in the situation you were planning to do something to prevent her, but you come up with a better idea. “I'll do you one even better, Els.” The grin that envelops her face could light up a thousand suns, and melt the coldest of souls. Make vampire hunters quit their careers even, that's how adorable she could be, on the occasion.

You lean back to take your shirt off in one swift motion, and lay back on the edge of the bed, tilting your neck to give her access to the sweet pulsating spot, finding the droplet of drool that falls from her agape mouth utterly hilarious. “Go ahead, I've had my fun.” She hesitates. “But our agreement, I don't wanna hurt you.” “Ellie it's fine, unless you don't want t-” “No I do I do, oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so muchhhh.”

Her gratitude is silly, she's straddling you and kissing all over your neck, face, and collarbones with such care, and you inhale sharply once you feel the familiar sensation of her teeth piercing your sensitive skin.

She has one hand on the nape of your neck, holding you close to her so you couldn't move away, and the other one finds your fingers to intertwine with hers, loud gulping noises filling the room as she messily laps up all that flows from you.

Her bony hips are sat atop your pelvis, and soon enough you feel her start absentmindedly rocking back and forth on you, your breath hitching. You hold her waist to ground yourself, and aid her. She's whispering, mostly to herself, “Fuck that's so fucking good, needed this so bad, need you, fuck- shit. Ah, yes.”

The vertiginous feeling swirls in your head and you feel yourself fading, your grip on her sides loosening, but you don't feel one single ounce of panic, because you know she's got you. No matter what, until the end of time. Or at the very least, until the final bells tolled and you were lowered to your eternal resting place six feet underground.

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[brain4stew]

Hey again!! I’m back here with yet another request 😇 also the last one I sent you was SO good 😭🙏 ur headcanons we’re amazing and I personally think the way you described the characters were spot on so kudos to you bro… anyways enough with my little ramble session here’s my next request hehe

May I request 1x4, Mafioso, and John Doe with a GN! Reader who is really, and I mean REALLY downbad and lowkey (highkey) insane for them? Like they would do ANYTHING for them (Basically their like Joe Goldberg for better use of words 😭) and whenever they encounter them they literally just start going nuts with screaming, and jumping up and down happily? Hopefully this makes sense LMAOO

Anywho, thank you again! And remember to keep yourself hydrated and take breaks! Your writing is amazing SKSKSKS

I legit have NO idea who Joe Goldberg is!! 😭😭 But tysm for the compliments!! 🫶🫶 (I will hydrate myself like a cactus atp, DROWN ME IN WATER.)

(As always, I do not entirely know the characters exact personalities and so on, so they might, if not most likely will be OOC!!)

That being said, here are the headcanons/something, under the cut!! ;

(1x1x1x1)

• 1x1x1x1, can hear you from across the damn map. How and why are you so loud?

• He ignores you for now, and goes to kill the other survivors, struggling a bit due to Guest 1337 and Shedletsky.

• When he does kill everyone, (except for Two Time, as he absolutely HATES them with their second life.) he goes to find and kill you.

• Unfortunately for him, he gets creeped out by you, and walks backwards, out of… What is it he’s feeling? Concern, disgust? Whatever he’s feeling, it’s weird.

• He decides to let his minions kill you instead, which… Proves to be difficult…

• When the timer ends, and you’re all sent back to your lobbies, he’s mentally exhausted by you… (Give him a break, he got confused by you.)

• While you, just babble on and on to the survivors about him. (Shedletsky called you a simp, and you might have strangled him a bit…)

• To say that 1x1x1x1 HOPE to not get you against him again, is an understatement.

(Mafioso)

• Mafioso is shocked and surprised by your volume, how and why can he hear you from across the map??

• Whatever the case is, he doesn’t care, as he goes to kill all the survivors.

• When he sees that you got hit by one of his guys, he immediately goes to you, to kill you off.

• However, he was NOT prepared to be greeted by… You being… You.

• He just stands there and stares at you for a while. (You’re strangely amusing to him…)

• After a while however, he goes away from you, and goes to kill the other survivors, as he’s running out of time.

• When the timer ends, everyone gets transported back to their lobbies.

• You are immediately babbling about Mafioso, and how much you love seeing him, and how awesome he is. (As you completely ignore your wounds, that the other survivors are trying to help you with.)

• Mafioso is in shock and confusion about you, how were you that loud, and why did you act the way you did? (He’s not entirely complaining, as you amused him, but still. WOAH.)

• Safe to say that, Mafioso is unsure if he wants to see you again or not.

(John Doe)

• John Doe is SHOCKED and CONFUSED, to say the least at your volume. How the hell did you manage that type of volume??

• He’s even unsure if he should kill you and the other survivors…

• He doesn’t kill them, he goes friendly. He stays by other survivors, and is just, confused as hell.

• When he sees you approach him, he’s even more confused. (Why are you going to him? Why- why are you going on his corrupted trail- NO. GET OFF IT NOW!)

• When the timer ends, and you all get sent back to your lobbies, John Doe is extremely confused, that 1x1x1x1 had to help him with his confusion.

• You, of course, are just babbling about him in the survivor lobby, as the survivors try and get the corruption off of you, and heal you.

• John Doe, too is confused if he wants to see you again or not. You made him go friendly after all, can you blame him for being confused?

[kenozumin]

what's the kindest way to say: you took away my friend, my buddy?

(long animatic ramble under the cut :o)

okay. so, this was largely fanon and self-indulgent project, partially because i felt like i didn't make many things solely for myself.

the animatic revolves around two characters, being jonnaay and pili (mocha, pili2, and ace), with the central idea revolving around jonnaay sort of searching (?) for the remnants of mocha in the iterations afterwards.

i've grown to become quite attached to their dynamic, even if there isn't much of them, mostly because of the idea around a successor (jonnaay) who was meant to take up the role of their predecessor (mocha) but failed, as well as their several other similarities and differences regarding their mindset around killing, their faction, etc.

the lyrics are kind of used as this ironic instrument, because the words describe an attempt at being "soft" or "kind" when mocha and jonnaay are both characters that would largely be described as antonyms to both of those ideas.

the idea of "taking away" his friend (mocha) differs from one iteration to the next: in the first segment, it is clown who literally took mocha away, but in the second, it is pili2 who took mocha away as in, taking mocha's place instead. there was also the deliberate choice to show jonnaay glancing from afar at pili2 surrounded by people (end fight when pili2 first showed up), kinda to set an impression that this isn't the same person as before.

ace was the more interesting of the three. ace, because they have memories of both of the previous iterations, kinda exists as someone giving jonnaay his closure on where his friend had departed to, but jonnaay is still shown being reserved because this still isn't his friend.

in this way, the "taking away" also coincides with the idea of iterations like pili2 and ace "taking up" mocha's role but also taking up the space for mocha's memory (ie mocha's impact/legacy largely disappearing from the world other than the memories they has left behind for people)

the animatic concludes with jonnaay sitting under a tree, huddled in on himself, a reference to how bad had eaten mocha's body and buried the rest under a tree, being then the closest thing mocha got to a grave (shout out to @siren-of-fire for talking about this, otherwise i wouldn't have know hehe). whether this is the tree mocha's body is under is for viewer interpretation, but it is meant to be a sort of scene where jonnaay trying to be as, in a way, physically close to mocha as he can, a depiction of him stubbornly holding onto mocha's memory and refusing to move on.

a lot of this is headcanon, if not just outright fanon, but the joys of liking a character like jonnaay is that there's such little actual lore equivalent content that i can just !!! interpret things however i please !!!! and i think it's a lot more fun to think about the "what if"s and alternate scenarios to how things could have gone, especially in a story perspective. plus !! i made this for myself, so lowk who gaf if its a teeny bit ooc. oki ramble over i think, keno out

[taltalily]

Screenshot! ◇ sticksona moots meetup in Ibis :D

Tumblr probably ate the quality so uh fullscreen. pls. Yeah thanks :,3

Also apologies to all the mooties i forgot/ didnt have power to draw/ dont have sticksonas!! If not in this drawing, you are included in my heart. <3

RAMBLE & ALTERNATES UNDER THE CUT!! WUHOOOO

@asteroid-fruitcup GET HIT WITH THE INITIAL LETTER AHOGE BEAM!! YOU GET AN A SHAPED AHOGE!! FOR 'ASTEROID'!!!💥💥🔥🔥💥🔥🅰️🔥(i changed it a bit from ur original design ehe ooppps this was too perfect i couldnt resist. DONT SHAKE ME IN THE TUPPERWARE FOR THIS) and ALSO i drew your kandi braclets... but forgor to color them... im so sorry i wanted them to be rainbow but i forgot and now i already exported it 😔... such is life... 😔😔🔥🔥💥🌈 -

This drawing was a really fun practice in perspectiveeee and anatomyyyy n things!! Im aware that most of yall probbs dont look like that irl, but uhhh this is about our SONAS, obv idk what yall look like irl lol. Though i was trynna sort of make em vaugley resamble genders n things but tbh idk, i just had fun w that :)

@tiny-creaturr TINY CREATURRRR. TINYYY EYYY HOW R U. I rlly rlly hope i did ur sona justice here... ehe i dunno i got evryones colors from pics of their sonas. Your's is from the one card thing of darkie's Bday!! Jus a fun fact. :). I made you be EXTRA CHAOTIC YEAHBH 💥💥💥💥‼️‼️ and also GREEN! GREEIE! idk what im saying atp uhhhh hope u like it overallll :))))

OOH AND, NO BLUR VERSION!!!! HERE IT IS:::

@thechos3n1 hiii. YOU'RE IN THIS BC OFC YOU ARE >:DDD I WITNESSED THE CREATION OF UR SONA YOU'RE OBLIGATORY EHEHEHEE :33 i hope u like it toooo you're giving me picture horns xD ✌️ cuz our sonas r practically besties in their loreeee so it was fitting to draw u there! Also ur one of my bestiest online besties in the real trust!!!

