#but they are as close to the real thing as my non-drawing behind will get
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INDEBTED
Summary: When your father's scandal threatens your family's legacy, Rafe makes you an offer you can't refuse.
Paring: Rafe Cameron x KookFem!Reader
Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact
Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Choking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.
Word Count: 4.8k words
Author's Note: 1000 followers! Wow, I never thought I'd reach 1000 followers. A part of me believes that half of these are bots, but regardless, to those who are real and have decided to join me in my little corner of the Tumblr woods, thank you. Your love and support, especially during these trying times, means a lot. I had this one shot sitting in my drafts for a while and thought I'd finish the damn thing and share it as a thank you. But heed those warnings : it's a dark one. Much love to you all ❤️
Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.
Embezzlement.
What a weird word.
It rolls off the tongue with an unfamiliar bitterness. It's the kind of term you'd see in a crossword puzzle, nestled between "clandestine" and "malevolent." You never imagined it would be splashed across news headlines with your family's name and the face of your father in the centre.
For years, your family was among the shining stars of Figure 8, leaders in hospitality, prestige, and wealth. Your home was the epicenter of elegance, the heartbeat of social galas. But now, news vans line the perimeter of your estate, their cameras hungry for a glimpse of the fallen dynasty. While online vultures, under the guise of investigative websites, sift through every chapter of your family's history.
Naturally, it caused a ripple, and as the waves of the scandal crashed onto the shores of Figure 8 with relentless force, family friends who once sought your company now wrestled with their association to yours. The 'friends' who once envied your galas and soirées now whisper behind closed doors.
It was the talk of every gathering. At lunches, tennis courts, even the marina; your family’s name was whispered with a mix of pity and sensationalism. Every disclosed detail, every leaked piece of evidence, threatens to shatter the glass pedestal upon which your family once stood unchallenged.
Yet, amidst the tempest of rumors and glares, your mother remains the eye of the storm. Resolute and graceful, she doesn't waver. The titan of Figure 8's social scene, she's always known how to command a room, and this scandal won't rob her of that gift.
Tonight, at the Midsummer ball, she's an emblem of defiance against the rising tide of whispers. And she does it so effortlessly. She glides through the crowd with that same charismatic charm. She smiles warmly, asking about children and recent vacations, pets, and passion projects, extending olive branches even when met with frosty receptions and curt replies.
You, however, are not as composed. The weight of judgmental gazes is too suffocating, the murmurs too piercing. The confines of the ball, with its glittering chandeliers and faux smiles, become a prison. With each passing moment, the walls seem to close in further. You need air. A moment of solitude. An escape from the suffocating pretense.
Whispering a quick excuse to your mother about needing the powder room, you slip away. The soft hum of the party fades behind you as you venture down a paved stone path, leading to the beach. The cool breeze and rhythmic waves provide solace, a stark contrast to the stifling ambiance of the party.
You had taken off the flower crown your mother had insisted you wear and were about to remove your shoes when you heard it: the soft crunch of footsteps on sand, drawing closer.
Hesitantly, you turned, finding him. The one whose eyes often sought yours in a crowd. Whose lingering gazes you'd always felt but habitually ignored. The same person who continually asked you out, oftentimes rudely and crudely. The one you had rejected, rebuffed, and shut down more times than you could count.
Rafe Cameron.
"Came to rub salt in my wounds?" you asked, unable to mask the bitterness in your voice.
"Now why would I want to do such a thing?" Rafe murmured. He pulled a joint from his pocket, placing it between his lips. The soft flicker of the lighter momentarily illuminated his face, revealing a brief smirk before the darkness cloaked him again. "I thought you might appreciate some company instead."
The word 'appreciate' ricocheted around your mind, sounding almost absurd in this situation. Company? From Rafe Cameron? The notorious Kook King of Figure 8, a classic case book narcissist who, you were certain, had probably raised a toast to the scandal engulfing your family. At this moment, you'd rather eat glass than accept his sympathy. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the sea, barely acknowledging his presence.
“I'm not in the mood to talk, Rafe," your voice steady but seething with restrained frustration. Your eyes remained locked onto the undulating waves before you. The smell of sea-salt filled your nostrils, and for a fleeting moment, you felt at peace. It lasts all of two seconds before Rafe opens his mouth again.
"Fine, I'll talk. You listen," he asserts, as he settles against a rock. He leisurely inhales from his joint before blowing out a plume of smoke into the night air. You can feel his contemplative gaze on you; it becomes evident in the softened timbre of his voice when he speaks again. “You know, it's downright shitty what they're doing to your dad. To your family. To you... I can't stand by and watch."
A scornful laugh escapes you as you finally meet his gaze. "Well, life's not exactly handing out fairness certificates, is it?"
He shook his head, "No, it isn’t. But, it still doesn't make it right. It doesn’t make it fair when your dad claims he’s innocent—”
“My dad is innocent,” you assert fiercely, standing tall, arms crossed defiantly over your chest.
“Oh, I believe he is. But the world? Not so much. Your dad’s always been good to my family. My old man took it hard when he heard. I mean, of all the people on Figure 8 to be arrested for embezzlement, your dad was the last person anyone would suspect—”
“What's your point, Rafe?” You snapped, clearly about to lose the last shred of patience you had.
"I’ve been thinking about it alot, and maybe my family can help.”
Skepticism etched itself clear as day on your face. It seemed ironic that Rafe felt his family could help when Rose and Ward shunned your parents the moment the news broke.
“And how do you propose to do that?" you asked, your voice tinged with mistrust.
Rafe shrugged, a casual gesture that contradicted the gravity of the situation. "My dad, he's got connections—”
“So do mine,” you shot back.
“But did yours play golf with Senator Whitfield every Saturday? Rain or shine? Nah, didn’t think so.”
You felt a moment of silence envelop you both, the distant murmurs of the sea a constant reminder of the world moving around you.
"Alright, I'll bite," you said with a lick of your lips. "What do you want in return? You're clearly not doing this out of the goodness of your heart."
Rafe flicked his joint onto the sand, extinguishing it with a deliberate twist of his shoe. As he stepped closer, moonlight illuminated his eyes, giving them an almost predatory glow.
“You've got me," he admitted, his smirk devoid of warmth. “I do want something in return. Something that has been on my mind. Something I’ve wanted for a long time now. You."
A shiver raced down your spine, a cocktail of revulsion and trepidation. Retreating a step, your voice quivered but remained defiant.
"So, you're after a date?" You clarified, eyes narrowing. The same date he'd pestered you for, relentlessly, over the past year. The same date you'd denied him repeatedly, because despite being handsome, Rafe Cameron's moral compass seemed nonexistent.
Rafe scratched his ear as he moved slowly toward you, his expression pained as though what he was about to reveal would hurt him far more than it would hurt you.
