#but make him nerdier

[echoes-of-the-unknown]

Human! Perry is on the brain and it is a delight to draw

More doodles!

[snowrea0]

AM humansona sketch (very hate filled)

[oathtorn]

// i've had drizzt for 5 chapters and man this child is autistic af

[saddestghostaround]

spencer reid literally deserves to wear skirts, the writers should've given him a long skirt to wear

[histrynerdss]

me really just changing my personality for this istg 🙄🙄🙄 /j

[misctf]

What You Wanted

Richard wanted to better himself. At first, as a wide-eyed new freshman, he was looking to make a change. Having always been more nerdy and unathletic, Richard prioritized his studies rather than his physical fitness growing up. But after years of fearing the gym, he took his first step. And the rest was history. He grew lean with muscle and learned the ins and outs of the gym routine. He found a gym buddy and quickly climbed the social hierarchy. Smart, fit, and now entering his junior year- he was living his best life.

“Richard!” Thomas’s nasally voice cut through the air, “Are you even paying attention?” Beady eyes narrowed behind his thick rimmed glasses.

Richard shrugged, “Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.” He was thinking more about his gym session earlier that day instead of paying attention to whatever nerdy movie Thomas picked, “I’m just not feeling it today.”

Richard and Thomas were friends since middle school. Both unapologetically nerdy, each surviving their fair share of bullying. But while Richard’s interests in fitness blossomed, Thomas remained entrenched in all things nerdy.

“You’re never feeling it anymore.” Thomas lamented, “I’m worried about you.” He looked at his friend closely, “Are you becoming like them? One of those stupid, smelly meatheads?” Richard knew Thomas never approved of his new friends- especially since many of them gave off the same vibes as their former bullies.

“Thomas, look.” Richard started, “I just... We’re obviously very different people now.”

“Not true! We both study Biochemistry! We’re both applying to graduate school in a few months!” Thomas interjected.

“Yeah, but Thomas, I’ve changed. I don’t really like superheroes and Battle Monsters and all that stuff anymore.” Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I mean, its fun from time to time, but you’re obsessed with it.”

“Obsessed?”

Richard nodded, “Look, I need to get going. I have an exam.” He grabbed his backpack and started towards the door.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Thomas yelled, “So you think you’re better than me too? Just like all those stupid jocks, right?” Thomas continued, “Fine, if you want to be a stupid, smelly jock so bad, go for it! Don’t come crying to me!”

“Whatever.” Richard said, “See you around.”

_________

Richard worked through his thermodynamics exam with ease. It became such a mindless activity that his thoughts wandered to Thomas. They had been close for years. And Thomas gave him an outlet for some of his more nerdier interests. Sure, he wasn’t as interested in all that nerd stuff like he was back in middle school, but Richard did value the time he spent with Thomas. He frowned. Maybe he was just a bit too harsh.  He’d apologize once he got done with his exam. But as he continued to write down the answers to these complex questions, he felt something welling up from within him. Something physical... something...

BUUUUURRRRPPPPP

Richard’s eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth. He felt his cheeks flush red and looked around the room, noticing a few looks of disgust, as well as a few snickers from some of his classmates.

“Richard?” The professor said, looking up from her book.

“Yo, my bad dude.” Richard’s eyes widened, as did the professor’s, “Whoa, brah! Didn’t mean to say that!” His face reddened even more.

“Richard, please focus on your test.” She said sternly.

He nodded, trying to tune out the snickers from his surrounding classmates, ‘What the fuck was that?’ He thought to himself, trying to regain his composure, ‘Okay... just focus.’

But as he stared at the problems on his exam, he noticed small drops of water appearing on his paper. He raised an eyebrow as more drops appeared on his test, smudging his work.

“What the...?” He whispered, “Sweat?” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, “What the fuck?” He said aloud, again disrupting the class.

“Richard!” The professor slammed her book down.

“Dude, just back off.” Richard snapped back. He heard a few audible gasps from his fellow students and his face flushed red, “Bro, that came out wrong. I don't get why I'm sounding like this, bro.” His face flushed red again and he suddenly stood up and headed towards the door, “I gotta take a breather.” He said. But as he approached the door he could feel the same heaviness in his stomach, “No, no no... buuuuuuuuurrrrrpppppppp.”

He slammed the door behind him, and fled from the classroom.

_________

Richard walked across campus as fast as he could. He needed to get back to his apartment as soon as possible. Or maybe to a doctor. But wherever he went, he just needed to be somewhere private. The young man wiped some sweat from his brow and cringed.

“No way dude, I’m like a waterfall.” He whispered, “Oh fuck, look at my pits.” Dark pit stains rapidly formed beneath his arms and continued to grow larger. Richard stopped in his tracks and raised his arms, taking a deep whiff of his own stench, “Huhuhuh that’s ripe, dude.” He chuckled to himself. It was the judgmental stares of nearby students that broke him out of his train of thought, “I’m sorry!” He whispered, blushing deeply, “I didn’t mean to... burrrrppppppppp.” His face reddened even more.

“Haha nice one bro!” A nearby jock laughed.

“Yeah dude! Been dropping bombs all day.” Richard replied with a grin. He quickly shook his head and ran towards his dorm room, ignoring the jock's attempt for a fist bump.

_________

Richard slammed the door to his dorm room shut and threw his backpack across the room. At this point, he didn’t know what to do. His shirt had soaked through from his sweat and a new manly musk was clinging to his sweaty body.

“Okay, I just gotta go to an urgent care.” Richard whispered.

He walked over to his dresser to change his shirt, and he quickly stripped out of his soaked t-shirt. But when he looked down at his body, something wasn’t right.

“Yo dude, since when did I get abs?” Richard mumbled, “Oh shit, look at my boulders.” He rubbed a hand across his large shoulders, giving them a squeeze and chuckling dumbly, “Huhuhuh why do I need a shirt?” He flexed his bicep and watched as it bulged with strength, “Woah fuck look at that!” He watched as his bicep seemed to get a bit larger too, “Dude... that’s buuuuuuurrppppppp.” Richard chuckled, “Fuckin’ new protein powder. Makin’ my gassy as fuck.”

His plans to visit an Urgent Care were quickly leaving his mind. Instead, he continued to focus on his various poses, and amused himself with each growing muscle. Richard walked over to the couch and fell back onto it, grabbing his phone and posting a new picture of himself on his social media. All the white, he absentmindedly scratched as his massive chest, which was starting to sprout a light dusting of hairs. He grinned as various likes started appearing on his picture, and he felt his cock start to grow. He grabbed his massive cock and started stroking it, moaning with each tug.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, “Fuck people would be lucky to ride this dick.” He grinned, “Dick’s dick huhuhuh.” A knock at his door broke his concentration and he groaned with disappointment. His cock remained tented in his pants, but he didn’t care. He opened the door, casually scratching his hairy pit, “Oh fuck, Thomas dude! What’s up?”

Thomas grinned, “Richard?” He asked, “Wow.”

“Impressed broski? And don’t call me Richard. More of a Richy.” Richy grinned, “Come in, bro! Look, I’m like totally sorry about earlier. All that nerd stuff that you like. Didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

“You don’t have to worry, Richy. You made it quite clear that you’re not a nerd anymore.” Thomas chuckled, “You wanted to be a stupid jock, well now you are.” 

Richy raised an eyebrow, “Stupid jock?” Something about that wasn’t right. Stupid jock? The words kept echoing in his head, “Stupid jock?” He repeated again, scratching his head, “That’s not... I...” Richy grabbed his head and looked at his friend. For just a second, the dull, dumb look in Richy’s eye was replaced by a knowing intelligence. A horrific realization evident in them. But it quickly lost its spark and his eyes dulled, “Huhuhuh yeah, I guess I’m pretty stupid. But doesn’t really matter when you’ve got this.” He grabbed his bulge and smirked, “Dude, you see that pic I posted? You think I could make it on OnlyFans?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, I think you could. But I ought to go.”

“No wait bro!” Richy said, blocking his path to the door, “I mean... I know you always say you hate jocks. But its ‘cause you’re into us, right bro?” Thomas’s face reddened, betraying his secret, “So like...” Richy smirked and walked up to Thomas, who’s own khakis were now tented, “You wanna star in my first OnlyFans vid?”

_________

Richy stretched his hands above his head and sniffed his ripe pits. His dick twitched at the smell and he grinned. It’d been a few weeks since he posted his first video to OnlyFans. And yet here he was again, rewatching his first video: “buff jock fucks gay nerd.” Without fail, it always made his dick hard. And even though he posted several more videos since then, he always found himself coming back to this one. But even a masterpiece gets dull and Richy pulled out his phone. He ignored several horrified texts from his parents asking why he dropped out of school, as well as deleting multiple invites to interview for grad programs, whatever those were. Instead he found Thomas’s contact info.

“Hey bro.” He messaged, “Be at my place ASAP.” He took a quick selfie and threw in a few eggplant emojis to get his point across.

Afterwards, he tossed his phone somewhere on his bed. He didn’t need to see Thomas’s response. Sure he was stupid, be he did know one thing. No one, especially not Thomas, could resist this dick. And the knock on his door not even ten minutes later was all the confirmation he needed.