Btw here's the non-angled versions, so stylish!:

And of course, my newest mutual, the art request vicsec shipper and tiny tsc collector themself, @mariako-750! FUN FACT, you're actaully the reason i started this drawing in the first place!!! I wanted to make dope fanart for your sona :3c its was GONNA originally look like THIS:

Pretty cool, but a lil bit empty... and THEN i rememberd darkie's and asteroid and creaturr's sonas too! N there was space at the table soo YEAH i added them!! N it was 100% for the better hehe!! BuT YEAH!! THIS IS A GIFT! FOR U AND FOR EVERYONE ELSE HERE!!! I appreciate you all lots <3 (:

Also, i drew EVERY SINGLE ONE HERE even UNDERNEATH what is showing in the final. This took effort. APPRECIATE IT

And here's what happens when u just export the full thing normally as a jpeg instrad of taking a screenshot:

It kinda looses the checkerboaed pattern ): but uh yeah! Thats the drawing!! :3 i had a lot of fun w this and dont look at the flaws i was NOT supposed to put this much effort in this!! I get carried away by art too easily apparantly xDD.

HAVE A GOOD DAYYY! OR IM SHAKING YALL IN TUPPERWARE! ALL TOGETHER IN THE TUPPERWARE CONTAINER MUAHAHHAAA /silly /J!! Exploads!.

[kalied0skull]

“I feel silly...”

“So?! You look gorgeous!”

“You really think so?”

“I know so, my love.”

now playing : Hey Lover — The Daughters of Eve ♪

little voice in my brain said T4T sandypop, and i sighed and got right to work...

★ ramble under the cut !

apparently I've done every sort of sandy drawing but her actual design that i have for her like by herself, and I'm slightly content with that

but ignoring canon sandy LOOK AT HIM!!! :,D AND LOOK AT SODA!

i dunno where this idea came from quite frankly, i read transfemme soda somewhere on my dashboard and immediately got pulled into the darkness by this shadowy hand who whispered "T4T SANDYPOP..." in my ear and i nodded and yessed incessantly

they're so :( i really do love sandypop so much

in my eyes t4t sandypop do not change their names, but sandy MIGHT... idk why i get the vibes she'd change it to like, Anton. a fun little A name, maybe even Andy... (get it hehe)

Soda though, psht, how could she ever disrespect her father's creativity? she's SODAPOP. that's my GIRL. god i love them so much

i post too much stevepop, sometimes i just gotta spin around and pull out a random whammy. and today... it was sandy & soda :3 (or in this case, ANDY and soda. hehehe)

sorry i keep deadnaming them i promise it's just for familiarity /silly

for this scene, I don't know WHY they're shirtless. but i like to imagine andy gives soda his bras and dresses, and soda gives andy her boxers and baggy jeans. they're little traders. it works out well because they're similar in weight, just a bit... short / tall. hehe.

they're so adorable i love them truly :(

my sandy / andy design is SO out there compared to the other manys i see of them. but i love my baby, i do. i plan to draw the outsiders girls more often soon in the near future... i have plans...

anyways I'm on the way to the racetrack ! wish me luck !!! or don't!!! I'll probably suck anyways depending on how dumb my kart is tonight !! AHHHH

[ellovett]

. CLASS OF CLASSICS GODIVA GOODFAIRY

i rlly wanna thank all the support for my eah oc Godiva, 🥹🥹 didn't think i was gonna get any traction on that post. m so happy u guys like her

ill make more content of her in current EAH timeline but i did draw Godiva from when she was a student!!! or more like. Class of Classics Godiva.. hehe, n if u have any questions for her my askbox ks always open

i have ramblings under the cut

Godiva as a student

. U can say Godiva's in that fine line between royal n rebel if you inserted 2nd gens logic into it. She had no issues following her destiny and is proud of her lineage, but understands why some of her schoolmates may not be so keen on theirs. She always thought it was a bit of an unfair system, if you were born into a bad fate then it was sealed, she kinda empathized with that.

. In personality Godiva's kind and altruistic, fusses over her friends in a motherly way, is firm in a motherly way too. She knew her limits as a spellcaster and wasn't a doormat.

. While her lineage mostly consisted of glamour spell casters, Godiva had the biggest ambition to do something more with her magic, something less superficial and more powerful than what it says in her destiny. Something that lasted past midnight. To be a powerful and respected fairy mage, to veer Ever After towards good. it's like her tiny little rebellion, to not only be the Fairy Godmother, but to be something more. And that power and scholarly ambitions culminate when she ultimately casts Evil Queen into the mirror realm with her own spell.

. In school her roommate was the Dark Fairy, who swears she dislikes Godiva and sees her as beneath, saw her as competition. But Godiva always saw them as friendly, always treated the Dark Fairy nicely even though she was throwing jabs at her. I think at some point the Dark Fairy secretly commended her for her ambition, but of COURSE she would never tell her that. (Rumour has it the two were a.. very brief item. VERY brief..

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 47-52 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Time to recap the first proper wolgraha miniarc. See what you might’ve missed, or simply enjoy the extra content in form of my rambling.

47 stands out as a bit disconnected, floaty, introspective episode fully focusing on Exarch’s pov. I’ve scattered some breadcrumbs for him throughout the entire comic, time to pick those up. He may be an oblivious fool in certain moments, but I believe he wouldn’t keep insisting on staying deaf and blind when evidence’s shoved in his face. So, this moment of recollection and rethinking marks the start of the canon divergence, all of his future actions are colored by this.

Vivi has a dire effect on some people even without trying to manipulate them.

The composition forms a star here :3c

This panel should make their likeness even more obvious, they’re mirror reflections, albeit deliciously twisted ones. Also, the V sign is literally something that Vivi. Just. Does.

Exarch's heard from Vivi himself that they might be the same, Urianger literally tells him to go to a mirror and ponder, but when he does, and tries to look a bit more like he imagines Vivi, he can't stand what he sees in the mirror. They still aren't the same in his heart of hearts, even if reality itself tries to prove otherwise.

Hidden Angst Time! I can only hope that most readers are familiar with the flashback bubbles by now, and that this panel reads as it should: Feo Ul embraces Exarch while pointing out that they’re also being ostracized by their kind. Though the ultimate fae wisdom lies in accepting something the way it is, and just not caring too much.

More under the cut~ 

*rewinds all the way back to episode 1* hehe

“Does a hero have to be happy about his job” is one of my personal fav lines so far, I think it hits hard, pointing not only at Vivi, but at Exarch as well, and the visual supports it. I think this encapsulates Exarch’s ideology.

Exarch’s GASP could be interpreted as saying GASP out loud, which only makes it funnier.

Vivi carefully plans his entrance in order to make the atmosphere less formal. Approaching normally just wouldn’t do it. Also he just feels relaxed and safe to be silly. Remember how lowkey he was since his arrival to the First? His behavior all but contradicted what I said and showed about him in the ARR arc and outside of the comic.

Well, that’s in the past now. He’s finished assessing the situation and concluded that it’s okay to be more himself.

Feo Ul's upset that Exarch used his “radar” to detect Vivi’s ambush while they’d just used a similar ability to make sure that no emet-selchs are around.

If you catch a flirty vibe from Vivi in this episode, you're correct.

Vivi when he's remotely interested in a man:

My flavor of lampshading the obvious exposition dump. Oh Exarch, you asked for this, no take-backsies.

Another few hard-hitting questions from Exarch. It's easy to gloss over these, but if you slow down and think, it's decent angst material. Has anyone ever been concerned about Vivi's feelings, or was it more convenient to look away, even if intently, even if both sides knew they're better off not talking about that, for there's indeed no wol replacement. What good does acknowledging the situation if you can’t change it.

This's Vivi's memory, thus he appears small against the looming forms of the world leaders. Rigid, formal, impersonal. Raha's memories of the Ironworks seem to have a different vibe, despite all the parallels of the duty imposed by the world on one special guy. Also yeah I do wanna make my own version of the 8UC timeline and characters someday, for now these are just random characters that I consider as placeholders. And the dunmeshi cameo x’D

Yes, he mocks the people that he's saved. He's VERY frustrated with his job.

I offer you a fun game: spot all the mannerisms that make Vivi and Emet so alike. I genuinely never thought about this until this year, while this scene's pretty damn old, i.e. Vivi's always been like this, it precedes my Emet brainrot.

I swear that this line also was there before my Emet brainrot, but now it makes for a hilarious kind of foreshadowing.

You could already tell how "fit" he is for solving trolley problems.

This’s his “oops I talked too much shit” face.