"Yeah, see, a date won't begin to cover what I'm risking for your old man, given his rap sheet is longer than my arm. No, what I want is far more... rewarding," his voice sank to a sultry whisper as he towered over you.
"And what would that be?" you asked, tension crackling in the air between you.
"I want to be able to fuck you whenever and however I want—for a month, maybe two, perhaps even a year..." he shrugged slowly, "The specifics are negotiable, but doesn't that sound fair? A little pussy in exchange for your dad's freedom?”
The slap was instinctual. Swift. The sting on your palm matched only by the shock on Rafe's face. For a split second, everything was still.
Rafe's eyes turned to steel, his demeanor shifting chillingly in a heartbeat. He closed in, his voice a venomous whisper slicing through the salty sea air. "You must have a death wish" he hissed, an unmistakable dangerous edge to his words. His hand gingerly brushed his reddening jaw, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. "Your dad's freedom? It's dangling by the thinnest thread... The right words from a senator could decide whether he walks free or becomes someone's bitch behind bars."
He paused, his gaze falling to the flower crown in your hand. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out to touch it, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate petals, an almost gentle gesture that was jarringly at odds with the tension of the moment.
"If you want to help your dad, having a friend like me might be your best bet." he murmured. "Think it over, yeah?" His gaze lifted back to yours, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Fuck you, Rafe," you whispered, disgust fueled your retreat as you stormed away, his chilling laugh echoing ominously in the night air.
"You will, princess. When you come to your senses, you will."
Rafe's lingering words pressed on you, growing heavier with each breath. The looming possibility of your father's life behind bars became ever more ominous as Rafe presented a potential solution—a solution with an inconceivable price tag.
How could he even insinuate such a thing? The mere suggestion repulsed you, igniting a fury at Rafe's audacity. Yet the unease gnawing at your belly made you question: to what lengths would you go to save your dad? With your family facing disgrace and teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, Rafe's proposal offered a faint glimmer of hope, even if it took the ugliest of forms.
In the solitude of your bedroom, the pristine walls seemed to close in, just like the midsummer ball. Picking up your phone, you stared at the screen, the bright white light harsh against the dim setting. The contacts list stared back, an overwhelming list of names, none of whom had reached out during your family's time of need.
You scrolled, hesitating briefly before landing on Rafe's name. A whirlwind of emotions — from anger to desperation — consumed you as you pressed on it. Trembling fingers typed, deleted, and retyped a message multiple times, finally settling on the simplest of words.
"We need to talk."
Almost immediately, three dots danced on the screen.
"Tomorrow 7pm, Tannyhill.”
Was Rafe’s curt response.
You could barely sleep that night, as your mind raced, forming what you hoped was a semblance of a plan. You needed to negotiate on your terms, to retain some shred of dignity. It wasn't a detailed strategy, but it was enough to at least get through Rafe's offer with your sanity.
The next day as you approached Tannyhill, you whispered silent affirmations to yourself, reaffirming your resolve, your worth, and the necessity of your mission.
And then, there he was. Rafe Cameron, leaning casually against the frame of the ornate door, a picture of wealth and arrogance, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in the impending darkness of the evening.
Rafe opened the door for you, his face betraying a flicker of something you couldn't quite read, but there was no turning back now. You stepped in, ready to negotiate with the devil himself if it meant saving your family.
"Where's everyone?" you asked, there was no point in exchanging pleasantries. Nothing about the situation was remotely pleasant.
"Movies. You know, I hadn't expected a text from you so soon." his voice dripped with condescension, "I was betting on at least a week or two."
"Yeah well, it is my dad's life on the line," your footsteps echoed with purpose as you followed him into the living room, eyes steeling for the battle ahead. "The sooner we finalize our agreement, the quicker you can pull whatever strings you have, right?"
Rafe spun around, his gaze locking onto yours. The sly curve of his lips unsettling. "Sure, I’ll make a few calls,” he stated, voice dark and sardonic, "but it'll depend on the terms we agree to."
"Alright…” you braced yourself, your arms folded trying to regain control. "Let's start with how lon--"
“A year,” Rafe cut in, not breaking eye contact.
"That's out of the question. A month," you shot back.
His chuckle resonated with an underlying seriousness, his eyes narrowing in focus "Sure, we can say a month. You willing to fuck me at least twice a day? No? Then eleven."
You straightened your back, your resolve hardening. "Two months, tops."
His eyes gleamed as he considered your counteroffer. "How about this, we keep our little arrangement going until your dad's free. It could be a month, maybe two…” he shrugged nonchalantly “It might even be a year. It depends on how soon he’s out. What do you think?"
You hesitated, visibly weighing the implications of such an open-ended commitment. Your dad’s charges were serious. The chances of those charges disappearing and him being released in a month seemed like a miracle. "What if it drags on for years?" you whispered.
Rafe’s grin grew more pronounced, relishing your distress. "Well, princess, that's for you to decide. You can always walk away whenever you think it’s unbearable. Does that seem fair?"
"Okay, fine. Now about condoms--”
“Not using them--”
“Oh, we’re using them. I’m not interested in having your kid, Rafe, and I’m certainly not interested in catching anything from you.”
“While I should be fucking insulted” he said dryly “I always glove up and get tested regularly too.”
“Okay, so why are you suddenly against using condoms with me, then?”
“Because I promised myself…” he said slowly, his voice lowering as he made his way towards you, “If I ever got the chance to fuck you, I'd do it raw.”
Your jaw clicked, your hands itching to slap him again. “Weren’t you fooling around with Letizia a couple of weeks back?”
“Yeah, so? I was gloved up.”
“I don't care. You've slept with half the girls on figure 8. I want you fully tested before we even think about doing anything. Condoms every time, no excuses.”
“Alright. I’ll get tested. Condoms while fucking, no condoms for blowjobs.”
"Yeah, about that, I'm not doing oral.'” you said folding your arms in resignation.
Rafe's eyes bore into yours, annoyance coloring his features.
"No. No. You don’t get to dictate how I fuck you." he snapped, his voice taking on edge of authority. "Look, i’m willing to let you negotiate a few terms, give you some semblance of control but it’s got to be worth my while, and for it to be worth it, I get to fuck you how I want, when I want.”
You swallowed, feeling your resolve waver.
"Now, here's what I want to make this deal work: when I call, you answer. No matter the place, no matter the time. You show up. Clear?" Rafe said.
You paused before giving a hesitant nod, the magnitude of your agreement dawning on you.
"And if I ask you to wear something specific, you will. No questions. We have a deal?"
Your throat tightened as his demands began to overwhelm you, but you managed a brief nod in response.
"Remember, fail to meet my terms, and our deal ends. Understood?"
Another nod.
"Anything else?"
“When will you make the call?” you asked quickly.