[flareguncalamity]

siffrin- rogue of time (steals [time] to benefit others)

isabeau- knight of heart (exploits [the self] as a weapon)

mirabelle- maid of hope (protects [hope]/embodies [hope])

odile- mage of light (gains knowledge through [fortune])

bonnie- page of blood (has great potential in [bonds])

loop- seer of space (coordinates using knowledge of [space])

hope this helps :3

If its okay to ask, have you thought about what classpects the ISAT characters would have and if so would you be willing to share them?

buddy I'm sorry but it's 2024 and not 2014. I know some people are also stuck in 2014 just like you and have done the work tho

[l3viat8an]

Do you remember that old TikTok prank that was something like wiping away my bf kisses to see what he does? Could you do Lucifer and Mammon’s separate reactions to MC doing that? 

This ask made me giggle cuz I remember actually doing this prank jskjsks so ofc I can nonnie!! These are very silly / goofy, ‘n ooc like everything on my blog <3

I feel like Lucifer won’t say anything at first. You just wiped his kiss off… it’s not a big deal… but as soon as you leave the room he’s racking his brain, trying to think of anything he could’ve done wrong in the last few days to upset you or if it’s possible he’s been neglecting you? He has been extra busy lately…

After a few hours of deep contemplation he figures that it must’ve been a random thing. After all it was still early in the morning when you did it… maybe you were still half asleep and didn’t really mean to? yes that must be it!

Later in the afternoon when he kisses you again and again you wipe it away with the back of your hand, Lucifer does a double-take. but still, he doesn’t say anything.

(By now he’s probably going to guess it’s a prank- and he’s not going to let you just ‘win’ after making him worry first thing in the morning.)

In the evening just before bed, Lucifer tries again by giving you another, proper, kiss on the lips. and now that you’re too tired to remember you were pranking him- you don’t wipe this away kiss and he’s so happy!! He’s smiling to himself as he presses another soft kiss to your cheek and then another to your temple whispering, ‘good night, darling.’

Now Mammon would start pouting the second you wipe away his first kiss and he tries again immediately! kissing you a little longer the second time-

It’s not a big deal that you wiped away the first kiss, but when you try to wipe away the second kiss??? Hell nah!!

Mammon actually grabs your wrists, not hard- he’d never hurt you. he’s just holding your hands away from your face so you can’t do it again.

Pouting and saying, “Oi! Stop that already, ya gotta keep this kiss!!” as he kisses you again, even nerdier than before.

Mammon acts like he doesn’t care when you try to tell him it was ‘just a prank.’ although he looks so relieved-

But he’s still going to pout and on top of that he’s going to be extra clingy all day, kissing you any chance he gets and insisting that now you owe him 5000 kisses! To be given whenever he asks and you can’t say no! you can but he��ll pout even more.

(and really you’re lucky- Mammon actually wanted to say 10,000 kisses but that seemed like a little too much so he cut it in half. Just for you <3)

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

a/n: this is honestly a hot ass mess, and more like an info dump with some loose plot on the side. it's also ridiculously long because i have been wanting to write about this for so long, but i was lowkey too scared too. i also want to say that i don't condone the reader's actions, mean girls aren't cute nor are they funny, it's just for the morally gray plot 😭

i literally cannot stop thinking about what if Spencer Reid had a childhood best friend that was a mean girl.

realistically, i'm aware that spencer looks down on people like that, but for the sake of this au, imagine if the both of you grew up together, and you protected him from bullies and whatnot.

of course you're not a moral person, you're mean and you have a wicked tongue, and you're all around not nice, but spencer loves you.

i'm imagining a typical LA valley girl; that once you both get older, your clothing gets sluttier and you get meaner, while he gets nerdier.

your dynamic i imagine would be a really loose adaptation of the 'mean to everyone else but you' trope.

it's kind of funny to an outsider looking in, because you feel the need to protect your boy genius from people like you.

spencer helps to reel in the bitchy tendencies in you, because you typically lose your cool fast and say whatever's on your mind, which usually comes at a cost of the other person's feelings.

when you guys were younger, he was definitely scared of you.

though you were this chunky girl that should have been bullied right along with him, you were downright worse than what he had to deal with.

the poor boy nearly shit himself when you sat with him at lunch the day after you had saved him from getting his ass kicked.

he was too nervous to say anything, and you've never left him alone since.

now that spencer's older, he figures that your friendship kind of tracks; he always did attract trouble.

the strange part about it was that, yes, you were snappy, but you had never purposely tried to hurt his feelings.

he knows how you get, especially when you go on your tangents or if your buttons had been repeatedly pushed.

you lash out and say things you don't mean, then slink back into his arms with that charming pout on your face, and an apology thick on the tip of your tongue.

spencer sometimes forgets that people kind of fear you because you're sweet on him.

like let's be honest, you're a judgy bitch. no one likes those.

so when he's exposed to that side of you, he gets whiplash.

you took well to the team though, and i only think that's because you can tell how much they mattered to him.

your main thing had always been to try and defend him against people that have ill intentions.

so when see the sheer amount of camaraderie and familial energy that surrounds all of them, you ease up.

but not when they cut him off. that's when you get ugly.

you guys were in separate grades due to spencer jumping ahead, but you still hung out on a daily basis, you had heard his statistical chattering for the majority of your life.

so, you knew it was something he found pleasure in doing, and you'd be damned if someone upset him.

you really did try and bite your tongue! but sometimes morgan's ego was too big for his body, or maybe jj gave him one too many looks for your liking.

luckily spencer can catch the cat-fight bubbling in you from a mile away; he can see the way your eyes narrow first, a disbelieving smile on your face while your exceptionally done nails tap on the nearest surface in irritation.

have you ever seen a cat when its hair stands up on the back of its neck? yeah, that's you.

all it takes is a warm hand on your naked thigh and a small shake of his head to make you huff and cross your arms, the clinking of your bangle bracelets moving along with you.

of course he'll hear all about it on the ride home.

spencer's feelings for you had always been there, but there was a difference between you being his best friend and his lover.

and honestly? that grade school intimidation that he had felt would came back.

because at the end of the day you were you, and he was him.

it was a ridiculous thought, one that you had dismissed when you had confessed to him yourself.

"do you like me back or not, spence?" you had asked out of the blue one day. "because you keep looking at me and not doing anything about it. It's kind of pissing me off."

his wide, shocked eyes met yours, practically tearing his gaze away from the book he had been engrossed in.

"i... do."

"do what?"

"yes, i do like you back."

"good."

dating wasn't all that different than being your friend, he had come to realize.

the only thing that was different was that you were sweeter than ever.

always complimenting him and buying him shit, posting him all over your social media, and even making him your lock screen.

you were so proud to be his partner, that he had forgotten what being loved out loud had felt like.

your relationship came as a shock to no one, of course.

y'all are the epitome opposites attract.

your skimp wear compared to his cardigans, your bite to his soft ask, your scoff to his chuckle.

that's what spencer's come to love. the fact that you guys are so different.

yes, you're a handful, yes you're mean to him sometimes, but like i said before:

he loves you. and that's all that matters.

[goratsseuus]

noco swap au yap and extra art under the cut

cody in this is still the same geeky hopeless romantic he is originally just edgier and much more of a hater

his tech smarts make him think hes better than everyone else

hes basically the worst possible teenage boy you can think of

noah is again still the same snarky sarcastic person he was but more genuine and charismatic

and hes nerdier now because i want him to be

[hairyjocktf]

Filling the Roster

Aidan was just starting his second year at university. The summer home with family had been exhausting and he was pumped to be back on campus with everyone and to get back to his routine. Ever since going off to college he’d been trying to work on himself, including going to the gym for the first time in his life. He’d gotten into a good routine his freshman year but hadn’t managed to gain much muscle yet, to his dismay. He was hoping to change that this year. The first day of classes had been a snoozefest, just reading syllabi and some uncomfortable ice breakers, so he was ready to get out of the classroom and into the gym again.

He walked into the campus gym and glanced around to see what was open. He noticed what looked like the wrestling team in the back, hogging all the squat racks and making their presence known with obnoxious grunting. Making a mental note to avoid that area today, Aidan went over to the treadmill to warm up. He’d always been on the nerdier side growing up, and while he did have a year of exercise under his belt now, he still didn’t fit in with that kind of crowd. Aidan put in his earbuds and got to it, the next hour flying by as he did a mild total body workout to ease himself back in.

Satisfied with himself for the day, he grabbed his water bottle and headed to the locker room. Normally he hated changing here and would just walk home first, but he had a club meeting that evening and he didn’t have time to go all the way back. He walked in and was immediately assaulted by the stench, the room absolutely stunk of BO and sweat. Yeah it was a locker room but this was a bit much, he thought as he breathed through his mouth. The wrestling guys had evidently finished their workouts too, as the room was noisy from all their chatter and yelling. They’d left their gear scattered all over the benches and floor, leaving hardly any room for anyone else. Aidan rolled his eyes and squeezed his way through the chaos to an empty corner. Despite working out for an hour he hadn’t sweat much, he never did, so he skipped the shower. Midway through changing he realized the room had gone silent. He turned around to check if the wrestlers had all left but instead was greeted with a sight that made him freeze.

The entire team had gathered behind him and now stared at him. The biggest guy, who Aidan recognized as their captain, Beau, broke the silence.

“Hey pipsqueak,” he said with a shockingly deep voice for a college student, “We found out today we’re down a man this season. We gotta solve that ASAP, y’know?”