The way Exarch just quietly TURNS and LOOKS at Vivi cracks me up. Don't undermine the tone with random jokes, dammit. But is this random? I’ve already analyzed this moment somewhere but for the sake of keeping important things in one place: they wrestle for control here. Exarch winds up for something serious, while Vivi wants to steer the convo towards more casual. It does somewhat lower the tension, though Exarch doesn’t relinquish his lead in the convo.

This doesn’t save him from becoming Frank forever from here on.

This miniarc’s rich with raw, hard-hitting words, so I’ll bring this up again.

We’re finally getting the explanation and context for a lot of previous episodes:

And the following episodes only help driving this point home. Vivi already sees the First as a viable escape from the Source with all of its shitty people and endless problems.

"This's why I... enjoy my time away from the Source": even at this seemingly high level of trust between them Vivi won't openly tell Exarch about his plans to stay here, a variable he doesn't want to become a risk.

Yes, he does an entirely calculated and strategic flop. A literal thirst trap.

Meme provided by my discord server:

Vivi casts provoke, it's..... not effective

^ This’s one of my personal fav exarchs I’ve ever drawn DADDY PLS

A panel that everyone loved to bits :>

I pair angst with other flavors to make it fun and non-repetitive. It's not "boohoo I can never kiss my hero, the world will end if I do, I'm so aggravated with myself", it's the hooded Exarch (duty) being mad at the unhooded Exarch (human), and delivering the same notion in a fun exchange. You can't help but laugh at the comical chibi violence, at the same time you acknowledge that it's a pretty fucked up act of suppressing one's innate human desires.

It's not a date, they just sit and talk <- the water in which Exarch is being slowly boiled.

I rarely talk about the visuals, but here I intended to make it look like a magical moment frozen in time. It's immersive, whimsical, full of color and movement. Despite the perceived warmth, the composition splits them apart, they're alone together. It’s still Raha’s pov, Vivi doesn’t seem to have any fond memories of the Source at all, we only hear about the past from his current jaded self.

An in-universe acknowledgment of the ARR arc lasting only 11 episodes x’D Though it’s all by design, it was meaningful only to Raha, while being a forgettable blip in time for Vivi.

Episode 52 opens with.... *drumroll*

NIP SLIP

I lovingly rendered that nip and I’ll make you look at it.

Ibuprofen meme would be the first thing that comes to mind, but consider the better/worse caption: "come to daddy". In all seriousness though, it’s a cool panel that I wanted to appreciate again. This IS Vivi’s pov.

The grimy beaten up Vivi creates questions that are answered in episode 53, which is yet to be released publicly at the moment of writing this. Some episodes, like 52-53 and 42-43, come in pairs that only make sense together due to the non-linear storytelling.

Yes this’s Aymeric, no I won’t say anything else :’> One thing that’s worth noting is the face Vivi makes here. And the distant, emotionless tone with which he recalls the moment of his own near-death.

Lemme spell it out even more plainly: Vivi romanticizes the moment he almost died. Exarch just happened to be present in that moment, and Vivi latched on to him as someone who would grant him escape, freedom, peace.

“A kindly wizard from fairytales”. I regret to inform you that we have two delusional fucks on our hands. Both see each other as some kinda dreamt up, idealized, mythical figures.

This miniarc isn’t over yet, but I’m wrapping up the recap here. Thanks for reading till the end~

[assassin-artist]

I love Eleanor!

I'm really curious to know (everything) how Cecil feels about the daddy issues she's working through. I mean he (and whoever in the GDA draws up reports about the Greyson family mental states) has to be clocking them from a mile away. Because honestly who wouldn't be messed up after having Nolan as a father.

Does Cecil feel like there's some manipulation going on? Yes he's genuinely there in his role as mentor/boss, but does he also feel like an ass sometimes when he's reminded that she's just a kid seeking validation from an older male authority figure? (Not that that's Eleanor's main motivation in being a super hero by any means).

I don't think he'd be outright manipulative. I think he genuinely cares for people like when he tries to comfort Mark and Debbie etc, but it's probably part of a contingency plan of his if need be? I could see a desperate Cecil/GDA trying to make her more codependent as a means to control her. (Maybe they tried something like that in your bad end au)

Honestly I just need to know how he feels about her GDA inspired suit. Proud dad vibes? Relief that one of the twins is still willing to work with him? Mild embarrassment? Completely oblivious? Does Donald clock the resemblance first and tease him about it lol

Does Mercy ever look back on that suit design in the future and feel a bit embarrassed (like when you look back at your previous style that was influenced by friends or a celebrity and cringe?). Since it would also be symbolic of when she and Mark were having their fight over their different viewpoints.

Does she always keep the new colour pallet?

Anyways thanks for sharing your OC!

Cecil when Mercy shows up in his colors after splitting up with her brother. Thank you for this ask, I love rambling about Cecil especially, hehe... Looong rambles below the cut!

firstly, you're absolutely right that her family issues (daddy issues especially) is a well known topic in the GDA by the time she's in her 3rd suit. In fact, I think it would have been obvious from the day Nolan first left earth. I think Cecil is aware of the mental states of all of his top agents, he's definitely trying his best to keep tabs on them with on-site psychologists and such - but I think he'd have an extra careful eye out on the Graysons. He already states several times in the show that Mark is "the strongest hero we have on Earth", which is what makes him so desperate to keep Invincible in his pocket/under his control, and in the world where Mercy exists, she's stronger than Invincible by season 3 as well. So he's keeping a closer tab on Mercy than he does any of his other heroes, regardless of whether she would approve of how closely he's watching her.

Largely I think he'd feel some compassion for her about it - he has a heart, after all, even if it tends to get buried underneath his stern exterior and the things he's been forced to do over the years. She was only a kid when they met, and even though it's been a little over two years by season 3 and she's a legal adult, of course he's still gonna look at her as a kid. I think he feels a strong sense of "I need to look after her", not only because of her young age, but also because all the shit that went wrong in her life started after she started working for him. Maybe he feels like her dad's actions and the trauma it left her with is possibly indirectly his fault - but he definitely feels like Mercy and Invincible splitting apart is his own fault. He doesn't regret it because he's always going to do what he thinks is necessary for the good of the world, but he does still feel a bit guilty about how it tore apart this family that was working for him.

But there's also this idea I had that if Cecil visited Mark/Debbie's house some time after Mercy moved out but before the big falling out with Invincible and the GDA, Debbie absolutely would have scolded him and then talked his ear off about making sure Eleanor was well taken care of. Not just financially, as he tries to assure Mrs. Grayson - make sure she's eating properly, getting enough sleep, don't let her drink so many energy drinks before a mission like she does when there's an exam coming up. Debbie can clearly tell that Ellie is pulling away from her out of grief and trauma, and although it hurts her to not be there for her daughter like she wishes she could, she knows better than to try to force her way back into her life. So instead she goes to the person that she knows Ellie will listen to, and makes sure he has a good idea of what her daughter needs. So Cecil feels another sense of "I need to look out for this kid" because Debbie personally asked him to as well.

"Does Cecil feel like there's some manipulation going on?" Oh, absolutely there is, and he's aware of it. I don't think he's a cruel man by any means, I think he'd prefer it if people worked for him out of their own willingness and not for any other external reasons - but with the Grayson twins, he can't take that risk. They're too strong. He saw how one Viltrumite could ruin a major city and wrack up a death toll of, what, over two thousand lives and many thousand more injured in just a few hours? And later learning that more Viltrumites are going to come to Earth for a hostile takeover? Yeah, he wants to be nice - but now is not the time for niceness if it might sacrifice having the most powerful pawn on his payroll.

His compassion in daily conversations is real - him asking her if she's doing alright and if she' ever needs to talk's had enough to eat today - but his compassion when it comes to making decisions about her life is calculated. Paying for her utilities so she feels like she owes him, offering to take care of her family despite being attacked by two members of it so she will think of him as her best supporter in times of need... but most of all, subtly reminding her of the damage caused by her father and brother. Not in a 'look at what your family did' to make her feel guilty kind of way, but more of a 'look at what you're capable of' way. So even she thinks she needs someone to make the tough decisions for her - so she never feels tempted to pull away like Invincible did.

He's troubled by her mental state partially because he cares about her as an individual, but also because that means there's a crack in a very dangerously powerful weapon. He's glad for her seeking validation from an older male figure because it means she looks up to him, listens to his advice. It means he's still got her where he needs her to be.

He does genuinely care for people, like you said. I don't think Cecil would be Director of the GDA if it weren't for his overwhelming love for humanity and the planet they live on - it's not just self interest because he lives there, too, it's because his heart aches for the pain that others go through. Him keeping Mercy by his side by whatever means necessary - well timed compassion, a shoulder to lean on, financial compensation, etc - is good for both of them. He needs her strength and durability, and she needs a strong foundation to lean on in her darker moments.

And now, finally "I just need to know how he feels about her GDA inspired suit". My first thought was that, honestly, I don't think he would have ever made the connection lol. I mean, he sees the new look, but he never stops to think "this was directly inspired by me specifically". I think he'd just perk up one eyebrow and say something about how she's lost her bright colors in the new look. Donald absolutely clocks the resemblance, though - that man is specially trained to spot anything vaguely Cecil-looking lmfao. I think if he ever brought it up, Cecil would just go, "What? No, it's not based off of me. There's a ton of navy blue suits in the GDA, you don't know it's based off of me. I mean... ah, hell, it's based off of me.." I think he'd feel a little bit embarrassed about it in the beginning, like when you realize someone kind of idolizes you and you think 'why would you look up to me of all people', but he'd keep it under wraps pretty well. Kind of think it's sweet, also kind of thinks it's another good sign of her attachment to the GDA.