“After our first session,” he proposed, his smile revealing a hint of anticipation. “After that I’ll do whatever I can to make sure your dad’s free”
" I want proof. I want proof that you’d stick to your part of the deal.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”
“Good." you said as you took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Get tested and send me the results," you responded, you're tone neutral, treating it as a standard business transaction. "I'll do the same. We can then choose a time and date."
Rafe nodded in agreement, his gaze intense and piercing.
You extended your hand towards him.
"What's that for?" he chuckled lowly.
"A handshake. To seal the deal."
Rafe reached out, his arms enveloping you in a firm yet tender grasp, pulling you against him. It took everything within you to not push him away.
"How about we seal this deal with a kiss, hmm?" he murmured, "Especially since we'll be doing a lot more than kissing very soon."
Rafe leaned in, letting his lips graze yours. But you stiffened, instinctively tilting your head so that his lips met your cheek instead. A soft chuckle escaped him as he retreated just a fraction.
“Ah ah” he chided. With his fingers gently but firmly cradling your jaw, he directed your face back to his, an unsettling tension growing palpable between you.
"Play. Nice.” he whispered, his voice considerably smug. "Kiss me. Like you mean it." It wasn't a mere request; it was a command that left you feeling completely cornered.
A battle of wills ensued; neither of you making the first move, both of you waiting for the other to blink first. Rafe's eyes never left your own as he leaned in once again, his determination clear.
His tongue gently pushed past your parted lips, and you allowed it, setting off a delicate yet conflicting dance between your tongues and lips.
Groaning into your mouth, his eyes shut as the kiss deepened, carrying an undeniable intensity. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping at your tender flesh until his tongue lashed hungrily against yours sending a peculiar mix of tingles and dread coursing through you.
Finally, you pulled away from the kiss, catching your breath while your chest heaved. Rafe remained close, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breathing matching your intensity.
"I'll get tested first thing tomorrow," he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and desire. "Make sure you do, too."
"All clear."
That was the message Rafe sent you two days after your heated conversation, accompanied by a screengrab of his test results. Without hesitation, you replied, sending him your own results in return.
As your fingers tapped across the screen, a surge of disgust washed over you. The very idea of being intimate with Rafe was anything but appealing; it fact, it made you feel sick.
You'd never choose Rafe of your own volition. Sure he was handsome but his excessive drinking and drug habits were repellant, and his disdain and bullying nature towards the Pogues was disturbing. None of his qualities were remotely attractive, let alone fuckable.
But then, the stern, resilient part of you asserted itself, urging you to focus on the goal at hand.
This was not about you or Rafe; it was about orchestrating your father's release from prison, a critical mission where failure wasn't an option. With this clear objective ingrained in your mind, you steeled your resolve, preparing yourself for what lay ahead.
When he proposed meeting up that same night, you didn't find it strange given Rafe's impulsive nature. However, the location he suggested did catch you off guard.
It wasn't Tannyhill, the somewhat familiar and comfortable place you had anticipated, but instead, an unfamiliar address. The randomness of the location set off tiny alarms in the back of your mind, making you wary but you took a deep breath, quickly typing out your response-
"I'll be there."
It wasn't just any random address, as you initially thought.
At the front of a gated tree-lined drive stood a prominent sign declaring, “Cameron Developments.” The freshly poured concrete and stacks of lumber clearly indicated that it was a home under renovation.
As you made your way along the winding path, unease gripped you, but the sight of Rafe’s truck haphazardly parked near the entrance reassured you that you had indeed reached the right place.
The estate was draped in an unsettling darkness, punctuated only by the soft chirping of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl, and the sporadic glow of work lights from inside, hinting at the ongoing renovations.
Exiting your car, you took a moment to absorb the scene before approaching the house. With each step towards the porch, your heart rate quickened. But before you could even announce your presence, the heavy door groaned open, revealing the looming presence of Rafe.
His expression, obscured by the shadows and dim work lights from within, gave away nothing. Without a word, he stepped aside, allowing you to enter, then closed the door and locked it.
A knot formed in your throat, a cocktail of dread and adrenaline. Pushing the mounting fear aside, you gathered your voice, attempting to sound braver than you felt. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said.
A wicked grin tugged at the corner of Rafe's lips. You felt an icy dread settle in your chest. "Oh, we will," he murmured, "But first, I want to play a game... to make things... interesting." The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive.
"One minute" he said, as he cracked his neck from side to side, his eyes boring into you. "You get a one-minute head start and after that, after that--" he sighed happily "I'm coming for you. Run."
Panic gripped you. "Run? What? What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean run?" you stammered, your voice edged with rising panic.
But his eyes were cold, devoid of humor or empathy. He leaned closer, his voice a menacing hiss that left no room for interpretation. "Run."
A rush of adrenaline hit you, and without another word, you sprinted past him as if your very life depended on it.
You had no clear destination in mind, only the primal instinct to run and hide. Every fiber of your being was attuned to survival. Heart pounding in your chest, you sprinted up the grand staircase, taking the steps three at a time, feeling the weight of your own desperation in every leap.
At the top, a maze of doors and hallways stretched out before you. You lunged for the nearest one, finding yourself in a dimly lit bedroom freshly painted in white. Shadows danced on the walls from the solitary work light, and your gaze immediately snapped to a closet on your right.
Without hesitation, you slipped inside, gently closing the door behind you. The smell of paint and cedar filled your nostrils. Placing a trembling hand over your mouth, you tried to muffle the sound of your heavy, ragged breathing.
Gently, so as not to make a sound, you nudged the slatted shutter doors of the closet closed, leaving only thin slivers of the room visible – distorted, but enough to keep watch.
The ominous sound of footsteps reached your ears; they were methodical, unhurried. Rafe was searching, savoring the hunt. You watched in horror as his elongated shadow, cast by the work light, drifted across the closet. A cold sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to fight back the urge to gasp as the shadow paused momentarily by the closet doors.
After what felt like an eternity, the shadow moved away, and you heard his footsteps retreating. Letting out a silent sigh of relief, you gave yourself a moment to gather your bearings. But you knew all too well you couldn't remain hidden for long; he would inevitably retrace his steps and find you.
Gathering your courage, you carefully eased the closet doors open and quickly scanned the room for an escape route. Your heart pounded violently in your chest as you made your move. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you tiptoed across the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards that might betray your presence. But the moment you stepped out of the bedroom, you collided with a solid mass.
Rafe's eyes pierced through to your soul, pure hunger reflected in them as he stared down at you. His hand clamped around your throat, pulling you close as the smell of your fear and his cologne filled your nostrils in a nauseating mix. His lips crushed against yours, ravaging your mouth with an intensity that nearly made you faint.
As your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, you frantically writhed in his grip. Your fists relentlessly pounded against his arm, trying to get him to relinquish his hold on you, but it was no use. In one swift motion, Rafe backed you into the bedroom and forcefully dragged you to the floor, your fingers wildly clawing at his arm as you searched for any type of leverage you could find.