Aidan was confused and intimidated. “Uh… Sorry to hear that man,” he said with a crack in his voice. He took a step back only to hit the wall of lockers behind him.

“Yea it’s a real shame ain’t it,” the wrestler took a step towards Aidan. “It’s a good thing I’m a great recruiter,” he laughed to himself. There was an almost sinister grin plastered on his face. 

Aidan felt cornered, realizing that he was standing there in just his boxers. “What do you want with me dude?” He asked frantically as the wrestlers slowly closed in on him. The putrid stench in the room was only getting worse as the jocks came nearer. 

“Like I said, we need a replacement wrestler,” Beau replied, pulling a yellowed jockstrap out of his bag that was on the bench. “I think you’ll enjoy getting to know the team.”

Aidan’s heart was pounding through his chest, he didn’t know what they wanted with him but he knew he needed to get out NOW. His fight or flight (mostly flight) instincts were kicking in. He looked past the wall of jocks to the door of the locker room, about 20 feet away. Before he had a chance to act, two of the wrestlers pounced. They grabbed Aidan’s arms and held him in place as Beau walked up to him.

“What the fuck, let me go!” Aidan cried in distress, struggling against his captors. They were bigger and evidently much stronger than him, not letting him budge at all.

“Hush now, I think you have some real potential here, I’m just going to let that all out,” Beau told Aidan before grabbing his boxers and ripping them off. Aidan’s flaccid cock was on full display, as were the paltry few hairs he called his bush. 

“Well, I’ve seen worse,” Beau chuckled to himself. He took the dirty jockstrap in his hand and pulled it up Aidan’s legs letting it snap into place around his small member. 

“Let me go!” Aidan yelled, continuing to try and break free from the jock’s hold. 

“Just give it a moment,” Beau said, kneeling down to look closer at Aidan’s groin. Aidan’s struggling lessened as he noticed a strange sensation coming from his crotch that was seemingly getting more intense every second. It felt… good almost. No, it did feel good, it was almost like he was jerking off without even touching himself. He felt his dick start to harden as the sensation of pleasure grew.

Beau laughed, “There you go man! I knew you’d come around.” Those words barely registered in Aidan’s ears as he stared at his dick, watching it grow erect and push against the jockstrap as his body was flooded with pleasure hormones. It felt incredible, like his dick was growing harder than ever before. It in fact was, growing steadily past his previous five inches, reaching seven, eight, as it really started to tent the jockstrap. A tingling feeling arose within Aidan’s crotch at the same time as Beau leaned in to take a closer look.

“Aww yea, look at those pubes start to come in. Fuck that’s hot.” He watched as dark hairs sprouted out of Aidan’s mostly bare crotch, like thick weeds shooting out of his skin. Aidan groaned as the sensation of hair growing added to his already euphoric state. Hairs continued popping up across his groin, filling in denser and denser as they spread out. “Looks like our man’s goin’ through puberty right in front of us,” Beau said as he rubbed his hand through the sprouting bush. Aidan’s body shivered in pleasure, Beau’s touch seemingly encouraging more hairs to push out of him. The pubic hairs grew longer and curled together, climbing up the shaft of his now massive cock. Beau grinned as he noticed Aidan’s balls swelling, growing to the size of eggs, then tangerines as they stretched his sack and hung lower. That was just the beginning, as the same thick dark pubes wormed their way out giving him a thick coating. At this point the jockstrap was barely covering anything. Aidan’s now nine inch cock stood completely erect, tenting the fabric and letting his new bush explode outward. Those thick pubes were starting to produce their own musk, not too dissimilar from the general stench of the locker room. The hairs spread out even farther, beginning to climb up above his waistband and onto his stomach, as well as spreading to his inner thighs with a thick rug. Aidan hung in the jocks’ arms nearly limp, his cock dribbling precum like a faucet.

“Well I think this has served its purpose,” Beau said to himself as he pulled the jockstrap off Aidan, letting his thick cock snap up against his stomach. The flow of precum soaked the area around his navel, and where the precum had wetted his skin, more thick hairs began to crop up. Beau went back to his bag and exchanged the dripping jockstrap for a wrestling singlet. It was damp from sweat and being stuffed in Beau’s dank gym bag, and stank to high heaven. With the help of the other wrestlers, Beau got the tight singlet onto Aidan’s lanky body. It didn’t really fit, but there was an enormous bulge from Aidan’s recent developments. He pulled the shoulder straps and let them snap down onto Aidan’s bony clavicle. That immediately pulled Aidan out of his subdued hormone-fueled slumber. 

“Oh, god, oh, oh what the fuck,” he said, processing the past few minutes. Part of his brain was still in adrenaline mode, telling him he needed to BOLT, while another part was content with this situation, elated even. The longer he breathed in the musky air of the locker room the louder that voice became, and the more he wanted Beau’s hands back on him. He looked up away from his own body and made eye contact with Beau, a grin crossing his stubbled face.

“You already look good in that singlet man, it won’t take much now,” Beau told him. Aidan’s mind was running at light speed but his mouth was not on the same wavelength. 

“What are you-, why are-, how the-,” Aidan was trying to get his thoughts out when the pulsing, pleasurable sensation began to return. His words trailed off as he looked down at his own flat chest, watching with wide eyes as two muscular pecs began to push out. He felt his whole body begin to tighten as muscle started popping out all over. Pronounced bone disappeared under layers of thick muscle that began to fill out his form, and the singlet. What had previously been impressively slack for a spandex suit was now taught against his body, expanding as he did. His pecs grew sore as they continued to grow, blocking Aidan’s view of his lower half as they packed on size. On the new horizon of his chest he noticed something, tiny hairs were poking out of his mountainous pecs. They started small and slow but quickly began shooting up all across the vast expanse of his chest. The hairs itched as they grew in, Aidan wasn’t bothered, he was in awe at the forest that was engulfing his new muscles. He ran his hands through the growing hairs, pulling gently on the hairs as they continued their advance across his chest, working up towards his neck and down across his stomach. As the hairs matured they grew darker and curlier, tangling into a thick rug across his pecs. Beau watched Aidan become enraptured by his own jockification. He noticed a growing wet spot in his groin where the precum continued to leak out constantly.

Beau stepped back up to Aidan and planted his hand on his chest, feeling the growing fields of hair. That alone was enough to get a soft moan out of Aidan, putting a devilish grin on Beau’s face. He pinned Aidan’s growing frame against the locker before raising one of his arms up. What he found was underwhelming; a handful of light wispy hairs scattered across the armpit. That would have to change. He stuck his hand into his own sweaty, hairy pit and rubbed it around, coating his fingers in thick jock sweat and musk. He sniffed them just to make sure it was potent enough, and his body was never slacking in the sweat department. Taking his moistened hand he went back to Aidan’s nearly hairless pit and massaged the sweat in. Within moments he felt little prickles of stubble against his fingers. Beau saw dark pinpricks appearing across Aidan’s pit, spots that quickly erupted into thick, wiry hairs. The original wispy hairs grew dark and curly as the sweat did its work, and soon Aidan had a respectable amount of hair under his arm. But that wasn’t enough for Beau, he dug out some more musky sweat from his own pits to finish the job. Soon enough Aidan’s pit hairs completely coated the area, even reaching out to connect with the pelt on his chest. Beau’s fingers were combing through the thick hairs, gently tugging on them and pulling out more growth. Aidan moaned again; the feeling of Beau’s hands stroking his growing pit hairs was euphoric. He was slipping more and more from his old self as his body grew to love this new reality, the jock voice in his own head growing louder.

Beau was satisfied with the pit situation after he was able to smell Aidan’s newly produced stench from a distance. He stepped back and watched as Aidan’s body continued to adjust to the singlet. In the same way his pecs had ballooned, his arms began exploding with size. His delts, triceps, biceps, and forearms grew intensely sore as they put on years worth of bulk in moments. Aidan was finally starting to look like a wrestler who could hold his own on the mat. The definition on his new muscles was quickly hidden as hair began to sprout across his boulder shoulders and down his arms. What started as a few hairs popping up across his shoulders grew into a flood of dark hair that surged down his arms, and the singlet left it all visible for the crowd. The hairs continued growing denser, curling around each other as the hair began to resemble fur on his bulky arms; he would look like a total beast of a man in action. Aidan’s hands got the same treatment, his palms grew bulkier as his hands stretched out in size. He could hear the popping sounds of his growth but was too flush with hormones to care, barely registering the thick hairs growing on the backs of his hands. Beau could already tell Aidan was going to become one of their best wrestlers, with his immense size and build. All he needed was to let the inner jock blooming inside of him take control.

After the growth in Aidan’s arms slowed down, his legs picked up the slack. His quads beefed up, thighs nearly shredding the singlet with their girth. Beau watched as Aidan’s bulge twitched and leaked as his legs grew longer and thicker than they’d ever been. His feet began to stretch and grow, expanding to a size 15 before becoming covered by hairs. Those hairs raced up his calves and onto his thighs, leaving him with a thick fur coating for his tree trunks. Aidan had grown to the point where he could take most of the jocks on the team, almost rivaling Beau’s height and mass. Beau knew he’d made a good call with Aidan, he’d been so similar before he joined the team. He couldn’t help but rub his hands over Aidan’s furry legs, feeling the coarse hairs run through his fingers. He could feel Aidan’s heart rate increase. He almost felt envious of him, experiencing immense growth like this was a once in a lifetime event, and he knew Aidan was almost complete.