I don't think she will always keeps the new suit design. Mercy and Invincible are meant to be in parallel to each other - not exactly the same, but when one goes through a major change, so does the other. She got her new suit roughly at the same time Mark got his new suit, and both of them changed because of their growing and shifting viewpoints around morality. The palette itself, though... hrm, I'll have to think about that. I can see her leaving the palette behind to have a fresh start and branching out eventually, but I can also see her wanting to keep it because the GDA, and Cecil specifically, are such big parts of her formative years and helped develop her worldviews a lot as a teen/going into adulthood.

I'm not entirely sure how future Mercy would look back on her older design, since I make her story as we go along with the show and comics. So the only answer I have for now is that she'd probably look back at the suit and frown because that was the time where her and Mark split apart. How much she either cringes or feels pain about that memory depends on whether the two of them ever reconcile or if it just gets worse from there on out... We'll see (:

Thank you for the ask!! I love talking about Cecil lol

[gloomyshoujo]

ACCOMPANYING DOODLE COMIC CAN BE FOUND HERE!!

Day 9 for huevember~

Decided to draw Jetko again, this time for a very specific AU I've been tweaking over like a feral animal lol. (heavy and I mean heavy rambling under the cut!)

Urk yea, so I worked my butt off of this one! I really pushed myself with the anatomy, since I wanted it to have a bit of sex appeal ngl lol (also, ya know, wanting to get better at drawing blah blah). I don't think I've ever looked at so many refs at once tho holy shit...

I also tried my best to make it look cool and graphical~ It was fun and fucking brutal I think I went through 30+ different variants, no joke LOL. Shoutout to my bestie for all the help and listening to me ramble like a madman. Title from this song: Renegade Master by Wildchild

OKAY SO PLEASE LET ME BE A LOSER

So not sure how to describe this AU, other than it being sort of a silly master thief mixed with action, romance/smut, drama, angst, revenge and conspiracy. I was definitely inspired by a few anime's, but Lupin iii & Cowboy Bebop were the biggest inspos for sure lol.

Not sure of the timeline, but maybe in the 90s? They're also aged up, Jet is about 31yo, and Zuko 23 maybe? YES there's a bit of an age gap as a treat for me. <333

Both of them served in the military, but at different times and units, so they never met before.

Jet joined the army at 18 to basically avoid homelessness, since he was orphaned and didn't have many options. He did, however, want to set up a fund for 'Bee and Longshot while he worked there. I'm still unsure about why he'd leave, but was thinking he got injured (like in S2), and was discharged (I'm also thinkin' toxic situation-ship with Lu Ten? *looming music* the drama!!). Or maybe he was about to uncover something big by mistake, so they accused him of stuff he didn't do, which had him terminated from the military. Or a combo of the 2??

But whoops, also turns out his fund he was putting aside was stolen/was being lied too, and he, 'Bee and Longshot had nothing left to their names. And because governments suck, he wasn't getting his benefits or barely got enough (or if he was terminated, then he'd get nothing).

This obviously left him feeling pissed and helpless. He tried getting normal work, but he didn't have much luck; which eventually led him to robbing a bank out of desperation (+an old military friend reached out to ask for help with the robbery), using his skills he's learned over his life (maybe at the time, he pretended to date Katara as she worked there to get intel? More drama~ Tho he did regret that part;;;). After that first theft, he not only got money for him and the others, but got a huge thrill from it. Since then, he strived to become the worlds greatest thief! He goes after money, jewels, fine art; whatever gives him a challenge (and a good paycut hehe)~

Zuko, like Jet, joined the military as soon as he turned 18; but it was done to get away from his fathers abuse and influence. He thought Ozai had no connections to the military, and he'd be safe to have his own career/life there for a while. (Also thinking Iroh is not in the picture. Either dead or disappeared)

Unfortunately, his father was far more powerful and corrupt than he thought he was. Not entirely sure why again, but thinking this time around, Zuko did uncover something big going on (but only a small glimpse of it). His father then ordered an assassination against Zuko and his unit, to make it look like an accident/war mission gone wrong (also, think 41st division here; except Zuko was in said division).

In an instant, he lost his comrades, all of them killed off because of Ozai. Unfortunately for Ozai, Zuko did survive, but no one knew of that, and thought he was dead/completely burnt away from the blast (also maybe that's how he gets the scar on his face OR chest?? idk yet).

Zuko did manage to run away and hide somewhere, finding random help and took almost a year to recover. During that time, he had a lot of time to think about it, and decided he'd get revenge against his father.

But it wouldn't be an easy feat. Reporting Ozai never did anything for him (the few times he tried when he was younger). He thought simply killing him would suffice, but he wanted Ozai to slowly lose everything. His influence, connections, money, power, etc. He wanted him to suffer, and lose the things he clearly cared more than anything in the world, even his own family.

So after the incident, he took time to train, get more intel, took mercenary jobs so he could build up his own network/gain experience, etc etc. until he eventually felt ready to begin his slow act of revenge; which would entail him starting from the bottom up, taking apart Ozai's regime if you will, by stealing/destroying/killing his connections/assets/companies/etc etc. if that makes sense?

ANYWAYS. Queue in Jetko!

The first time Jet meets Zuko, it's in the middle of a theft; it was night time, Zuko illuminated by the full moon, sirens going off in the background, as Zuko is holding the very thing he was going to steal. Zuko slowly turns to look at him, with nothing but contempt in his eyes. And Jet? INSTANTLY fell in love.

AHAHA in this AU, Jet is absolutely whippeddddd for Zuko. He thinks he's the most handsome, beautiful, badass person he's ever laid eyes on. Jet is convinced Zuko stole his heart, but he doesn't mind.;-) (yes he's a SAP)

Zuko doesn't care for Jet (or anyone for that matter). He's been pretty much alone for years now, only concentrating on his revenge. But Jet seems to pop up here and there, always in the middle of a robbery or whatever else. He comes to learn Jet is the self-proclaimed "worlds greatest thief", which he doesn't care for.

And yet, Jet always seems eager to speak to him, even helping or saving him sometimes. He doesn't get it, and he wonders if the guy was hired by his father. Yet, Jet manages to wiggle his way in Zuko's heart; which scares him, because he doesn't want to forget his anger and hatred.

But he can't help but be pulled in Jet's antics and chaotic heists, from time to time.

I don't think Jet would care if Zuko was the son of Ozai, in this AU. I'd imagine he'd be more angry about what Ozai has done to Zuko (and others) than Zuko's blood. Also, while Jet is definitely whipped, he does grow real feelings for Zuko the more they interact. He enjoys discovering small aspects about him, or the rare times he smirks or chuckles. But he can see there's a lot of hurt in Zuko, and is worried about him; he really wants him to have fun and be happy (hence why he ropes Zuko into his antics/thefts at times, just to see Zuko loosen up a bit).

As for the plot, AHAHA idk yet. Definitely some conspiracies going on, maybe some classic world domination? Idk. But everything is connected in some ways; even the random fine art pieces Jet would steal, would eventually connect to something bigger. Lots of action too and near death scenes aha. Also, Jets and Zukos pasts and presents would come to intertwine at some point. I'm thinking Lu Ten is one nasty villain too, which would add for some delicious drama~

Unto the nsfw aspect LOL (please respect the honour system and only read if you're 18+ pwease T^T)

So in ALL my headcanons/AU's, Jet/Zuko are switches. But I have SUCH a thing for younger men topping older men AHA (also....Jet is hairy too YIPPEE!). So the first time they even kiss, it's Zuko that pulls the shots. I'd imagine Jet would be flirting with Zuko again, and Zuko feeling both fed up but also interested, would grab him by the collar and give Jet a deep kiss; shocking Jet into silence. He'd just smirk, knowing he won, while Jet's brain short circuits lol. OR their first kiss is Zuko slipping Jet some important info through a chip/pill, which does surprise Jet, but he's eager to play the make-out part.;-)

Not even sure how they'd finally give in and fuck lmfao. But Zuko would, again, call the shots the first time; which does things to Jets brain because he's never been topped by a younger guy (he's veryyy into it tho). At some point, Zuko would allow Jet to top him during an emotional moment, I would imagine aha.

Oh also, for this scene in particular.....idk. I have a real fetish for cool looking dudes in cool outfits and looking all badass and homoerotic LMFAOOOOO. I do think it displays their dynamic in this AU pretty good. Jet being smitten/whipped and flirting/teasing, knowing full well he's got Zuko's attention; while Zuko seems in control/indifferent and closed off, but he can't help but be pulled in by Jet. (also I just wanted to draw something ~cool~)

As for the text, I was listening to music and it popped up LOL. Idk, I sometimes let whatever I'm listening too atm dictate stuff for me, especially titles because I suck with those. As for the font choice, I wanted a serif font to make it look a bit more old school, and hopefully jazzy. But I also wanted it edgy, something you could either see on a jazz album or 90s rave/techno/house album.xD (Since I was inspired by both genera's lol) It WAS really hard choosing the right font. Several looked great, one in particular I almost went with, but it felt too modern imo. I also knew I wanted it to be red, but it often took attention away from Jet/Zuko. So I tried my best to use the font to my advantage, and have the viewers eyes automatically go towards their faces by making it more saturated in that spot, like a light source? I also did trace out the font like a loser so it would have a hand-drawn texture.:-V

Also I kinda drew Jet more beefy than I usually imagine him by accident? But I didn't wanna change it bc.....his tits came out real good lol. I def need to draw more for this AU. And I hope Zuko's ass also came out good because god did I struggle.