Rafe ravished your neck with unbridled hunger, his other hand violently tugged at your skirt and panties, scraping the skin of your thighs until finding your moist center—the slippery wetness signifying your surrender to pleasure. Rafe groaned as his fingertips slid through your slick folds and into you causing you to gasp at the white-hot jolts of pleasure.
"For someone who's only doing this to save their dad, you're soaked..." Rafe laughed breathlessly, trailing a line of wet kisses up your throat. "All that sanctimonious bullshit about what you will and won't do and look at you, fucking dripping for my cock—”
"Fuck you!" you screeched, a potent mixture of embarrassment and venomous rage coursing through you has you writhing beneath him, your determination to push him off almost frantic.
"That's it—fight back," he jeered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Fight back. It'll make this all the more satisfying."
You kicked and screamed, only for Rafe to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands connected your wrists together over your head. In a single move, he flipped you onto your stomach and straddled you from behind, his erection pressing against your ass.
One of Rafe's hands tears off your panties, your screams in protest seize immediately as Rafe stuffed the flimsy cotton into your mouth.
"There" he taunted with a sinister chuckle, pressing you down further as you desperately attempted to wriggle free. You strained to let out a scream, your voice stifled by the makeshift gag.
That same hand worked feverishly to free himself from his pants. You could feel the throbbing heat of his erection at the cleft of your ass. Could hear him tearing open the condom packet with his teeth, the necessary prelude to satiating his ever-growing hunger.
Not too long after he was grinding the head of his cock against your wetness while you fought to express your protests through the gag.
"No, no, this is what we've agreed to. What you agreed to..." Rafe's breath hitched as his cock slid over your weeping slit. With one hard, raw thrust, barely allowing you time to adjust to his girth, he plunged himself deep inside you.
He wasted no time, immediately beginning his relentless thrusts, utterly indifferent to your muffled struggles behind the gag. Your body writhed beneath his weight, your movements punctuated by desperate grunts, the hardwood floor beneath you offering no mercy.
After a brief moment, Rafe released your wrists and drew you closer, his grip on your hips unwavering as he continued to drive into you with unrelenting force. Your head spun as you gradually surrendered to the powerful cadence of his movements. His hands clung to you possessively, guiding both of you in a desperate, synchronized dance. Every nerve in your body ignited, primal heat surging from deep within.
Your eyelids fluttered shut as your body succumbed to his unyielding force. Despite the freedom of your hands, you found yourself paralyzed, incapable of resisting or offering any form of resistance. Instead, you relinquished control, allowing Rafe to claim you entirely.
"I'm gonna fucking cum. I'm gonna cum. Cum with me," he growled through gritted teeth, his tempo increasing to a punishing pace.
You weakly shook your head, 'no,' your determination unwavering as you fought to maintain control over your desires. The mere thought of your pleasure becoming entangled with his, sullied and exploited for his depraved fantasies, was something you could not bear.
"Oh, you'll cum-" he sneered.
In a sudden, ominous gesture, he swiftly removed his leather belt from its loop around his pants and coiled it around your neck, pulling and winding it tightly around his fist.
"If you want to breathe, you'll cum," he snarled, pounding you with relentless force. The room was filled only with the sound of your choked gasps for air, Rafe's ragged breaths, the creak of the leather as he tightened his grip, and the rhythmic punishing slap of his hips against your flesh. You fought with every ounce of your being not to succumb to your impending orgasm, tears streaming uncontrollably from your eyes as you waged a futile battle.
The room reverberated with your agonised screams as your orgasm consumed you. Your muscles tensed and quivered beneath you, each wave of pleasure crashed over you like a violent tsunami drowning you. Your fingers clawed at the belt constricting your throat, the leather biting into your skin and to your abject horror, you were gushing around his cock as you climaxed.
Rafe fucked you harder, burying his face in the back of your neck. With a triumphant roar, Rafe's orgasm struck, and he shuddered against you, muffling his moans of pleasure into your skin as he stuffed his cock deep.
Sated and content, he collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and laboured, the condom filled with his cum. After a moment, he withdrew and shifted to lie beside you.
Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you managed to free yourself from the tight confines of the belt and the stifling gag that had cruelly silenced you. Every fiber of your being, every muscle in your body, screamed with raw pain as you gulped in fresh air, each breath feeling like a hard-won victory. Tears of relief and anguish streamed down your face, and with a shaky hand, you hastily brushed them away.
The room seemed to sway, a disorienting blend of fear, relief, and vertigo threatening to drag you into terrifying darkness.
Yet, slicing through the fog of your distress was the haunting sound of Rafe's laughter. His voice was breathless, yet unmistakably gleeful. His fingers, dampened with sweat, raked through his messy hair, highlighting his heightened state of manic exhilaration.
"Next time," he grinned, a chilling promise lacing his words, "Next time, we'll use rope."
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Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like/reblog/drop a comment would love to know what you think. Until next time ❤️
#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe smut#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#dark!rafe cameron#obx fanfiction#obx#18+ read#dirtytomatoedwrites#dark rafe cameron#smut warning
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So Blue | Han Jisung
•Synopsis: Who can you turn to in a dire situation if not your best friend? That's what Jisung thought when he texted you. Heart racing with fear that your best friend was hurt, you rush to his side. What you find however will change everything...
•Pairings: non idol Jisung x Female Reader
•Content Includes: smut, friends to lovers, strong language, mention of sexual enhancement drug, light anxiety, creampie, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating
an: photos of Han used in title graphic have been edited for entertainment purposes by me and are not real. no harm is intended in the edited pictures. also please do not take any enhancement meds without talking to a doctor for your own safety. i don't condone the behavior that's written.
Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌
The house is quiet, way too quiet when you step inside. Knowing Chan, Changbin, and Jisung for years, you know it's never this quiet when they're around and it's unsettling... Shutting the door behind you and glancing around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. So far everything looks exactly the way you left it last night after the four of you hung out. Just as you're about to walk into the kitchen, you hear Jisung start calling your name from his bedroom. Your heart races with panic and you rush towards his room, dropping your bag on the floor along the way. All kinds of awful scenarios play in your mind and when you burst into his room you half expect to find him bloody or with a broken bone, not sitting on the edge of his bed in a white sleeveless shirt and black shorts, with his legs spread sporting a massive hard-on.
"Wait, why me?" you blurt out, when Jisung explains that he needs your help. Your cheeks heat up as you steal a quick glance at the unmistakable bulge in his shorts. There's a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal that floods through you, leaving you flustered.
You're shocked, jaw practically hitting the floor. Who knew he was so… big? After all these years of friendship, you never thought of him in any other way except as your weird and talented friend. But now, seeing him in this state… It's making you feel things you'd rather deny and your stomach is flipping like crazy. Every now and then you notice that his cock twitches underneath his shorts as if it's alive, pulsating and drawing your eyes down to it again despite how hard you try not to stare. Kind of hard when something that size is practically waving “Hello” at you.