Aidan groaned as his body fully filled out the singlet, stretching it to its limit with his massive muscles. The fur that had coated his body felt incredible rubbing against the fabric, keeping his cock at full mast, pressed against the singlet so everyone knew. Beau looked him up and down; Aidan had the body of a tank, a heavyweight champion, but a severe case of babyface. Beau had an idea, he went back to his grab and grabbed his mouthguard. It was grimy and had a couple hairs stuck to it, but it’d do the trick. He grabbed Aidan’s pudgy face and opened his mouth, shoving the guard in. Aidan sputtered as he gagged on old spit and wiry hairs.

“Aw, the hell bro what was that,” he complained weakly. Beau smiled, he was already speaking more like a jock, and that voice was getting deeper. He watched as an Adam's apple pushed out of Aidan’s neck, cementing his new rugged voice. Aidan’s face started to darken a shade as the shadow of thick stubble spread across his jaw. It quickly pushed out, brown hairs coating his face. They grew longer and thicker, with more popping up between old ones, giving him an incredibly dense short beard. Aidan moaned as the hairs spread across his jaw and up his sideburns to his hair, which gained some lighter highlights and shortened into a more athletic style. His upper lip erupted with the same thick hairs, giving him a full short beard. His jaw squared up and his eyebrows grew bushier, before his ears grew and stuck out from his head more. He finally looked fully like a champion wrestler. Aidan stroked his hands through the dense growth, finally pushing him over the edge. His breaths quickened and grew louder as he climaxed, grunting as cum erupted out of his thick cock. It pushed through the fabric of the singlet, pouring down the front of it. The euphoric trance he’d been in began to fade, but the old Aidan was gone. He was Aidan the wrestler, a jock ready to conquer his path on the mat. Instinctually he flexed, showing off his beefy arms and hairy pits. The scent emanating from his pits matched the rest of the locker room now, and he took a big whiff of it out of habit, that manly odor really turned him on. Beau laughed and grabbed Aidan’s hand, pulling him upright. His cum was still dripping down his singlet onto the floor, adding to the pungent scent of the locker room.

“Welcome to the team bro,” Beau said, looking forward to their best season yet.

[stardust-thief]

meet cute

an: this is not very spiderman-esque + it kinda sucks😭 but i have brainworms im thinking of so many ways the bau cld be part of this au

synopsis: your best friend, penelope garcia, gets you to meet spencer reid, who unbeknowest to you is seceretly spiderman, 1.7k words

cw: just fluffy meet cute, a little rossi slander im sorry, mentions of tobias hankel but its pre-lizard, bc tobias hankel is the lizard in this au, not proofread at all

masterlist

“Pen, are you sure this is a good idea?” Your best friend, Penelope Garcia, whom you loved with all your heart, was meddling again. She had taken notice of the fact that you are a workaholic and would prefer to spend your days researching for your newest article, than literally anything else. Deciding this was completely against the criteria to be friends with her, she has taken you to meet some of her friends. Namely, Spencer Reid. You didn’t know much about Spencer other than the fact that he was a great photographer and an even greater nerd. Said affectionately, you literally do nothing but work, how nerdier can you be.

“Are you kidding me? This is a perfect idea! Both you and Spencer are basically hermits, my thinking is that two hermits cancel out each other's hermit-ness and you’ll both bloom into beautiful social butterflies! Maybe I’ll finally get to see my best friends outside for once. Or maybe that’s too big an ask.” She grabbed your arm to make sure you couldn’t back out last minute, and all but dragged you into the little cafe you were supposed to meet this elusive Spencer at.

The cafe wasn't one you familiar with, preferring to stick with the one adjoined to the Daily Bugle building. This one had booths lining the walls, and a vast glass counter full of the most delicious pastries you’ve ever seen. The one at the Daily Bugle served only stale bagels, and made you sit in those hellish latticed garden chairs that do no good things for your comfort. 

You watch as Penelope’s hawk eyes scan the cafe, “ok so, he’s not here yet. I promise you he hates being late, just sometimes something will just come up and- he’ll show up! Go get a seat, I’ll order something for us.”

“Ok, I can do that.” You say as you turn to move towards an open booth seat. Penelope was a generally anxious person, this was something you've grown used to after knowing her for so long. But whatever that was back at the counter was a lot more anxious than strictly necessary. True, being late to a first meeting was not a good first impression. Also true that the later he is, the later you will be in getting back to the office, meaning another late night working to finish your article. But it's not the end of the world! Yet!

Penelope interrupted your doom-thinking by placing a tray full of various coffees and pastries on the table. “I got your favourite,” she says as she pushes the warm coffee towards you and sits on the opposite side of the booth, “I wasn’t sure which pastry to get so I got… many.”

“Many is a word I would use, yeah… It’s fine Pen, we can all just take some home. Have you heard anything from your friend?”

She gives her patented dramatic sigh, “Ugh, Boy Wonder says he’s on his way. Wait, forget I called him that. Spencer Reid is on his way, he says he apologises for his tardiness.”

A loud bang catches your attention as a tall man, who looks like he’s ran a marathon to get here, slams the door to the cafe open a little too hard, rattling the wall decor and capturing the attention of literally every person in the shop. You watch as his eyes sheepishly scan the room until they land on Penelope. He gives an equally sheepish wave and hurries to sit down next to Penelope.

“Spencer, what the hell was that?” Penelope mutters, and you watch as they devolve in an argument at the volume of mice. You sit there awkwardly, sipping at your coffee as you wait for them to remember you’re there.

“Ok, Spencer!” Penelope starts, “this is my friend, who has been waiting here very patiently, might I add.”

Spencer’s eyes turn to meet yours, his eyes are a warm and deep brown that reminds you of coffee. You notice the slight bloodshot twinge he has, and the dark, heavy bags that sit under them. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in at least 2 weeks, leaving strong stubble clinging to his lower face.

Out of habit, you raise your hand to shake his and introduce yourself, “Hi Spencer.” It takes a moment for him to realise you have your hand raised, and he rushes to meet it.

“Hi, I’m really so sorry for being late, that was so rude of me, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” you hear Penelope give a mocking laugh as if to say ‘you never apologise to me like this'. Ignoring her, you notice that his hands are calloused and rough, littered with small bruises and nicks that leave you questioning how they got there. Noticing this he's quick to retract his hand, “sorry, I work in a lab so I get all kinds of cuts from the machines. Um, what do you do?”

“I work as an investigative journalist for the Daily Bugle.” The Bugle has a bit of a reputation due to its owner, D. Rossi, who is known to be an avid anti-spiderman fanatic and is constantly making up theories to defraud and belittle him. But you’re too proud of your work to let something like that stop you from talking about it. At the mention of the newspaper, however, you watch as Spencer shoulders tense up and he shoots a sidelong glance at Penelope.

“The Daily Bugle! Yeah, I used to send in my photographs for them sometimes.” Spencer breathes out.

“Really? What articles were they published in, I might’ve seen them!”

“No um, Rossi kept rejecting them so I never got them published.”

Oh. Good job. “Yeah, he can be a bit tough sometimes. I’d love to have a look at your work, maybe I can try and get something published along with my articles?” You offered this as a nicety, but you’re also genuinely curious to see what kind of work he’s done.

“That would be really nice actually, I’d appreciate it. What are you working on now?”

“An article on the research Dr Hankel is doing at Oscorp, he’s taking lizard DNA and attempting to splice it with human DNA to modify our genes. He’s hoping it can help humans regenerate lost limbs the same way lizards can. It’s fascinating stuff, but I don’t think it could work.” Especially seeing as Dr Hankel seems to have about 12 screws loose, interviewing him was not one of your preferred research activities. 

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about that. My boss at the lab says it could be amazing if it works. It just has to work first.” He chuckles and begins picking apart the pastry in front of him. “So, you don’t agree with Rossi’s whole anti-Spiderman tirade?”

You hum, “not really. I mean, I think Spiderman is doing a great thing by helping protect the people of this city, but I also think he has a lot to answer for in terms of damage to properties, and livelihoods. But I definitely don’t think he deserves the scrutiny he gets from Rossi. Without him, what would New York do?”

He visibly relaxes at that, maybe he’s just a Spiderman super fan, there are probably worse things a person could be. You all get wrapped up in conversation and fail to notice the hours passing by until a worker comes up to your table and lets you know it’s nearly closing time. 

“God, we’ve been here all day. I need to get back to work, finish my article before my deadline tomorrow.” You say, rushing to stand up and leave. Spencer rushes to stand up with you.

“You’re working overnight? Surely that can’t be safe.”

“It’ll be much less safe if I don’t hand this in to Rossi before my deadline.” You chuckle, “I’ll be fine, I’ve done the bulk of it, not much more to do now!”

“Let me walk you to your office, it’s getting dark out.” Out the corner of your eye, you see Penelope wiggle her shoulders and wink at you.

“No I can’t ask you to do that, it’s not too long of a walk.” It is such a long walk, you’re just lying. “I’ll get to the office before the moons even out, don’t worry about it. Penelope, thanks for organising this, I had a lot of fun.” She pushes out of the booth set and wraps you in a big hug.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came! It’s good to see you away from your desk for once. Don’t stay up too late, ok, go home and get some rest at an appropriate time. No later than 4am ok?” She holds you by your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes until you agree. “Good, take some of these pastries with you, you’ll need the sugar.”