OKAY SORRY FOR BEING A LOSER IN PUBLIC I'LL SHUT UP NOW LMFAOOOO.

[miyaagis]

hiii !! just read your clan head!gojo fic, and i am OBSESSED ! ( any fic dealing with clan politics or conflicts in jjk is something i will always eat up anytime (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘) )

BUTTT speaking of clan politics ( especially the with heirs question 👀 ) how would the dynamic work between y/n’s son and the mistress’s soon-to-be child? would there be any tension as they grow up together as they are both heir to the gojo clan? i can see y/n grooming her son to be considered as the only “rightful heir” ( which would also further establish her as the rightful gojo matriarch and secure their places in the gojo family considering clan politics/shifting alliances and all that stuff. this is probably a mischaracterization though, i apologize hehe. i just think it would be interesting to imagine y/n be a bit cunning and selfish in focusing more on her own self interest since she sees the mistress’s child as a threat to her place as gojo’s proper wife )

or would gojo tend to favor one over the other 👀? and how would both his mistress and y/n react to that? i would imagine that would probably create more tension and resentment between y/n and the mistress’s already rocky “relationship” ( if you can even call it that ) regarding their places as the mothers of the gojo heirs

i can just imagine y/n’s son being all excited after the news of getting a younger sibling but being confused about why exactly his mom doesn’t seem to share the same excitement, and why his parents seem to be so distant when they were previously so much more loving with each other. but most importantly, being confused about why his sibling is coming from someone that’s not his mom ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

LONGGG ASK, I KNOWWW but i am SUPER excited to see more of what you do with this series and to read more of what you write!! these are just some interesting thoughts that came into mind after reading your fic ( and i apologize for getting carried away with my delulu rambling LOL )!! but overall, i am super excited to see what more you do with this series no matter where it goes, this concept is super interesting to me and i can’t wait to see what else you do with it!! ( and your other writing as well!) please keep up the good work, i can’t wait to read more!! (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

hello ! omg a long askkkk ♡ everything is answered under the cut but I appreciate your eagerness and excitement over this au ! i know i said there wouldn't be a part 2, and i stand by it, but there is something in the works ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

okay, so, firstly—as we could see in the fic—y/n didn't want the mistress anywhere near her and her family, so she demanded satoru to keep them away from the main estate (at least). the clan's estate is pretty big, with many branch households outside the main house, and one of those would be reserved for the mistress and her kid. i do believe there could be a conflict there because the mistress's clan would demand satoru to have her live in the main house. otherwise, she should go back to living in her clan's estate. (she ends up going back to her clan's hehe)

now, about the dynamic between both kids. y/n originally didn't want to tell her son about their half-sibling. it was satoru who deemed it important for him to know so he could start to understand some of the clan's dynamics. but of course that a 3-year-old kid doesn't understand what's really going on.

also, there would be minimal to no contact between the two kids. they know about each other's existence, though. the mistress's kid is most likely to be brought up to be hostile towards y/n's son, her resentment for always being second-best right behind y/n is something that she'll always live with (remember that the deal between the clans is a backup heir in exchange of the political contacts, never marriage). so, even if the mistress "fights" for her kid to have an important role in the gojo clan, y/n would be there to remind satoru that their son always goes first. let's say the mistress's kid is a girl, that would make her satoru's first daughter, right? still, satoru would never give her a powerful position.

regarding her son's safety, y/n would make sure his life and well-being are a priority to the gojo clan, afraid that the mistress's or her clan would try to harm him. but honestly, i don't see it happening because the mistress is way more submissive than y/n when it comes to obeying satoru. plus, there would be an increase in the security and access to the main estate, all done to protect y/n, satoru, and their son.

lastly, their marriage. yes, it became rocky. y/n felt deeply hurt by satoru's decision to follow through the clan elders' advice of having a backup heir. there are bad days where she puts distance between them. there are good days where she chooses to forget and just enjoy her husband's affection. it was draining at first, but she's made her peace with it, and satoru has learned to reassure his wife of his love each and every single day. he's head over heels in love with her, so he tends to favor his son.

also, y/n and satoru end up having another baby, a girl. u know what that means, right? (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

[alan-without-the-an]

(I wanted to join in @quartztwst's No Yan Sim AU!! The idea's hilarious and ridiculous /pos and I saw an opportunity to draw Alan lookin' like a jock hehe)

Alan is the stereotypically cold, ruthless jock of the school. A loner whose only trusted companion is their own self and has no interest in making friends. They're silent, hostile and completely unapproachable... ...Right?

Image w/ just the art + additional info under the cut :3

General personality:-

Their quiet demeanour comes from their softspoken and reserved nature. More often than not, they can be found with their head in the clouds thinking about something... like cats! They can be awkward and they never make the first move to socialise, but they're more than happy to engage in conversation with someone!

They're TERRIBLE at photography and at handling a camera in general... that and the long, rambly nature of the club discussions completely demotivate them from participating.

(They're too awkward to say something about leaving to the other members however, so they're honestly just waiting for the day they get kicked out.)

They have insanely good memory despite the terrible attention span, however. They're on top of all of their sports meetings, knows exactly what classes they have to walk on autopilot to, and during quiet times when noone is around and they don't have anyone to socialise with, they pull out their sketchbook and draw the first thing that comes to their mind.

When sneaking a peek, the drawings may incite a bit of deja vu... doesn't this sketch look awfully familiar to something Quartz did earlier today...?

Game mechanics:-

Sometimes, subconciously, Alan draws things they remember seeing but didn't quite process due to how 'not present in the real world' they are. They might not even realise what they're drawing is from memory. If someone else finds this, it could potentially lead to a certain school detective connecting the dots. (Hippity hoppity, these pages are now my property)

When they're alone and not busy talking, Quartz can ask them to do 1v1 practice sessions with her! Having these practice sessions can increase her strength and some of her abilities (then maybe one day she can take on the tweels... and Shuu).

When they aren't loitering around or drawing, their next activity of choice is to bring out some cat kibble and go around the school in search of cats. Perhaps Quartz could ask her about these cat hangout spots or ask for some kibble to lure in some cats... which then lure in a wild Idia. (Could be used for distraction purposes or to take photos of him?)

Personal items:-

Flip phone: Technology is hard to figure out and what they've got still works! No point in fixing what ain't broke.

Satchel: Trusty ol' bag of holding! Its contents fluctuate often, but whatever's inside is usually necessary for the day. Losing this will result in quiet panic.

Sketchbook + excessive number of pens: Even just one sketchbook is hard to fill out in one's day-to-day life. Pens, however, can be used for almost any situation!

Cat kibble: For the kitties.

(Aaaand here's the artwork! Both with a clean bg and a transparent one :D This was a brain workout to think about, but I had so much fun trying to brainstorm ideas!!)

[thinkerer24]

Guilty as Sin?

Summary: Jack can't keep his eyes (or his thoughts) off of Samira. Unfortunately for him, she belongs to someone else. Is it a sin to want her in his dreams?

Warnings: Suicidal ideations, mentions of cheating (but not really), SMUT, uhhhhh yeah, that's it.

A/N: A big thank you to @cosmclover for the idea and for being so patient. It was so much fun to write this. I kinda changed the exact meaning of the song because I love happy endings but hehe, there's adequate angst, don't worry.

Also the collage is made by me! On Pinterest! Don't steal! It took me like, 5 mins, I know, but still!!!!!!!

My boredom’s bone deep

This cage was once just fine

Am I allowed to cry?

I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves

Or the ocean rocks

Jack awoke with a gasp, fingers white knuckling the sheets as the remnants of his nightmare reverberate in his bones. He could still feel the asphalt beneath his thighs, chafing through the cargo material and abrading his skin, the black smoke thick around him, choking the remaining air from his alveoli. Phantom hands grasped at his shoulders, trying to pull a semi conscious Jack out of the rubble he'd been buried under. Twenty tonnes of concrete should've killed a man- and it would've-if it hadn't been for his competence as a trauma surgeon and hadn't torniqued his trapped leg right beneath the knee.

Rhabdomyolysis, he vaguely remembers. The muscles trapped under the pressure breakdown and the proteins enter the bloodstream. Clog the tiny arteries in the kidney vasculature. If your kidneys are fucked, your entire system is fucked. Ripping the tshirt from his body and tying it tight around his leg was the easy job, the tough part was slowly losing feeling beneath his knee and knowing it'd had to be cut off.

He shakes the memories off his body, shivering slightly in the chill of the Pittsburgh winter night. Safe. Far away from the artillery shelling and piercing shrieks.

Why didn't it feel safe? Why did the walls of the small on call room hundreds of miles away still get his cortisol spiking?

"Dr Abbot?" A small voice from the other side of the door speaks out, and despite his annoyance, his breathing immediately stabilises. Dr. Mohan steps into the room and shuts the door behind her, eyes creased with worry. Jack feels his hands stop shaking. He wants to thumb those creases away.