"I- I can't tell the guys this. They'd clown me for life," Jisung stammers, fidgeting as he looks at you from across his messy room. Plastic water bottles scattered, tissues crumpled on the floor—yeah, it's pretty clear what he's been up to before you got here.
"Well, what do you expect me to do, Han Jisung?" you retort, emphasizing his full name for dramatic effect.
"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been hours. I can't even leave my room. It hurts, y/n."
When he grabs at the stiffness beneath his cotton shorts and lets out a low groan, you stop breathing. Why does this have to turn me on? He's my best friend! You mentally scold yourself, tearing your gaze away. Shit, it's hot in here. Your body feels too hot all over. It's like standing too close to a blazing fire, the heat making you squirm uncomfortably.
"Ji... we need to get you to the hospital," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You've seen those commercials."
"Please, no! I can't let anyone see me. Did you forget, your bestie Annie, who also happens to be Chan's girl, works there. If she sees me, it's game over. She'll tell him." Jisung pleads, hands clasped together, desperation evident in his wide brown eyes. Those puppy dog eyes of his always get to you.
"Dude, what were you even thinking, taking Love?" you groan, plopping down on the cozy carpet with a heavy thud, completely confused by your friend's decision to take an enhancement pill.
You remember seeing those late-night infomercials a couple of years back, pushing that blue heart-shaped pill. They call it 'Love' because of the 'L0-V3' stamped on it. Basically it's like Viagra, but it's mixed with a very low dose of THC. They advertise that it does more than just keep things up. 'Guaranteed to give you the ultimate pleasure,' they say.
Jisung shrugs, watching you with a miserable expression. “I was curious if it would make masturbating feel different, better maybe? I mean it did the first 6 times. Wah! The orgasms were fucking mind blowing y/n.” He smiles and chuckles.
"Ji, oh my god! Ugh, have mercy on my ears bro." Both of you burst into laughter, but then you notice Ji wincing in pain. Your mood quickly shifts from playful to genuine concern.
"It hurts that much?" you ask, feeling awful that he's so uncomfortable.
He nods weakly, “It's not even just my dick but my balls feel so fuckin’ heavy. Like they're literally going to rip from my body.”
You cringe inwardly, fingers pressing into your ears as he launches into yet another one of his oversharing moments. His lack of filter has always been a trademark of his, but that's just Jisung being Jisung. After being friends since grade five, it's like he's incapable of holding back anything with you. You remember the day he lost his virginity, he texted you literally right after. His excitement was evident even through the phone. As a joke you got him a cake in the shape of the letter ‘V’. That was in highschool and his habit of sharing way too much is still going strong in your twenties. Only difference is this time his oversharing is doing things to you.
The dampness between your thighs, well, that's just gotta be a coincidence, right? I mean, it's not like the sight of your long time buddy sporting a hard-on is doing anything for you. It's more than likely just the frustration of being on a three-year dry spell. Yeah, that's gotta be it. It's definitely because you haven't been fucked in a long time and not Jisung himself. You give your head a shake, dropping your hands from your ears with a wry smirk.
"Ji, we've really gotta do something… before it gets worse. You don't want it to fall off." You tell him jokingly, trying to keep the mood light but you're feeling worried all over again.
"Yeah, yeah I know. You're right, but what are we supposed to do? I've tried everything, even beatin' it 11 times, and still no luck.” He says, sounding so casual about his masturbatory activities.
You let out an embarrassed groan and fall back dramatically onto the floor, while Jisung lets out a pitiful whine. You grab your phone and start searching for home remedies but after an hour of scrolling, you're still at square one. Not a single remedy seems feasible. Leeches? Nah, no way. As if either of you would go near those slimy things. And some tea from a self-proclaimed witch sounds sketchy as hell. Plus, she's halfway across the globe. It would take forever to get here, if it even would. Jisung hasn't had any luck either. Every twenty minutes You hear him curse under his breath and run his hands through his hair. You two are running out of options, and as time passes, you start to feel more and more useless.
"Y/n," Jisung whispers your name after another forty minutes of searching, his voice hesitant.
You look up at him, doe eyed and innocently chewing your lip. “Hm? What's up, Hannie? Did you find something?” With a strained grunt he nods in response looking at you intensely.
“Fuck, shit.” He mutters under his breath, almost like he's talking to himself. “My dick... It won't go down without…”
“Ji what is it? You're freaking me out. Without what?” You scramble up onto your knees and crawl over to the bed, inching closer to him, eyes full of concern.
Jisung looks like he's in absolute agony watching you crawl over to him. His emotions are all over the place, you can practically feel the tension radiating off of him when you reach the bed. His eyes are like flames, burning far too hot when he looks at you. You can see the struggle written all over his face like he's fighting with himself.
“Y/n, you're making it harder,” Jisung breathes out, his voice husky and balling his hands into fists as he tries to keep his composure.
You sit beside him scrunching up your face and like the good friend that you are, you place a comforting hand on his knee. Jisung's breath catches in his throat and a flush creeps up his neck when you touch him making him suddenly feel lightheaded.
"What do you mean 'making it harder'? I'm here trying to help you, remember?” You say, your voice soft and tinged with hurt. The pain in your voice and eyes catches him off guard. He's stammering, suddenly aware of how his words might've come out wrong.
He didn't mean for it to sound bad. You're the last person he'd ever want to hurt. But today, everything you do just seems to set him off. He's been trying so damn hard to push his feelings aside. But it's like having you in his room, despite you being here a million times before, it's messing with his head. He can't think straight. You've always been stunning to him, and yeah, maybe he's entertained some inappropriate thoughts about you in the past, but that was only once. Maybe it's the pill messing with his head but you’re making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you.
“N- no I mean, I’m grateful you're here, really love. You're the only one who can help me. I just mean… you're making it harder. Ya know?” He stammers, licking his lips nervously. He nods down once looking down at his lap before back at you and bites his lip feeling embarrassed. Your eyes flick down to his shorts and go wide when you understand.
"What? How?!" You glance down at your outfit. His black hoodie with the paint splatters that you borrowed a few days ago, paired with simple black leggings. Nothing revealing, yet you're somehow making his cock even harder than it already was.
"You're over there moaning and then you start crawling towards me on all fours. I mean, come on, how could anyone not get turned on by that? Shit!" He chuckles nervously, feeling his heart racing. He hides his face in his hands, laughing, and murmurs something when you giggle.
"You're such a perv, Ji." You tease, still chuckling as you playfully pry his hands away from his face. "Now try that again. I'm not fluent in mumbles, sorry.”
“I said… I just read that it won't go down without intercourse. Bro, I don't exactly have a girlfriend. I'm so fucked.” He sighs, sounding completely defeated.