“Thank you Penelope, I promise I won’t stay too late.” Pastries in hand, you turn to Spencer again. God his eyes were so deep. “It was really nice to meet you Spencer, maybe we can do this again sometime. As a group I mean, all three of us.” Real smooth! The idea of hanging out with Spencer again made you excited, but the last thing you want to do was come on to strong.

His eyes widen slightly and he rocks back and forth on his feet. “Yeah, I would love to do this again, all of us. It was lovely meeting you as well, please stay safe.”

You smile at him and turn to leave, beginning the long walk back to the offices of the Daily Bugle. The many steps in your way do nothing to stop the giddy feeling in you.

Unbeknownst to you, after Spencer walked Penelope home he slipped into a dark alley, pulled on his spider-suit, and started swinging himself across New York until he found you walking to your office. After following you from the rooftops, making sure you were safe, he noticed that you had in fact lied about how long it took you to get back to work. He made a note to ask more firmly if he could walk you back next time, especially when it was getting so late. Once you were back in the Daily Bugle, he waited and waited until you were finished with your work to escort you back home.

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie with a s/o who wears glasses? He would tease them for being such a nerd but he’s the more nerdier one in the relationship. Imagine the glasses get in the way of when he tries to kiss you also yk how in his intro he smashed that alarm clock I bet he’s done that to your glasses once in a while. Not his fault he has super strength

Cute!! As a glasses wearer myself, I love this request! Thank you ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for the glasses), CW blood, CW injury. FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Your heart is hammering against your chest, pulse quickening, eyes wide and hands sweaty. Despite your nerves, you lean in. Hobie inches closer to you, hands cradling your face, warmth fanning across your searing cheeks. He looks confident, a giddy smile on his lips, piercings shining from the porch light. He's stunning, and always so suave, but you have no idea the effect you have on him.

He looks past the lens of your glasses to gaze at your eyes, eyes that are blown out, eyes that look at him with adoration. If only you knew that his mind is a slurry that is full of thoughts about you, you, you, and you. You make his entire world light up with just one look that he's more than happy to bask in.

Hobie loves your glasses because he can see how lovestruck his reflection looks whenever he stares at you. He loves how gorgeous you look in it too. He once joked that you look like a sexy librarian, and now all your flirty comments are book or library themed which sometimes make him laugh and fancy you more with your dorky attempts at flirting. He wouldn't have it any other way though.

You two have been on exactly three dates together, all of them being so successful that it always has you giggling and kicking your legs the second he drops you home. All of those three dates are a culmination of tonight, the second he asked you if it was okay for him to say goodbye with a kiss, you did not hesitate to say yes at his proposal.

Hobie closes the remaining distance, index finger tapping on your cheek for one last permission. Your smile says it all, and he presses his lips against yours eagerly. Too eagerly in fact that your glasses squish your face and your eyelids, acting as a barrier. If your eyes weren't closed, your glasses might've poked your eyes out.

The nose pads poke the bridge of your nose uncomfortably, but you're way into the tender kiss to lean away. How could you stop kissing him when the kiss is better than what your daydreams could make up? Hobie senses how you try to breathe through your nose, and how you move your head to the side slightly so your glasses don't stab through your searing skin. Still holding your face, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip, he chuckles at the lopsided glasses on your face.

Eyes wide, you wonder if you did something wrong for him to laugh. Hobie stomps on that feeling quickly by gently fixing your glasses for you.

Hands on the side of it, grin still spread across his kiss bitten lips, he taps your now foggy lenses. “Sorry, your glasses are all fogged up because of me. All my fault, love.” He jokes and you laugh, the simple giggle has him wanting to kiss you again.

“It's alright, I got a kiss from it.” You tease back, he beams at you, and you can tell he wants to kiss you again. Or maybe it's just you thinking with all the sweet fog of affection blurring your vision? “Do you want to fog it up again? Y’know just in case it ends up clean this time.”

“An experiment then?” He shrugs, doing the bit with you. “For science then.” He kisses and kisses you until there's no breath in your lungs, and you kiss back until he has to hold onto the doorknob for balance.

—

Watching a movie while cuddled up to a thick blanket is great. Watching a movie with Hobie for the first time in his houseboat while cuddled up to him is so much better though. Rain bangs on the roof, adding to the cozy atmosphere. Hobie pulls you closer as if you weren't already close enough to him. Hip to hip, legs on top of his legs, you press your cheek on his bicep, glasses wonky from the position, you yawn into his jumper, snuggling impossibly closer.

Hobie sees how sleepy you are, of course he noticed because he hasn't even looked at the tv screen for ten minutes now. He was too busy memorizing your expressions whenever something happened in the movie. Your glasses reflect the screen anyway, so he didn't miss much of the movie.

“Bored?” He squeezes your hand that has been intertwined with his own under the blanket since the movie started.

“No, tired. This movie is just too long.” You peer at him through heavy eyelids, lashes stuck together from how you keep rubbing your eyes. “Why didn't they just ride the eagles in the first place?”

Hobie couldn't help but peck your forehead, you can feel his smile against your skin. “How ‘bout we finally sleep then? So you'd stop slanderin’ this perfect movie.”

You scrunch up your nose, glasses lifted up from the movement. “It’s a good movie, Hobie, but it has some flaws—” You joke, he shakes his head and then flings the blanket over your head.

“Alright, enough from you.” He pauses the tape, and then throws away the blanket into a pile in the corner of the settee. You would think he was annoyed by your comment but his grin and outstretched hand says otherwise. “C’mon, love, let's head to bed.”

You look up at him with a pout. “But I want to keep hanging out with you. Like a real sleepover.”

“A sleepover is for best mates,” he flexes his fingers, “we're clearly not just best mates.” His words make you all fuzzy inside. “D’you want to braid my hair and put a face mask on me just like in sleepovers or somethin’?”

“Can I paint your nails too?” You ask teasingly. In truth, you just want to talk to him longer. Because you know once your head hits the pillow that has his scent all over, it's light's out for you.

“Of course, love.” You finally take his hand, “as long as I pick the colour.”

—

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch, you chatted through the night, and with a few smooches here and there, you slept like a baby in his arms.

Hobie wakes up with a start, his alarm clock blares loudly into the quiet of his room. Not wanting to wake you up with the loud ring, he quickly punches blindly on his bedside table. Something cracks under his knuckles, yet the ringing still doesn't stop.

“Shit.” His breath hitches in his throat. Carefully prying himself off you, (which he didn't want to do) he peeks over the table. Lo and behold, his fear just happened, he has crushed your precious glasses under his fist. Glass is littered all over the table, shards upon sharp shards falling off his hand. The frame isn't any better, it has bent into a fist shape, looking like a truck drove over it. Damn his enhanced strength.

You wake up with a snort, the harsh ringing of the alarm still echoes in your ears. With one eye open, Hobie's toned back greets you.

“Oho good morning to you too.” You poke the small of his back.

Instead of a smile, he frowns at you. A second later, you see the cause of it. Hobie holds up your broken glasses by the tip of it, you can barely recognize it from how mangled it looked. Eyes wide, you see that his hand has shards of glass sticking out, palm starting to bleed.

“Holy shit.” You sit up, taking his wrist gingerly.

“‘m sorry, love, I thought it was the alarm.” He says sadly.

“I've got a spare, Hobie,” you almost chuckle at his tone if not for how genuinely sad he sounded. “Besides, your hand is bleeding. Where's your first aid kit?” He's astonished at how nonchalant you took the news of him breaking your glasses in two. He points towards his bathroom, before he could stop you, you're already halfway across the room.

—

Your spare glasses now sit on your face as you dab antiseptic on the small cuts. He watches on with the same sweet gaze, you're absolutely concentrated on his hand, making sure that every cut is properly cleaned. The wounds barely hurt now thanks to you. He sighs loudly to get your attention.

“You okay?” You ask, bandaging the last cut.

“Better now—” Hobie clamps his mouth shut when you begin to kiss his fingers. The intimacy of it all has him melting with every kiss from you. You can feel how his pulse quickens since you're holding on to his wrist, thinking his injury has him all worried. You clearly have no idea the effect you have on him.

“There, all better.” You look up at him to see a rare flustered Hobie. A smile spreads across your lips, “I can tell you feel better now.”

“You kiddin’ me? A little bit of a warnin’ next time, love.”

“Okay, I'll tell you before I start kissing you.”

“...‘m gonna kiss you now.” He declares. Cradling your face, you laugh and nod an approval. Before he leans in, he places his hands around your glasses. “Can I take this off? Don't wanna accidentally fog it up again, or worse.”

“Okay, just kiss me already, Hobart.” You could barely finish the sentence before a laugh escapes from your throat.

“Usin’ my government name and everythin’ huh?” Carefully taking the glasses off, you welcome the sudden blurriness, it adds to your anticipation. “So bloody rude of you. Guess I have to kiss the rudeness off of you.”