"I heard you shout. Is everything okay?"

Damn you, Samira Mohan. Damn you and your doe like visage.

Jack just nods, one finger lightly tracing the radial pulse over his other hand, noticing how his heart rate has already leveled out. He gulps once, twice, and looks her dead in the eye.

He remembers a time when his trips to the roof of the hospital were frequent; once almost every four hours. He never slept, never spoke to anyone when he was feeling that particular way; just beelined to the stairs and stood a bit too close to the edge on the other side of the railing. He imagined falling-- a niggling voice at the back of his head telling him to jump, could imagine the sickening squelch of his brain smattering against the concrete. Every day was getting tougher and tougher to bargain with, every moment felt like a negotiation with the inevitable.

Until Samira.

His Samira.

She would sneak up to the roof with him and stand off just a few feet away from the railing. She'd tell him about her day, how she found this insane article about treating a PSVT with rectal penetration or how her mother was making things difficult about her marriage back at home- Indian parents and what not. She spoke about one of the new interns- Santos? Who asked her out for girls night but she didn't know if it would be the "chill in your pyjamas and watch Hulu" typa party, or "get so drunk you puke in your ex's backyard" type. She would ramble until one of the nurses would page either of them and they had to trudge their way down.

He loved listening to her talk, rarely saying anything in return. He could feel himself looking forward to their time on the terrace, his eyes shifting eagerly to the clock in central, just so he could find the right moment to slink away to the terrace with her in tow.

Until one day she didn't arrive. He waited for a few minutes and decided against paging her, thinking it to be too desperate, or too weird, or too un mentor- like, or any of the other hundred bullshit thoughts that plague his mind at any given moment. He paced impatiently but gave up soon. It was the end of his shift anyway- he thought she might have left already. He leaned against the railing and sighed, when a loud giggle snapped his attention.

He climbed over the railing to the other side and bent a bit to see where the sound was coming from and -it felt so juvenile to even think it- but, his heart almost stopped. A blonde man, mid-late 30s, was carrying a huge bouquet of lilacs in one arm and grabbing onto Samira's waist with the other. She looked- radiant. Her hair was open and flowing in the harsh wind, curls almost forming a halo around her face. She was laughing at something blondie said (seriously, who spends extra money to stay platinum blonde? Draco Malfoy?) and wrapped both her hands around his neck as he lifted her effortlessly and kissed her.

"Jack?" Her voice brings him back from his reverie (it could bring him back from the dead, if she so wished, Hades no match for her sweet tone) He shakes his head and smiles weakly at her.

"Just a bad dream"

She nods and walks up to him and stands between his legs and oh, his breathing turns erratic again. She runs her slender fingers through his greying curls and smoothens it out. He thinks he could fall asleep again, just like this. He resists the urge to drop his forehead into her chest and take a deep breath, inhaling her scent-- strawberries and the harsh antiseptic mixed with something that could only be described as her.

"The wolves are gone, Jack. You're safe here."

He just nods.

Crashing into him tonight

He's a paradox

I'm seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh

Only in my mind?

Samira doesn't remember the last time she could hear her heart valves beat open and shut.

Right atrium, then tricuspid. Pulmonary veins into the left side. Aortic valves beating thump, thump, thump.

Jack was right behind her, holding the guidewire with a loose grip as she manoeuvred the catheter into the jugular. It wasn't a complicated procedure but Jack insisted on showing her the ropes (again). The nurses shared a look which Samira clocked immediately but she was too aware of his proximity to her back, his breath over the nape of her neck to say anything.

The low cadence of his voice made something clench in her lower abdomen, right below her navel. It felt obscene; not appropriate for the public eye, she thought, as he recited the steps in a low baritone. His whisper made it seem something more intimate than it actually was, and Samira couldn't help but imagine that same voice in a more... Private setting.

As soon as she's finished, she pushes away from Jack with a grunt and shucks off her PPE before beelining to the bathroom. A hot flush creeps up her chest and her breathing gets more erratic as she shuts the stall door and frantically pushes a hand into her scrub pants. It was so embarrassing; she'd never done anything like this before, but Jack's voice was still echoing in her mind, his breath still hot on her cheek. She dips a finger into her folds and gasps.

Dripping.

She was drenched.

Rapid strokes of her fingers over her slick clit makes her vision go blurry and she can't breathe anymore. Her chest is heaving and legs are trembling already, flashes of grey hair and a wrinkled smile plaguing the back of her closed eyes like an old tape. She imagines the same cadence of his voice whispering praise into her cunt as he looks up; a wretched expression on his face as he devours her whole. She bites the palm of her hand as the other picks up the pace. She can't take it anymore, her gut twisting into something awful, something explosive.

"Come for me, Samira" she imagines him pleading and she's gone.

A broken sob leaves her and her knees buckle where she stands, almost falling. Her head slams into the stall door behind her and she finds herself praying that no one is in the bathroom to witness this moment of weakness. Her fingers are relentless as they ride her through her high. She comes to soon enough and sighs, when the ping of a message notification snaps her out of the post orgasmic bliss.

Nate🥰: Pizza or Chinese? I'll be done with work soon, can't wait to see you!

Shit.

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

"Samira- I, fuck, please"

Full bellied moans permeate the empty room as Jack clutches his pillow hard and almost smothers himself with it to keep the neighbours from hearing how pathetic he really is, how pathetic he feels. He'd been fisting the length of his too hard cock for the better part of an hour with no relief in sight-- he just physically couldn't seem to reach his peak no matter what he tried. His arms were hurting, back sore from being hunched up in one position, voice croaky and throat dry, grey tshirt drenched with sweat even in the Pittsburgh winter, but his body was betraying him harder than Judas himself. He lay himself down on the bed, the pillow smushed over his face in agony, while his other hand fisted himself dry to the thought of caramel skin, strawberry shampoo and those big brown eyes.

It's a longing he can't satisfy no matter how badly he wants it; the images of pressing his lips to her soft, full ones; her opening up to let him lick into her mouth; her biting his lips raw and smearing her spit all over his chin, his cheek; his Samira bending down slowly and kneeling in front of him, smiling up at him as her jaw drops open to swallow him whole - fuck.

He gives up, dejected, as his orgasm evades him again, for probably the fourth time that night. The visions weren't enough, his cells craving the tangible presence of Samira. He needed her here, needed to smell the tang of her cunt as he fingered her spot, make her spray into his open mouth. Needed to hear her squeal and cry and beg as he gave her everything she needed and more, because he couldn't say no, not to his Samira.

His. The word tasted sour on his tongue as he remembered her laugh and giggle in the arms of another man. Jack was sure Nate could lift Samira up without a crick in his back, without lurching to the side because he didn't have a bum leg. He probably didn't wake up due to nightmares of bloodied soldiers and orphaned children. He probably spent his time doing social service or something, not with his hands down his pants like a fuckinng pervert at the thought of his (taken) coworker.

Goddamn you, Jack.

I keep these longings locked

In lowercase inside a vault

Someone told me

There's no such thing as bad thoughts

Only your actions talk

Nate rocked into her cunt with as much vigor as a dead mole rat, which was giving the benefit of the doubt to the dead mole rat. It's not that he was bad in bed, per se, just-

Not what she needed right now.

"I know you can be good for me, Samira"

She gasped because her mind was playing tricks on her, she's sure of it. She closes her eyes and her brain supplied decadent pictures of Jack and his greying curls above her, slight smirk on his face as he rutted viciously into her. Her grip tightened on her lover's back as she squeezed her eyes harder; to prolong the scene. Jack, with his filthy mouth whispering in her ear-

"You're so beautiful, Samira."

"Yeah, wanna come for me? Take it, pretty girl, take it."

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good around me, could die buried in your pussy"

She doesn't know what has overcome her; it was so unlike her to think of another man in bed. She would be embarrassed, ashamed, really, under normal circumstances. But the very thought of Jack instead of Nate made her gush out a stream of slick, making Nate's cock slip further in. He stuttered above her, getting even sloppier in his movements and Samira fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. Poor thing, not his fault he wasn't really experienced. But Samira wasn't in the mood to play teacher right now. She didn't want slow, didn't want to guide him over the edge. She wanted Jack, her Jack, to bore his eyes into hers as he forced her to come over and over and over-

Nate groaned as he emptied into the condom, (finally, thought Samira), and pushed himself off and laid panting on the pillow beside her. She looked at him- his platinum blonde hair (seriously, who pays money for that?), his long eyelashes, those baby blues. The slight smile on his face as he stares at her longingly, kissing her shoulders and thanking her for being patient with him and sorry if it was awkward, he didn't really have much experience, he'll be more confident the next time. Her heart broke-- she didn't know how to comfort him, to hold him close and tell him- it's okay, it happens to the best of us. She couldn't find the right words, but she knew what she had to do.

She knew she couldn't carry this on any longer, couldn't keep imagining another man while the one in front of her fell deeper and deeper in love. She knew what was going to happen next- the screaming, the look of betrayal, the furrowed brows and clipped words as they both say stuff they don't mean.

She takes a deep breath, bracing for the inevitable storm.

These fatal fantasies

Giving way to labored breath

Taking all of me

We've already done it in my head

If it's make believe

Why does it feel like a vow

We'll both uphold somehow?

My bedsheets are ablaze

I've screamed his name

Building up like waves

Crashing over my grave

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

What if I roll the stone away?