Your smile falters when you see just how miserable he looks. It's been a while since he was last in a relationship, that was true. Probably a little longer than you, about four years now. His last one ended when she demanded he choose between you and her. She couldn't stand the fact that you would spend the night in the spare bedroom where Jisung, Chan, and Changbin recorded their music, dreaming of making it big someday. Jisung ended things with her on the spot; he wouldn't be with someone who couldn't accept his friends. Apparently she had issues with Minho too, which was probably what really did it for him. But somehow, you can't shake off the feeling that their breakup was somehow your fault, that his single status is on your shoulders.
“I'm sorry Hannie. We'll um, we can figure something out.” You reassure him, innocently rubbing his knee.
Without thinking much, your fingers gently glide over his skin comfortingly, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He's so stressed. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. You don't know what to do right now other than offer him comfort. There are no answers or solutions that you can think of to give him. All you can do is show him that you're in it together as always. You start rambling on about how you two are both probably freaking out for no reason and that everything will be fine soon. But as your fingers continue to move in innocent slow circles, Jisung starts shifting. It goes unnoticeable by you so you keep talking. It's all nonsense really, delving into something completely random and off topic in an attempt to distract him from the issue at hand, only Jisung isn't processing a single word you've said. He's far too focused on your hand.
The moment your hand landed on his knee he prayed you wouldn't move it, he prayed you would. He tried so hard to focus on anything other than the heat and softness of your hand on his bare skin. It's too much though and his mind starts to quickly wander. He freezes and tries to focus on your voice but it's impossible. Jisung can't stop the thoughts that his mind creates or the images that begin to come into focus. He's imagining your hand sliding up his thigh until it's slipping under his shorts. He can almost feel it happening, his sudden daydream becoming so vivid. In his mind's eye he can see you take him into your hands, feel you stroking him until he's a mess and spilling all over your fingers. He's fighting his demons and you're oblivious to it all. You just continue to talk all while the sensation of your hand is driving him up the wall. He can feel the sudden familiar tightening in his balls and he panics. He can't get control of his body, not with the drug still in his system.
His hand quickly comes down covering yours, stopping the gentle caress to his knee. His intense brown eyes look darker when they stare into yours. His lips slightly part and his breath starts coming out in uneven quiet bursts. The warmth of his hand seems to grow hotter, becoming slightly sweaty against yours and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You feel the subtle shift in his body beneath your touch and his legs tense up as he lets out a soft, involuntary grunt. Jisung's gaze burns into yours with an undeniable intensity that makes air feel thick and your cunt slick.
Is he about to?
You glance down at his shorts and his cock pulsates underneath. You stop breathing when realization hits you. He’s going to cum, right here, right now, all while holding your hand and looking at you. He's leaking so much precum it's noticeable even in the black fabric. A wicked scene flashes through your mind, of you sinking to your knees to taste him, taking his fully clothed cock into your mouth.
"Ah, shit! Mm!" Jisung's moans slip out and his breathing escalates as he starts to tremble all over. "Y/n," he pants out. Your name rolling off his tongue, making your whole body flush as his orgasm quickly builds, like you're the cause of it. "I... oh, shit. I'm... sorry, fuck. I can't... Help it. I'm cumming. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!”
His grip on your hand tightens and he takes a deep breath before letting out a long low moan. You're left speechless, eyes fixed on Jisung's face as he cums in his pants. His hips move instinctively upwards, as if he's fucking some unseen entity and you can't help but find it incredibly hot. It's possibly the sexiest thing you've ever witnessed and now you're more turned on than you were to before.
His orgasm hits him hard, and you can feel his muscles tighten when he lets go. Warmth spreads through your body and it's impossible not to miss the way his release seeps through his dark shorts. The fabric quickly becomes wetter as his seed flows out in thick, white strings. His cock, still concealed and hard beneath the dampness, slows its wild twitching and stills.
“God, I'm sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me. Your hand... It felt incredible and it just happened. It was like the pill ramped up the feeling.” He apologizes, letting go of your hand. His heavy breathing slows and cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and shame.
“It's ok Ji, I understand. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't thinking. I'll uh, get you a change of shorts.” You start to get up and head towards his dresser but he catches your wrist. He looks up at you with those brown sugar boba eyes of his making you shift.
“Tell me what you're thinking, y/n. Please? I'm going crazy thinking I'm weirding you out. Be honest with me please, lovely. Please?” He pleads with you.
You sigh and sit back down beside him and almost moan when the seam of your leggings rub against you. Seeing Jisung cum right in front of you, has your body feeling ultra sensitive. You're so on edge as if you've taken an enhancement pill yourself.
"I'm not weirded out, trust me," You confess, your voice low and filled with something more that you try to hide from him and yourself.
"Then how do you feel? You've gone quiet on me." Jisung probes, daring you to reveal your feelings.
“I feel fine Ji.” You say and look at his closet door. It's wide open and his clothes are all over the place inside like a tornado went through it.
“Bullshit y/n. I can tell when you're lying. You never look at me when you lie.”
Sighing you look him in the eyes and your mouth suddenly goes dry. He's not going to let this go until you fess up to him. He'll drill you with questions until you crack and that will probably make things more awkward than it already is. You don't really have a choice but to be transparent with him like you normally are.
“I'm,” You start, only for your words to trail off into a mumble.
“What was it you said earlier y/n? I'm not fluent in mumble?" He smirks, feeling so damn proud of himself and you roll your eyes.
“Ugh, fine. Fine, okay. I'm… horny. There, satisfied?” You admit red in the face. You look away fiddling with the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie.
"What else?" His voice, steady and resolute.
Your head spins back to him, caught off guard. "What else?" you echo loudly in shock. "Isn't all that enough?" He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows something you don't.
"Nah, not when I can feel you holding back," Jisung teases, leaning closer. "We're always so open with each other, but right now, there's something you're not saying."
“I…” You let out a defeated and frustrated sigh. “You turned me on.” You whisper. “The sight of you cumming. The look on your face, that fucking moan, Jisung. The way your cock bobbed from inside your shorts when you… damn it. It fucking made me wet. I've been wet since I walked in here!” You're practically yelling now, breathing heavily after releasing all your pent up feelings and he just smiles and chuckles.
“That wasn't so hard was it?
“Yes,” You say with a huff. “Yes, that actually was pretty damn hard.” You go to cover your face but he stops you.
“Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. I think that's a normal reaction. Sorta like watching porn.” He replies, chuckling.
“I suppose… but it doesn't really help your situation though.” You say feeling mortified.
The room goes quiet for a minute, the pair of you at a loss for words until Jisung breaks the silence.
“Maybe it can?”
You give him a look, raising an eyebrow in his direction. His cheeks flush and he raises his hands in a surrender gesture, palms facing outward, “Hear me out. It doesn't have to be weird. We'd just be helping each other out. You wouldn't be horny anymore and I wouldn't be hard and in pain. You're my only hope.”