[mysterioushistorian]

and finally, the last redesigns are here! as always, headcanons are under the cut :)

Lowbloods

Midbloods

Ardata Carmia

been getting a lot better due to her moirallegiance with marsti

doing what her heart desires

still kind of bloodthirsty though

lynera's crazy matesprit (crazy just like her)

the mediiia adores me

marsti may be immune to her psychic powers, but she's not immune to her charm

amazing video editor

?????? Elwurd

irdc abt her so whatever

is over her ex

is there even much to say about her?

has been getting into music too. she plays the guitar.

Mallek Adalov

hackerman sk8erboy, obviously

has a blog for coding advice

nerdier than ever

loves diemen

can play ping-pong pretty well.

Remele Namaaq

buy her arte

great friends with charun and is on good terms with amisia

has been getting into acting as of late

can take someone in a fight

is that a pirate?

aside from acting, also knows a lot about movie directing and illumination

just loves art in general

Amisia Erdehn

still makes her own paint. yep.

actually finishes her projects now. no empty canvas or half done paintings

likes to hide in chahut's hair

been trying out digital art too

aint you too young to use chittr?

Galekh Xigisi

aspiring writer

hates tagora's bullshit, but loves him anyways

please cite an entire wikipedia article

a teacher! finally

reading is great for you, young wrigglers.

wears an expensive watch

Nihkee Moolah

still a muscular theater champion and master of muscular arts!

during her free time, she records videos for grub tube. she does workout exercises for women

WE CAN DO IT SISTERS!

is that a nike shoe

Zebruh Codakk

still the same, that's all you need to know.

Marvus Xoloto

engaged to fozzer velyes. he loves that man.

there are hidden messages about troll marxism in his songs now

welcome to clown town, motherfuckers. honk honk :o)

treats karako like his son

chixie's moirail. he cares a lot about her and hates it when other highbloods take credit for her songs

Chahut Maenad

still loves to scrapbook

might need a bigger room for all those heads she collect

praise the mirthful messias, motherfuckers

whoever invades skylla's ranch has messed with her

big fan of moolah's grubtube channel

Karako Pierot

HONK!!!

bronya is his adoptive mother, marsti is his grubsitter (as much as she hates it)

marvus is like a father figure to him

just a sweet, sweet soul in this cruel world

can juggle now!

Barzum & Baizli

still share everything

still are the same

are circus ballerinas now,

culling tactics didn't change

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Obx Headcanons Part 1|What Gifts to Give them

Any gender, SFW, romantic or platonic, no warnings (except JJ and Rafe by themselves?)

—Header from saradika-graphics—

JJ:

Get him a new surfboard, surfboard polish, a surfboard stand— ok, we get it, he loves surfboards. 

A new pair of sunglasses or a skateboard would also send this man crazy.

(And if we’re being honest, he’d love a nice shiny new gun 😂.)

He’s likely to be pretty chilled out about receiving gifts, unless his inner child happens to be out and he starts running around the house like your dog when they get the Zoomies.

Kinda like this.

Rafe:

(Help, it keeps autocorrecting to Rage.) 

Rafe would be surprised to get a gift from you in the first place, but don’t take his awkwardness as him being ungrateful. 

He’d appreciate anything you get for him (hopefully) and try his shot on finding something for you as well. It’ll be store-bought but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

As for what to get him, let it be anything but cocaine or alcohol. We all know the reasons why this is a bad idea. 

Just find him a nice tie or fancy ring, and he’ll be perfectly happy. Cologne, anyone?

Kiara:

Kiara, whether you’re a friend or dating, would be super grateful about receiving a gift no matter what it is.

In the case that she doesn’t like it, which isn’t likely, well, at least there’s the gift receipt. (Right?)

She’d love some handmade jewelry or something crafty, possibly something nature-related per her activist persona. (Maybe a small wooden whale to place on her nightstand?)

If it’s jewelry, you can expect her to wear it every day of the week and show it to her friends —(“Guys, look at the ___ y/n got me! Isn’t it gorgeous?”)— whilst taking good care of it.

Pope:

Pope is probably one of the best when it comes to gift giving— He’ll be chill with a smile on his face, polite as he always is.

Really though, he’s grateful. If you’re dating, don’t be surprised to see a blush on his face. On second thought, he might blush anyway out of embarrassment.

A nice book or a quality pack of pencils is all you need to make him happy.

If you’re leaning away from the nerdier side, how about a new hiking backpack or a fishing rod?

John B:

Awkward about receiving gifts? Yes. Happy though? Also yes.

He’d love a surfboard like JJ or something that reminds him of his friends. That’s part of the spirit of Christmas, isn’t it?

A picture frame of his closest friends, a bracelet with your names on it, or a photo album of all you guys waving to him will hit right home.

Booker is John’s middle name, so he might just book it on out of there he’s so emotional— no? Nevermind.

(Side note: don’t buy him a gun like JJ.)

Sarah:

Sarah is the best at receiving gifts— case closed. She’s the sweetest thing ever; the only thing she enjoys more than recieving gifts from you are giving them. True beauty of Christmas.

Sarah will literally squeal with delight when she opens the beautiful gift you’ve wrapped just for her. Expect hand-written thank you cards sent to your address.

Cute jewelry, a stylish new sweatshirt, or her favorite box of chocolates fit her vibe.

Have a blast shopping for/with her for the holidays!

Cleo:

Gotta include my fave girl boss!

Cleo will take anything you gift her to heart. Trust me, this woman will never let an act that means so much to her go to waste.

Cleo’s gotta admit, her new friends grew on her. She’ll treasure that present of yours forever. A hug or a thank-you card good enough for thanks?

Make her something with the shells from the beach or a glamorous woven-style bag to feel unique and extra-special to her ❤️

Ooh, don’t forget about some sharpening tools for her knives~

[corroded-hellfire]

Jack & Coke - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs

Summary: When your best friend Eddie betrays you, you head to The Hideout for a drink—and maybe something more.

Note: This is what comes from late night conversations and texts that say “I had another angsty eddie thought.”

Warnings: angst, family issues, smut, p in v, age gap but both parties are well over 18, oral, m receiving

Words: 4.8k

“And then you put your middle finger riiiiight here,” Eddie explains patiently, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he adjusts your grip on the guitar neck. “Perfect. Now, give a little strum.”

The A-chord doesn’t sound as good as when he plays it, but it’s an improvement since you’d started this impromptu lesson half an hour ago.The fact that butterflies flapped their wings in your stomach every time he touched you didn’t help your concentration, either. 

“I still like it better when you play,” you tell him shyly, lifting the guitar and handing it back to him. “You’re, like, a natural-born rockstar.”

Eddie grins, leaning back against your bed. “Yeah, well, you can’t teach this kind of bad-assery,” he teases, booping you on the nose playfully and inadvertently sending a shockwave of shivers down your spine.

You’re about to muster up the courage to nudge him back when you hear the front door open.

“I’m home!” Andrea shouts obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes. You miss the initial flash of fear that washes over your best friend’s face, mistaking his grimace for a mutual dislike of your older sister.

You know that everyone has issues with their siblings; even ones that are close-knit still have their share of rivalries. But your relationship with Andrea goes beyond the usual bickering. Since you were very young, Andrea has bullied and tormented you incessantly. As kids, Andrea would break her old toys and tell your parents that you did it, that way they would buy her newer and better toys. From the moment that Andrea hit puberty, she was the “hot one.” Never mind not being the “pretty sister,” you had to deal with being invisible because all eyes were glued to Andrea. Then you practically were invisible when you started high school and Andrea pretended she didn’t even know you. It didn’t matter that you’d never ratted her out for all the times she snuck out of the house after your parents went to sleep. But any little thing you did wrong, Andrea went straight to your parents and snitched. It probably wouldn’t have mattered if you squealed on your sister anyway since she was quite obviously your parents’ favorite.

When boys did talk to you, it was because they wanted to get to your sister. Some of them thought treating the little sister as a charity case would get them into Andrea’s pants. The only time it was ever different was when Eddie Munson started talking to you your freshman year. He plopped down next to you at your lunch table and started talking to you about the copy of The Hobbit you had been reading. At first you thought this was another ploy to get to Andrea through you, but the longer he talked about things far nerdier than the book in your hands, you figured this guy might actually just want to talk to you. It was an odd and gratifying feeling. The first time you’d mentioned that you were Andrea’s sister, Eddie actually seemed surprised. “You two share blood?” he said. “She’s a goddamn tornado that destroys everything in its path. And you…you’re like a rainbow.” It’s the greatest compliment you’ve ever gotten. 

As your friendship with Eddie grew, you began to tell him more about how Andrea treated you. How she’d hurl the meanest, most vile words your way with no provocation. You didn’t need to provoke Andrea, she was constantly on the offensive. “Why does she treat me like shit all the time?” you’d ask, and Eddie would reply, “She doesn’t need a reason. There’s just venom in her blood.” 

Andrea was the walking embodiment of those luminescent fish that were so beautiful and shiny on the outside, only to lure the smaller, weaker fish in so that it could crush them. Her jet black hair was always shiny and never a strand was out of place. No blemish ever dared to appear on her skin, leaving her with the smoothest, most glowing complexion. Her curves seemed to be perfectly sculpted, defying anyone to not look at her and either want to be her or want to be with her. Obviously, it was impossible for you to keep up with her current flavor of the week. 

“Are you going to play for me?” you ask as Eddie just sits with the guitar in his lap. You scoot until your thigh is pressed up against his. It would be so easy to tilt your head and rest it on his shoulder. The comforting scent of cigarettes, Old Spice deodorant, and a hint of weed floods your senses as you try to be as close to him as you can—without being creepy about it, you remind yourself. 