They're gonna crucify me anyway

What if the way you hold me

Is actually what's holy?

If long suffering propriety

Is what they want from me

They don't know how you've haunted me

So stunningly

I choose you and me

... Religiously

Fuck what they think.

Jack paces the hardwood floor of his two bedded apartment, almost causing a fire due to the friction from his socks. He'd been rehearsing what he wanted to say for an entire hour, how he'd beg, plead, even kneel down in front of Samira to pick him, choose him, love him, her boyfriend be damned. He'd decided what flowers to bring (she loved lilies, not lilacs, you fool) and how he'd justify his selfishness, his bone-rotting greed when it came to her.

That's it, he thinks. Stop overthinking this.

Sudden, sharp raps from the front door pull him out of his spiral. He furrows his brows and looks at the watch on his hand.

8.24 pm.

He wasn't expecting anyone and a grating sort of annoyance builds in his gut at the thought of dealing with anyone right now. He grumbles all the way to the front door, mumbling his old-man tirade about don't you know what time it is? Who even comes unannounced -?

"Samira?"

His Samira stands in front of his door, drenched from head to toe from the rain. He didn't even notice the storm outside, much too preoccupied with his own turmoil, but the sight of her slightly shivering sent an alarm down his back.

"Oh my god, Samira, come in-what? What's wrong? Is something wrong? Did something happen, I-"

She hurries inside and places her hands on his mouth to shush him, and Jack just melts.

"Jack, I'm gonna need you to shut up, okay?"

He nods. He usually is unable to do much else when he's around her, to be honest.

She shuts the door behind her and walks further into his house and picks up the spare hand towel on his centre table and starts wiping her drenched curls with it. She looks around the house, noticing how clean and well kept it is; her eyes lingering at a framed picture of Jack and his battalion back in Afghanistan. She walks closer to the picture and notices multiple medals of honor neatly placed in the shelf below and lightly traces her fingers across them. Jack shudders in his spot, almost as if she'd run her fingers across him instead.

"I need to tell you something, Jack." She turns around and finally looks at him. His breath catches in his throat. "I need you to promise you won't over react. "

He scoffs and steps closer but she puts a palm up and stares him down.

"Samira, you're scaring me. Talk to me."

"I left him." She breathes out, confident, and decisive.

For a minute Jack thinks he's misheard her. He doesn't realise what "him" this could be in relation to. He quirks his head in query and fixes her with a stare. Slowly, he puts two and two together and-

Oh.

Oh.

"What?" Super eloquent, Jack. Well done.

Samira sighs and steps closer to him. "Nate. I left him. I realised we ... Weren't compatible with each other."

"Uh, okay?" Wow, Jack. Five stars.

Samira looks like she could strangle him alive. She sighs loudly and looks up to the sky as if to beg for strength.

"Jack, it took me a long time to get the courage to say this, but it's the truth and I need you to hear it. I left him, because I realised I wanted you. I want to wake up next to you, every morning. I want to look forward to starting my shift with you, and ending it by your side. I want it all, the dates, the movies, the sitting idle and reading journals, the walks on the beach and the stupid county fairs and -fuck, I know I'm rambling and free feel to step in any time, but- i want you, Jack. Not Nate, not anyone else."

Jack remembers eating his mother's handmade chicken noodle soup for the first time after he had been through the amputation surgery. He remembers how grateful he was to be alive, how hard he cried when he held her close, how lovely the soup tasted going down his parched throat as she fed it to him with tears in her eyes. He remembers thinking- nothing's going to feel better than this.

Well, here he was, in front of his Samira, realising there's never going to be a better moment in his life than this.

"I was going to buy lilies" he says, still dumbfounded.

"I-what?"

"Lilies," he repeats, shifting closer to her. "I know they're your favorite. I wanted to buy lilies and go up to your door and fall to my knees and beg you to feel the same way I do because, fuck, Samira, you don't know how long I've waited for this. This moment, the slant of light as it hits your eyes, your fucking hair, fuck, I- I don't think you know how beautiful you are to me, what you do to me. I'd worship you every day if I could, I'd start a religion after you if you'd let me. I'd go to war again, if you just asked. Fuck, Samira, I love you. "

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh

Only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

Their clothes were long gone, heavy confessions melted into filthy whispers, as Jack makes Samira come on his tongue again. She looks ethereal, hair still slightly wet from the rain and sticking to her forehead, perky breasts swaying lightly with her movement, her belly caving in with each tremor that racks her body. Jack licks into her reverently, wide tongue tracing every crevice of her wet, wet cunt. Her swollen clit begged for his lips and he happily obliged, sucking lightly as his tongue flicked the tip simultaneously. Samira's eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth dropped open in a quiet scream. Jack moaned into her slick, eyes not leaving her face for even one second. He eases two fingers into her and starts a decadent pace, the tips finding her g spot so quick it makes her head reel.

"Right there? Yeah? Is that your special spot, baby?"

Yeah, Samira thinks. Just as filthy as I'd imagined.

She nods and he smiles at her, something so genuine it makes her chest hurt. He licks up her clit once, twice, and she's gone, coming hard around his fingers. The rhythmic contraction of her cunt around him makes him see white for a second, and he drools over her cunt at the thought of burying himself inside her. Once she comes down from her high, he kisses up her body and lands at her lips, ravenous in his thirst for her.

He pulls back and pressed his nose against her. Breathes in.

Strawberry shampoo. His Samira.

He lifts her in his arms, but immediately regrets it as a sharp pain runs through his knee where the skin pinches against the socket of the prosthesis. He winces and Samira notices it immediately.

"Is it your leg?" Her voice was soft, like trying to soothe a caged animal. He nods and starts with some excuse, some apology, but she just shakes her head and pushes him off of her. She kneels down by the couch and holds his leg gently in her palms. She's completely naked and looking like one of those nymphs in Greek literature and Jack thinks he's actually died and gone to heaven. She takes off his prosthetic gently, removing the sock along with it and makes a sympathetic face at the redness along the skin there. She looks up at him and massages the stump gently, with such reverence, it makes him almost tear up. For the first time he couldn't maintain eye contact with Samira and she was not having any of it.

"Hey," she whispers. "Look at me."

She continues rubbing the skin there until it feels much, much more bearable and only then does Jack turn to look her in the eyes. She smiles.

"Hi"

"Hi" he replies. He offers his hand to her and she takes it, pulling herself up. She straddles his wide hips and immediately, Jack's pupils dilate, almost blown black.

Samira grinds softly along his bulge that's getting harder by the second, his palms slow and teasing in their path across her ass, her hips, squeezing her love handles and ribs, groping her breasts and tweaking her nipples as they find their way into her hair and pull her into a kiss. Her movements get quicker, needier, a spot forming in his pants with how wet she is. He quickly shucks down his sweatpants and oh, his cock is leaking, hard and so so beautiful it makes Samira's mouth water.

She slowly licks up the flat of her palm and pumps his cock steadily, making him hiss and roll his eyes back. She lifts up on her knees and rubs his dick through her folds, coating him in her wetness and Jack can't take it anymore.

His grip on her tightens and he pulls her to his chest, the movement causing his tip to pop into her pussy. She gasps so loudly she thinks the neighbours could hear, and doesn't give her body a chance to adjust as she slams herself down onto him.

They both moan, a sound so pathetic it would make them both blush if they'd heard it any other time. The friction felt heavenly and Jack was worried he'd finish before he had even started. Samira starts grinding on top of him, her wetness slipping easily over him and creating a mess in his lap. He didn't care, not in the least, as his head dips down and he stares at the hair at the base of his cock getting drenched in her juices. His tongue lols out and sucks a nipple into his mouth. Samira gets even more frantic, bouncing on his cock- up and down and up and down and up and down- until her thighs start straining and she gets slightly out of breath. Jack notices immediately- of course he does- and wraps his arms around her waist, plants his one good leg on the floor, and thrusts up into her with the vigor of a man half his age. Samira squeals in delight, his hard cock hitting every mind numbing spot inside her and stretching her out so good it's making her mind go blank.

"Oh Jack, fuck fuck fuck you feel so good, I-"

"Oh sweetheart I'm gonna need you to let go, yeah? I'm gonna need this pretty pussy to come and squirt all in my lap and just, fuck, just drown me, baby. I want to be smelling of you for weeks, i wanna taste you in everything i eat, fuck, baby, don't you wanna be good for me? Come for me so I can fill you up- don't you want that? My Samira?" And oh, fuck- she's gone.

An intense supernova crackles through her nervous system as she comes hard, actually squirting all over his lap, just like he'd asked for. She's crying and coming and holding onto him for dear life as he talks her through her orgasm, pumping his hips steadily. He follows soon enough, emptying his load deep inside her, his body finally achieving the relief he'd been craving for months.

They calm down eventually, and Jack finds himself stroking random patterns onto Samira's back with the gentlest touch. She shivers in his grasp and cuddles into his chest further, the squelch between their legs making her blush slightly. They were going to have to get up soon, take a hot shower and clean up, eat something solid since it'd been a while for Samira, and Jack promised he'd show her how to make chicken noodle soup since she was craving it for a while now. But that was going to happen in some time. For now, they were snuggled up close, content in each other's arms. And that was all that either of them needed.

[hoonieyun]

score: love!