“Are you suggesting that you and I… fuck?” You ask gesturing between you both. He groans in half pain, half pleasure at your words and your face heats again matching the blush on his cheeks.
“Please? Please let me fuck you y/n. Shit I know we're friends, it won't mean anything. You'd be literally saving my life. It's torture being like this. Every twitch, every movement I make… it fucking hurts like hell.” He begs, sounding desperate.
Jisung's question hangs in the air and you find yourself unable to respond. Silence ticks on for only a few seconds but to Jisung it feels like an hour. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and huffs.
"Fine, then," he grumbles, breaking the silence again. "Can you at least help me get into your car so we can go to the hospital then?" His voice is rough, but there's an underlying vulnerability to it.
Still you stay quiet, his pleas echoing loudly in your mind. He's begging for your help and you can't speak. You're torn between wanting to be there for him and the fear of the aftermath. It's never a good idea to sleep with a friend. God, how many times have there been movies portraying that, only for it to go wrong? Too many, that's the answer. You're already feeling things that you wish you weren't. This could ruin your friendship with Jisung. This isn't just a peck on the lips. You'll be far closer and far more intimate than you two have ever been. So your hesitation is valid but Jisung is losing his mind and panicking more than you are right now.
“What the fuck y/n? Are you really ignoring me right now? Look, I'm sorry I asked. Just forget it and hel-”
"Promise me," You cut him off, "Promise me that we'll pretend like it never happened."
"Absolutely, yes. I promise!" he agrees eagerly, his face lighting up as he reaches for the drawer in his bedside dresser.
Curious, you watch as he rummages through the drawer's content. "What are you up to now?" you ask, sounding amused despite the fact that the little voice in your head is screaming at you.
"Looking for a condom," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks over at you.
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Dude, even if you find one, it's probably expired or dried up. When was the last time you got some ass?"
"Oh yeah right, good point—wait! It hasn't been that long!" He whines.
Laughing, you playfully cover your mouth. "Uh huh, sure. Besides, you gave your last one to Chan a while ago, remember?"
“Shit, you're right. Now what?” He pouts looking disappointed.
“Just raw I guess. Don't really have a choice. We both know we're clean and I'm on the pill.” You shrug nonchalantly like the idea is whatever to you but your heart is beating a thousand beats per second and you're internally freaking out.
Jisung swallows hard, looking nervous in your direction. “You uh, you sure?”
“Yeah let's just do it before Bin and Chan get back. Shit would be really awkward if they caught us.” Your voice betrays your false confidence, shaking as nerves wrack your body.
“Yeah, good point” He replies with a nod, suddenly looking serious.
This is serious to him. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his weekend starting. Jisung's heart pounds hard, his palms sweating as he stares at you. Amidst the anxiety he's feeling about this, he's oddly happy. He feels lucky knowing you’re here willing to cross boundaries for him. Not everyone would do something like this for a friend, but you're different. You always have his back no matter what crazy mess Jisung finds himself in.
Despite the fucked-upness of it all, Jisung can't deny the excited flutter in his stomach. The thought of having sex with a friend is enough to give anyone major anxiety but he's surprised how well you both are dealing with it. Still, fear sits at the back of his mind. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins your friendship? This is a big deal. He's seen it play out in movies and dramas all the time and not once had it turned out well. He doesn't have a lot of options though. You're quite literally his only hope like he told you.
Jisung gets up carefully, giving you full access to his bed and watches you as you strip down to nothing. Embarrassment fills you as his mouth hangs open, in complete fascination and awe. He thinks you're unstoppable, the way you're confidently undressing like that. He doesn't know you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. His eyes find your breast and he mentally marvels over how hard your nipples are. He suddenly wants nothing more than to slip the peaks into his mouth and bite down on them until they're red and you're squirming under him. Your cunt calls to him like a siren, just as pretty and just as wet. His fingers itch to trace the contours of your body, to feel your skin beneath his touch. Every inch of you seems to call out to him.
Jisung shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he glances towards the door. "Um, so about the lights... Do you have a preference?”
"You decide, Ji.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, leaning back into his sheets on your forearms.
With a nod, he walks over to the door and locks it before reaching to switch off the light, enveloping the room in darkness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The sun had long since disappeared, hours slipping away unnoticed in trying to find a way to help your friend. A second later, the white walls covered in music memorabilia and anime posters, glow crimson from the light of the LED Akatsuki cloud lamp you gifted him for Christmas.
“There we go.” He says lightly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your heart.
Jisung's trying his best to put you at ease, and you're grateful for it, even if it's not working. You're lying there, heart pounding like a drum, with the soft red glow of his bedroom casting shadows all around. Your breath hitches, nerves tingling as you steal a glance at him by the bedside. Your fingers toy with the sheets' edge and butterflies dance wildly in your stomach. This is risky, but you're only doing it to help him out, right? Nothing more. Yet, there's something brewing beneath the surface, something you're both feeling but haven't quite put into words or even thoughts. Not right now at least.
Jisung casually strips off his tank and tosses it onto his computer chair, standing over you. Even though you've seen him shirtless a million times, it feels different this time. Probably because the setting is more intimate. You can't help but admire the way his muscles are defined, how they seem to mold perfectly to his body. Every contour, every line, down to his slender waist, captivates you. Then, as he lowers his shorts, you find yourself holding your breath, unable to look away. He's got to be a good seven inches you think. Slightly curving upwards, angry and red with the veins ridiculously prominent. You don't even stop yourself from fantasizing about how he'd feel on your tongue. The temptation to reach out and touch him is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, afraid of what it might mean.
“Do you think you can take all of me y/n?” He asks curiously and you look up at him.
His features soften in the dim light. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike the confident guy you're used to seeing. It tugs at your heart, stirring up a mix of emotions you can't quite begin to untangle.
His question, It's not a cocky one. In fact he sounds a little bit self conscious, worried even. Like he's afraid of hurting you or causing you discomfort. As much as you try to not think of him as your best friend right now as a means of psyching yourself out, you can't. He's your sweet Hannie, he's the talented genius J.One, a rap name he created when he was 16. He's your Sungie, who sat with you when you were the new kid in middle school. He needs you… needs your help. What kind of friend would turn away from a friend in need?
"I can handle it, don't worry about me, Ji. Let's just get you back to normal, okay?" You reach out your hand towards him with a subtle tremble exposing your nervousness.
"Yeah, okay, lovely. Just... let me know if you want to stop, okay? Promise?” Jisung exhales, his breath jittery with nerves waiting for your response.
“I promise. Now just relax and fuck me.” You whisper.
“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”
He moves closer to you, placing his hand in yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you. The worries and hesitations you had vanish, replaced by a strong need to take care of this for him, to ease his pain. You feel the heat emanating from his body as he positions himself between your legs, gazing down at you with wide eyes.