“I, um,” Eddie mumbles, his eyes watching your bedroom door intently. “I thought you said your sister wasn’t going to be home?”

“I didn’t think she was,” you say with a shrug. “But you know Andrea, she does whatever the hell she wants. Maybe she met her quota for making children cry today and decided to come home early.” 

Eddie nods and looks back down to the guitar in his lap. He swallows so loud that you’re able to hear it, which has you raising your eyebrows. 

“Look, I know she’s demonic,” you say. “But she probably doesn’t even know we’re in here. Besides, if she was going to torture someone, it would be me, not you.”

“I don’t want her to hurt you. I’d rather she hurt me, actually,” Eddie says, still looking down at the guitar in his lap. More words rest on the tip of his tongue, but the bedroom door flying open stops him. 

“I said, I’m—oh, hi, Eddie,” she trills, giving a tiny wave. “Come back for round two?”

Round two? You glance over at Eddie, waiting for an explanation, but he just turns beet red and sheepishly drops his gaze. 

Andrea takes in the puzzled look on your face and laughs harshly. “Aw, did your best friend not tell you?” There’s nothing but malice in her tone, and you feel like a rock landed in your lower abdomen. “Well, let me fill you in.”

“N-No, I should…” Eddie starts, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I swung by yesterday…I forgot you’d picked up that extra shift…”

Andrea rolls her eyes impatiently. “Write a goddamn novel, why don’t you?” she snaps. “I’ll summarize: you weren’t home, I was, and Eddie and I hooked up.”

“H-Hooked up?” The butterflies now have lead wings, and you feel the bile rising in your throat. 

“We slept together,” Eddie clarifies softly at the same time that Andrea quips, “we fucked.”

You try to blink back the tears that mist over your eyes. Your sister knows how you feel about Eddie; you weren’t naïve enough to tell her, she snooped through your diary and has been teasing you about it ever since. And while Eddie has no idea about the massive crush you’ve been harboring, he certainly is aware of how awful your sister is. His betrayal stings one thousand times worse. 

“Your bed is really great for sex,” Andrea sneers as you stumble to your feet. “Not that you’d know.”

This has to be a nightmare. You’re going to wake up at any moment, and the idea of Eddie and Andrea sleeping together will be a figment of your overactive imagination. It has to be, there’s no other explanation. But when you glance down at Eddie and see the shame that fills his face, you know. It’s real. Your best friend betrayed you in possibly the worst way he could have done so. All to get his dick wet.

“What the fuck?” It’s all that you can get out of your mouth. You suddenly feel like you’ve run ten miles. You’re lightheaded, your pulse is racing, and sweat is beginning to break out along your hairline. Eddie sets the guitar down and stands up. He reaches for you and you flinch away and pull back from him. The look of hurt that flashes in his eyes would normally make you want to wrap him up in your arms. But now? Now that you know that he fucked your sister in your bed, you don’t want him to ever touch you again. 

“Sweetheart, I’m—”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you snap. Looking past him, you can see your sister’s face is full of glee as a self-satisfied smirk settles on her lips. “What was in it for you, huh? Just to hurt me?”

Andrea scoffs and brings a hand up to her chest, reminding you of a southern belle clutching her pearls. “Are you insinuating that I don’t have feelings for dear Edward?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Yeah, Eddie, you want to say, that’s the girl you slept with. 

“I would never insinuate that you have any feelings at all. Pretty sure you were born with a lump of coal in your chest instead of a heart. Come here, I’ll stab you with my letter opener and we’ll see the black blood come fucking rushing out,” you seethe. 

“Always so dramatic,” Andrea says with a sigh. “That must be why Eddie doesn’t reciprocate the silly little crush you have on him.”

Eddie’s eyes snap to you, and at any other time, you would’ve said him finding out is the worst possible thing to happen to you. But that’s been usurped now, so you really don’t care how he’s going to react. 

“Must be,” you retort, “or maybe he’s only into psycho bitches.” Clenching your fists, you turn to face Eddie. “I hope her pussy was worth it.” You storm over to your bedroom door, pushing past the both of them. Before you leave, you spin around to face the traitors. “I never want to see either of you again.” You don’t wait for either to respond; you just grab your bag and rush out to your car. 

You’re not sure why you drive to the Hideout; maybe it’s because you still want the comfort of Eddie, but you tell yourself it’s because the drinks are cheap and payday isn’t until next week. 

“I’ll take a Jack & Coke, please,” you tell Lou. The bartender nods, and you add, “you can put it on Eddie’s tab.” He is the reason you’re drinking, after all. 

The thought of their bodies melded into one, him holding her the way you’d only dreamed he’d hold you—it’s too much to bear. And now, like an idiot, you’d left them alone to do it again. 

Lou slides your drink over with a small smile, the most affection you’ve ever seen from the usually stoic man. You down the drink, and then another, frowning when you get the urge to break the seal. 

“Be right back,” you mutter to no one in particular, hoisting yourself off of the barstool and traipsing towards the restroom. You get a decent glimpse of yourself in the mirror: eyes still slightly puffy from when you’d been crying in the car, mascara smudged and smeared. A flick of the makeup wand has you looking a bit perkier already, and you practice your smile a few times before walking back out. 

Lou has another drink ready for you, cocking his head towards the other side of the bar. “Paid for by that gentleman over there,” he informs you, raising his eyebrows. 

You look to where he’s motioning and see a gorgeous older man giving you a little wave. His black t-shirt clings to his muscular frame, and you can’t help but notice the way his biceps ripple with each small movement. He looks to be in his mid- to late-forties, but his hair doesn’t show any signs of thinning. Short brown curls cover his scalp, cropped closely at the base of his neck. His upper body is covered in tattoos, and you immediately wonder where else he has ink. 

You saunter over to him, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously, just as you’d watched Andrea do countless times before. “I guess I should be thanking you for this drink,” you say, giggling and taking a sip. 

“Pleasure’s mine,” he offers, grabbing his green Heineken bottle and taking a swig. “Looked kinda sad, and pretty girls should always have a smile on their face.”

“It worked.” You rest your hand on his bicep, surprising yourself with your own brazenness. Or maybe it’s just tipsiness?

“You gotta name, pretty girl?” the mystery man asks, and you tell him. “Pretty name, too. Damn,” he muses. “I’m Jack. Just, uh, moved back to Hawkins a coupla days ago.”

“Moved back? So you don’t need the welcome tour?” you pout, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Pretty girl, I’ll take you up on anything you offer.”

You consider his proposition. “Let me finish this drink and we’ll see.”

His hand rests on your thigh as he tells you that he’s got a job lined up at the local power plant—immediately reminding you of Wayne, but you push the feeling down. You allow yourself to get lost in his sky blue eyes, somehow both haunting and comforting. 

You kill out your third drink, contemplating ordering one more. Either Jack was paying, or Eddie was, so all you had to worry about was how drunk you wanted to get. 

“What had you all upset earlier, hm?” Jack asks, running his thumb along the denim above your knee. “Don’t tell me it’s some stupid boy.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you then.” You giggle again—you can’t seem to stop giggling around him. “He’s not worth the time.”

Jack shakes his head. “He’s not. You don’t need to play his games. What you need,” he says seriously, “is a real man.”

“And where can I find one?”

His lips crash against yours hungrily, gently parting them with his tongue. He tastes like the hoppiness of beer and stale cigarettes, but you don’t mind. 

“That tour you mentioned earlier,” he murmurs in your ear, “can the first stop be my place?”

You give him a pout, leaning forward into his space, just enough for him to get a peek down your shirt. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

Jack looks around the bar, doing a doubletake when he sees the bathrooms in the back corner. He slides from his seat and takes one of your hands in his. There’s a smirk on his face as he walks backwards towards the bathrooms, tugging you along.

“Just as impatient as I am,” he says. “We shouldn’t wait any longer then.”

Without taking notice of if it’s the men or women’s room, you follow Jack in as he nudges a bathroom door open with his elbow. He’s quick to lock it behind you and his hands are instantly on you, grabbing at your waist as his mouth finds yours again. The kisses are urgent and sloppy, no teasing, just devouring one another. Your hands move down to his beltbuckle, making quick work of it and working on the button of his jeans. Strong, large hands grope over your chest as you shove his pants down, but just as you break from the kiss to get down on your knees, there’s a loud banging on the bathroom door. You’re startled and grab onto Jack’s arm, and he’s quick to wrap it around you reassuringly.

“Not in my bar!” Lou shouts through the door. 

Well, you think, can’t show my face at The Hideout again. Your face is burning in embarrassment as Jack huffs an awkward chuckle and resituates his belt. 

“I guess my place is the first stop on the tour then. That is, if you still want to?” Jack’s eyes meet yours, obviously wanting to convey that if you’re no longer interested, that’s fine. But a little embarrassment was nothing compared to how you felt earlier in the day.

“I want to,” you say. For emphasis, you grab the back of his neck and give him a kiss that proves how much you want him. When you pull away, there’s a dazed smile on his face that may be the most endearing thing you’ve seen all day. He takes your hand in his and slowly opens the bathroom door. Luckily, Lou isn’t standing on the other side of it, but you’re sure he’s not far off, watching to make sure the two of you leave. 