9 hours on facetime???

pairing: lee heeseung x reader "y/n"

warnings: nothing really, some sappy staff, family issues and talk of anxiety and stress but always 18+

wc: 902

this chapter is MOSTLY written but i will be releasing another chapter later in the day hehe

-

“hi, hee…” you say. voice a bit quiet but loud enough for heeseung to hear.

“hey, yn… everything alright?” he asks and with a sudden overwhelming amount of emotion; tears suddenly fall from your eyes. heeseung is shocked at your sudden behavior. he’s only known two emotions from you and they were anger and… well he wasn’t sure what the other emotion would be because for most of the time you’re usually yelling at him or rolling your eyes.

needless to say, he was unsure of what to do or how to help. 

you weren’t even sure why you were crying. maybe it was because there was so much riding on you that it’s all just piled up and an immense amount of stress has started to weigh you down or the fact that maybe no one has asked you how you were doing. 

“sorry, i don’t know why i’m crying- i just…” you begin to say and almost instantly heesueng goes to reassure you that it’s okay to cry and that he’s cried before. “i cried a few days ago to be honest… i was playing this game, league? have you heard of it? ah it doesn’t matter but i cried because i was so frustrated that i kept losing and tears just started falling from my eyes and-”

“heeseung?” you cut him off, he suddenly stops talking after realizing he’s been rambling. 

“sorry… i don’t even know where i was going with that.” he says and you laugh at his response. “its okay, it kinda made me feel better.” you say and heeseung smiles, unsure how his rambling managed to cheer you up but content that it did anyway. 

“do you wanna talk about it? or should i just keep rambling to make you feel better?” heeseung asks and once again you chuckle at him. you weren’t sure why heeseung’s small attempts to make you feel better were working so well but you didn’t dare question it. 

“i just-” you begin. “there is so much i have to get done and there is so much that could go wrong. my little sister’s tuition… the next installment is due and… FUCK am i broke.” you say. confessing to heeseung your worries. 

“if i’m being honest, i don’t even know if we can win this tourney…” you confess. 

“hey. don’t say that. we’re such good players and together we’re even better…” heeseung says. “i’m not sure how i can help but i’m here for you regardless…” heeseung says. his words providing a blanket of comfort for you. 

the two of you sit in silence for a moment. staring at your screen, taking in heeseung’s features. his eyes are soft, his tall nose that glistened at the tip under the small light in his room, his slightly messy hair… you never noticed how handsome he is. 

“you know, i was surprised when you asked me to call. i honestly thought you still hated me.” he says and once again, his unintentional attempt at making you feel better causes you to laugh. “yeah i wasn’t sure why i asked you…” you say. 

“to be honest, i think it’s because i don’t know how to bring these types of worries to my friends. i’m afraid they’d judge me too much.” you say. heeseung is quiet for a moment, unsure what to say in response. “they wouldn’t.” heeseung says. 

“your friends. they wouldn’t judge you.” he continues. you were now looking into heeseung’s eyes but since you were on a video call, you’re unsure if he’s looking into yours (he was). 

“yeah. i guess you’re right.” you respond. 

“i’ve seen how they look at you. your friends love you so much.” heeseung continues and his words hit harder than they should. like he was telling you something you should’ve already known. 

for your whole life you had to fight off this dark cloud in your head. that you needed to keep everything in for the sake of everyone else. you and hyeju lost your parents at a young age and you were left to raise your little sister and yourself. alone and unsure what to do but somehow you’ve made it as far as you have and you plan to make it further. 

“am i..? your friend?” heeseung asks, his voice quiet and slow as he asks the question. 

your gaze falls onto him, he was now laying back onto his bed, one arm propped up behind his head. you pondered on his question, still unsure why you were suddenly so comfortable unloading all of this information onto someone you deemed your biggest enemy just a few weeks ago. 

an anger that you harbored inside of you for the last few years and suddenly… this anger was gone… and replaced with; serenity. 

“yeah…” you say. 

“you are my friend, heeseung.” you say with a smile and heeseung responds with an even bigger smile. a smile that causes your stomach to have butterflies. an unfamiliar feeling? no, but from heeseung? yes. 

you and heeseung spend the rest of the night and the early morning on facetime. talking about each of your lives, your favorite of things, tennis gameplay and strategy, and what you’d do if you had all the money in the world. 

you both fall asleep on the phone, heeseung’s light snoring lullying you to bed while your soft breathing lulled him into his own slumber. 

masterlist - backhand - forehand

tennis commentator: it seems our two favorite mixed doubles partners are getting quite friendly... and not in the way you think!

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

taglist: @jiiyen @pshbites @rairaiblog @fgumi @heartheejake @silquids @who-tf-soddhi @manaah02 @vhuteryh @17ericas @firstclassjaylee @noirvedette @starry-eyed-bimbo

[stabbyfoxandrew]

i think i sent my ask for 🧛 but tumblr was being weird so here just in case <3 i love that the slowburn is uh. now a quickburn. hehe

WIP Wednesday (7/9) | Vampire Andrew AU (Part 279) [A/N: SMUT]

"Yes." Andrew takes a breath and looks down at where his body meets Kevin's hand. In the past minute he's been imagining every possible scenario, from him grinding against Kevin's palm to sending him back downstairs. But what he's landed on is somewhere in between. "I'm going to get myself off while you watch. That alright with you?"

"Yes." Kevin answers immediately, pupils dilated to such a degree Andrew would almost think he were high on something. Andrew undoes his jeans and shoves his underwear out of the way, listening to Kevin's inner monologue which includes not only commentary about hot the situation is but that he's surprised at Andrew's size.

"We can't all be so infinitely blessed," Andrew tells him.

"You're proportionate, that's all. Can I touch—"

"No," Andrew cuts him off faster than Kevin can form the rest of the question. Kevin only wants to put his hands back where they were, on Andrew's waist, but Andrew fears that might be too much for him. "This is hands to yourself time. If you touch me I might hurt you."

Kevin gives him a curious look, but simply tucks his hands behind his head without another word. With his shirt still rucked up under his arms he's the perfect combination seat and jack-off material. Andrew wraps his hand around himself and hisses in relief. He tries not to think about the fact that this is the first time he's ever let someone see his dick. Ever wanted to let someone see him. And he does want, he just— 

"Close your eyes." Andrew tells Kevin. 

He obeys immediately, lashes fluttering as he shuts his eyes. And he doesn't even complain. Andrew jerks himself hard and fast, listening to Kevin's thoughts. It seems he appreciates every sound Andrew makes, no matter that they're barely audible. Each minuscule groan is music to his ears and Andrew just doesn't understand at one bit. But if he lets himself be a bit louder for Kevin's sake, no one needs to know.

"Hn, fuck." Andrew curses when he realizes how quick his orgasm is approaching. 

"Andrew?" Kevin eyes pop open, thinking something is wrong. Andrew puts his free hand over them and Kevin swallows. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing. It's, ah," Andrew bucks into his own hand and holds in a growl. Normally he'd stuff his other fist in his mouth but he thinks he prefers it touching Kevin's face. "Kevin, talk to me."

"Talk?"

"Ramble like you always do, tell me what you're thinking."

"You already know—"

"Out loud, Kevin. I need it out loud. I need it to be real." Andrew grits out.

[kowtownart]

After giving it more thought… i think Birb and Tenna definitely had a thing back in the day.

Which makes it that much more funny that they’ve been reunited by my silly ass-

(*Love how this posted instead of saving to my drafts, thank you Tumblr*)

Lore/story ramble under the cut, plus a little piece of art!

After the SNEO fight, the majority of Birb’s memories became corrupted. In an attempt to save his system, the majority of those memories (older, mostly from his BS era and before) were deleted.

Though this left many gaps about who he was and the people he had met (and fallen out with), he could still recall bits and pieces. One of those being the business partner he had worked with so many years ago.

After leaving Cyber World with Birb, we settled in a house filled with friends and other versions of himself. (i consider this canon to mine and Birb’s story bc it makes me happy :3 ) Months later, i decided to take a trip back to the Cyber World, only to find that it had already closed.

(In my version of things, my sona kinda goes along the same paths as the Fun Gang. They’re still going through their things, but somehow i keep stumbling upon the dark worlds that open! Maybe i work as a janitor at the school and discover Castletown at some point? I’ll have to think about it more hehe)

Anyways- after exploring the town, and worrying about finding a way back, i notice the tell-tale smoke coming from Kris' house. Of course i rush over, throwing the door open and jumping down... down... down...

Eventually i wake up in yet another world. This time TV themed! After meeting Tenna, who is very surprised and excited to have yet another contestant join his show. We play a slightly different version of the 'Legend of Tenna', and i eventually catch up with the Fun Gang.

Following the end events of the chapter, i offer to take Tenna home with me, though i have to promise Susie that he'll visit Castle town from time to time.

I really want to think about how Tenna and Birb meet, because i'd hate to move someone in without even talking about it to him. I figure that Birb and I would talk a lot about it, Tenna staying in Castle Town until things are settled.

Birb is a very jealous little fella sometimes, especially with someone he thinks could steal me away with his looks alone. So i could see a few small fights breaking out before things finally simmer down between the two.

Once that's settled, then there's the issue of Birb being Spamton... the same Spamton that had abandoned Tenna so long ago. He looks and acts so different, they might as well be a different person entirely.