You force yourself not to look over at the bar as you and Jack head towards the door. It’s not like you think the bartender will tell anyone, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at the moment. Jack’s car isn’t the nicest, but that’s not something you ever cared about anyway. If it gets you from point A to point B, that’s all that matters. The gentleman that he is, he holds the passenger’s side door open for you and you slip inside. He practically runs around to the driver’s side and it makes you let out a soft giggle. When’s the last time someone seemed this eager to spend time with you? And seem to be genuinely enjoying it?

The ride to his place is only about five minutes, and Jack makes sure you stay in the car until he can come around and open the door for you again. The apartment complex isn’t the nicest either, but what was in Hawkins? His place is on the first floor and you watch his hands as he fumbles with his keys. They’re large, calloused, from what you can only assume is years of work. Staring at them just makes you want to have them all over your body even more. 

As soon as he swings the door open, he’s all over you again. Frantic kisses keep his lips connected to yours as the two of you clumsily make your way to his couch. The material is worn, but not dirty, and you find yourself once again fumbling with his belt as he sits on the cushions.

“Picking up where we left off?” Jack teases, throwing his head back in ecstasy as you get back on your knees and take him into your mouth. The saltiness of sweat and pre-cum hits your tongue, his cock edging towards your throat when he brings his hands to the back of your head and helping you find the perfect rhythm.

“J-Jesus Christ,” he hisses, bucking his hips slightly and watching the tears involuntarily pooling along your lash line. “First time back in that dive bar in years, and I managed to find the girl who gives the best head in Hawkins.”

As if to prove his point further, you cup his heavy balls as you lick up and down his shaft. You keep at it for a few minutes, swirling your tongue around his overly sensitive tip before he pulls away.

“You’re good–too good; but ‘m not gonna lie to you,” he admits when you stare up at him with a puzzled expression, “I don’t bounce back as fast as those college guys you’re probably used to, and I gotta be inside your pussy tonight.”

You nod, tugging your shirt above your head as he helps you shimmy out of your jeans. “Like what you see?”

Jack doesn’t answer right away; just unhooks your bra and watches it fall to the floor. His gaze immediately snaps back to your bare breasts, beckoning you over to straddle his waist. His hard length presses against your lace panties, and the two of you moan in tandem.

“I don’t think you need these,” he mumbles, running his thumb over the lace before tearing them off completely. His middle finger easily finds your clit as he makes slow, deliberate circles.

You can’t help the way you grind against his touch, begging him to stretch you so good. The finger drags through your folds before he slips it inside you.

“So wet already, hmm? Pretty girl must need another finger.” You cry out in pleasure as his forefinger breaches your hole, pumping faster until you feel the familiar tension building in your core.

“N-Need your cock inside me,” you manage, barely able to formulate a thought, let alone a coherent sentence. 

He reaches into the pockets of the pants he discarded and fishes out his wallet to grab the foil-wrapped condom tucked away. Your eyes watch hungrily as he slips it over his cock, fucking his fist a few times to make sure he’s ready for you. His other hand grabs your waist and helps guide you until you’re hovering over his cock. Slowly, you begin to slide down, both of you letting out a groan as he first enters you. The stretch feels so good and from the way Jack’s squeezing his eyes closed and biting at his lower lip, you’d say it feels good for him as well.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Gives the best head and has the tightest pussy.”

Your only response is a whimper as you lower yourself even further, letting more of his cock fill you up. Once you no longer need your arms to steady yourself, you brace your hands on Jack’s chest. When your hands meet the fabric of his shirt though, you frown. Unable to form words as he finally bottoms out inside you, you tug at the dark material of his shirt, hoping he gets the hint. Reluctantly taking his hands off of you, he maneuvers out of his shirt and tosses it on the floor with his jeans. Most of his chest is covered in ink and you find your eyes trailing the different designs as you rock your hips back and forth. You slide your hands down to rest on his abdomen, since there’s no tattoos there, and you can get a better view of the artwork above. A snake is curled near his right collarbone and a little beneath that there are some sort of wings, but you’re not sure if it’s meant to be an angel, a bird, or something else. On the left side of his chest there is a bird, and it looks like a crow. There’s also a small “E” down near his heart that you can only assume is for an old girlfriend. 

Jack starts rocking his hips up to meet yours and it has your mind completely forgetting about the tattoos as you close your eyes in pleasure. His hands feel rough where they rest on the skin of your waist, but it feels so good when he slides them around to the front and grabs your breasts. You give a particularly hard thrust of your hips when his thumb grazes over your right nipple. There’s a breathy chuckle below you as he sees how sensitive you are to his touch. 

“Feel good, huh?” Jack asks. Breaths becoming more shallow, you nod your head. That’s not good enough for him, though. He gently pinches your nipple, just enough to get your attention, not enough to hurt. “Use your words for me, pretty girl.”

“It’s good,” you say. “So fucking good.” 

“Tell me how it feels.”

“So deep,” you say through a moan. “You’re so big. I feel you everywhere.” It’s true. He’s definitely the largest you’ve ever been with, and in your position, it feels like he’s splitting you open. His arm wraps around your middle as he adjusts himself so he’s sitting up more, your faces closer together this way. As your eyes slip closed again, his lips settle on yours, licking into your mouth hungrily. His teeth graze your bottom lip and it causes you to moan into his mouth. 

“You’re close,” he says. It’s not a question, but a bonafide statement; he already knows your body all too well. “Cream my cock, pretty girl. Just let go f’me.”

The coil snaps as he thrusts into you harder and faster than before. He spills into the condom with a groan of your name but doesn’t pull out right away. You keep him inside you as the two of you catch your breath, coming down from your highs.

“I should go,” you murmur, realizing that there is no way in hell that Andrea won’t rat you out for coming in late and smelling of sex. “Could you give me a lift back to the Hideout so I can get my car?”

Jack nods, discarding the used rubber in a nearby waste bin as you get dressed. You start to look for your underwear before remembering how he destroyed it, and it has you getting wet all over again. 

He kisses you one last time in the bar parking lot. “Sorry I couldn’t stick around for round two,” you tease, “but maybe I’ll catch you here another time?”

“I sure fuckin’ hope so.”

You’re in your bedroom a few days later, frantically searching through your cassette collection for your favorite AC/DC tape. It’s not in the “As” section, where it would normally be, and you realize with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’d left it at Eddie’s a few weeks ago.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter. He was the only one allowed to borrow it–you’d gotten it signed by Angus Young when you saw the band in concert, and it meant everything to you. You needed it back.

The drive to Eddie’s trailer seems to fly by, now that you’re dreading facing him. You knock on the door once to no answer, but his van is parked in front, so you knock again, louder this time.

“I need my AC/DC tape,” you snarl as soon as he opens the door.

He rubs his face, combing his fingers through his hair. “Can I drop it off later? And then maybe we can talk?” he asks meekly.

“No.” You shake your head and put out your hand. “Go get the tape and give it to me now.”

Eddie glances around the trailer nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Look,” he starts, “now’s really not a good time…”

You scoff. “Why? Are you fucking another one of my family members? A cousin or something?”

A brief look of hurt flashes across Eddie’s face. He shakes his head and looks down at his feet before meeting your eyes again. “No. No, I wouldn’t…” he trails off with a sigh, sensing it’s useless—and he’s right. “My dad’s here.”

That’s one of the last things you expected to come out of his mouth. Your eyebrows raise in shock as you stare at him. Eddie hadn’t seen his father in years. Didn’t want to, according to him, no matter how many times his dad reached out. The relationship was tumultuous to say the least, but you felt you never had the right to offer any advice since you couldn’t relate to his situation. And Eddie never asked, so you weren’t going to say anything. 

“Your dad?” you ask, just wanting to clarify. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He keeps speaking, but movement in the trailer behind him catches your eye. You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing what you think you are. An airy giggle bursts out of you, drawing both the attention of Eddie and the man in the living room—Eddie’s father, apparently.

“What?” Eddie asks, brow furrowing in confusion. He looks behind him to see his dad, then back to you, unsure of what is making you laugh. “What’s so funny?”

Eddie’s dad stares at you, eyes widening as he comes forward to stand next to his son at the door. The shit-eating grin on your face must be confusing both of them, but it’s wholly impossible for you not to find this whole situation highly amusing. 

“Eddie?” his dad asks. “How do you know the pretty girl from the bar?”

Your ex-best friend’s gaze shoots to his father, head moving so fast that the curls whip around his head. Seeing them next to one another, you can see the resemblance. About the same height and build, same nose, and both covered in ink. Their curls are roughly the same color even if one has brown eyes and one has blue. 

“W-What?” Eddie asks, looking from his dad back to you.

“Hi, Jack,” you say, giving the older man a wink. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Eddie asks, the color draining from his face. You wait a beat while the realization sets in. “She’s…he’s…” He turns back to you. “You fucked my dad?”

You laugh, shrugging as you reply, “Guess so.” You waltz past your bewildered friend–ex-friend– grabbing Jack’s hand as you lead him back to Eddie's bedroom. 

“Wanna help me look for my tape?” you ask, hooking a finger through his belt loop and you bring your lips to whisper in his ear, “and maybe we can see about that round two?”

Jack grins, grabbing a handful of your ass as he follows you. “Looks like we found the next stop on our tour.”