He chews on his bottom lip and wraps his hand around the base of his cock with a hiss. He's still sensitive from the pain and his recent orgasm but he lines himself up with the entrance to your core, noticing how your arousal glistens in the red lights.
“Do you normally get this wet y/n?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious tilting his head to one side.
You hide your face with your hands, inhaling deeply. It's like you're a virgin all over again and this is your first time. You're nervous out of your mind and he's asking you a question like that. He's just curious, sure, but... he's Jisung... Your pulse pounds in your ears, and you slowly lower your hands. His eyes meet yours, and you can see everything you're feeling reflected in them.
You swallow hard, “Honestly, no. I've never been this wet, Jisung. Not even for myself.” You tell him, keeping eye contact so he knows you aren't lying.
“Fuck, that's hot.” He whispers. His cock twitches and rubs along your folds. “Ah, shit.” He winces and moans at the contact, feeling his cock stiffen even more beyond his belief.
Your body jerks at the unexpected touch, causing you to inhale sharply. His fingers lightly graze the curve of your waist, as if he's afraid you might vanish at any moment. His eyes, intense and penetrating, hold yours captive and heat pools low in your belly. Jisung's touch sends a shiver all over your body when his fingertips slowly begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Suddenly it's hard to deny just how bad you want him.
“Han Jisung if you don't stop stalling and just fuck me, I'm getting dressed and calling Chan.” Your breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. That brush against you was too much and not enough. You want him. God, you want him so bad it's almost painful.
“Okay, okay sorry. I'm just nervous. Fuck, I feel like a virgin all over again.” He says voicing your earlier thoughts out loud, making you both laugh loudly.
It feels almost normal. Like you're not about to let sleep with your long time friend. Like he's just above you now because you were wrestling for the remote. But after the laughter subsides, Jisung gathers up his courage and pushes the tip of his cock inside you without any restrictions. You're so wet that he slides right in. You both let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls of his room, enveloping you in an intimate bubble. In the dim light, the boundary between friendship and something more blurs, and you find yourself swept away by the growing need. Jisung can feel his heart beating harder in his chest as he loses himself to the sweet feeling of you around the tip of him. A growing need intensifies within him with every passing second. He's got just the head in and he wants to slam into and cum right now.
"More. Keep going," you whisper, your voice quiet and dripping with lust. He bites down hard and complies slightly hesitating. Slowly he pushes further inside of you.
Your fingers tremble as they brush against his arms as he steadily inch by inch presses forward getting deeper, drawing moans out of you that could be heard from Pluto. It takes all of Jisung's focus to slide his entire length into you. He didn't want to cum just from sticking the tip in. But with each thrust into your eager pussy, brings him closer to bursting inside you.
"Fuck.” He breathes out as he fully sinks into you, his hand laying over your stomach gently. With a soft sigh, he leans in, resting his other hand beside your head. You feel incredible and he's reminded of the only moment he fantasized about you. A distant memory flooding back, something he tried to push away ages ago.
You tagged along with him, Chan, and Binnie for a vacation to the beach one scorching summer. He couldn't help but notice the way you looked in that red bikini with the guitar pick pattern. The way it barely covered your tits and ass. The sight made him feel insane. He was thinking things about you that he hadn't ever before. He used the fact that he couldn't swim just to sit in the sand, secretly enjoying the sight of you splashing around in the water. Every splash, every droplet clinging to your skin, it was like a fantasy playing out before his eyes. He imagined plowing into you from behind in the shower, your breast pressed against the shower tiles as you took all of him. Every detail was vivid and intense in his mind. That night, while you peacefully slept beside him in the hotel room you shared, he couldn't shake the images from his mind. Unable to sleep due to the ache in his cock, he pumped himself into his fist while thoughts of you consumed his mind. Guilt filled him but he pushed it aside, chalking it up to normal hormonal desires. It had been years since he even had those thoughts, until now.
Now he's buried deep inside you, all because of a dumb decision to try those enhancement pills. All because he wanted a mind-blowing, toe curling, orgasm. But deep down, he's kinda grateful for messing up. With you beneath him, he can fuck you instead of his hand. It's been too long since he's fucked anyone. He wants to savor this moment, take his time feeling your walls flutter around him since this won't happen again. As the urge to cum fades, he eases out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside and begins moving again, slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction with his mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he rocks in and out, feeling your tightness gripping him in a way he's never experienced before. It’s better than anything he's felt with his exes. He's in awe of how amazing you make him feel. With a forceful thrust, he drives himself deeper into you, pausing when you cry out in pleasure.
"Damn it, y/n, you feel amazing. Fuck, so good.” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Can I... Can I go faster? Please, tell me I can fuck you faster, baby. Let me make you feel even better." He begs, grunting softly and shifting his hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, forcing a needy whimper from you.
You bite your lip, a rush of pleasure flooding your body as you nod in response, too overwhelmed to speak. Your breath hitches, coming in rapid gasps, and your legs tremble around him.
“Thank you, fuck.” He withdraws with a sharp pull, then eases back in hard, making you cry out. “Stop me if I'm too rough, baby. You gotta tell me sweetie. Can you do that?”
You nod, but that's not quite what he wants. Jisung wants to hear you, no, needs to hear you. His hand moves, brushing against your skin until he finds your nipple, teasingly taking it between his fingers. Your breath catches as he pinches it gently and rolls it slowly between his thumb and index finger. He feels your body react, your walls tightening around him when you whimper softly.
"Oh!" You gasp, unable to control that blissful feeling of pleasure that runs through you. He does it again, a little harder this time. The corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky grin when you arch your back.
“Yes Ji! Fuck, I'll tell you.” Your eyes close and you grip the blankets on the bed in tight hands.
“Thank you y/n. God you're the fucking, mm! You're the best. Knew only you could help me. I knew you'd take care of me.” Jisung whispers, gripping the sheets by your head tight, his fingers curling around the fabric and sliding himself back into you. The bed creaks beneath you, echoing his movements as he fucks you harder. “Knew you'd make me feel good,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sex. "Tell me, y/n, does that feel good? Does my y/n feel good because of me? Tell me baby.”
Does he always talk like this with everyone he's been with before? You wonder and you realize he's way more experienced than you imagined. The thought makes you jealous but the feeling doesn't last. Each push of his cock inside of you pushes that green eyed demon out of your mind.
His voice, smooth like honey, drips with sweetness, coating you with each word he utters. The way he speaks to you only makes you wetter and you're craving him more. He's not holding back anymore, lost in the moment where all that matters is pleasure. Yours, his… you both need more. He's not waiting for a response; he knows you're speechless, your words stuck in your throat, your silence speaking volumes. With one hand supporting himself, he cups your breast, teasing and massaging the flesh, making you squirm under him before taking your nipple into his mouth. A low, guttural moan escapes him, reverberating through you body. You moan passionately, feeling the heat of his tongue against your skin. When he gently bites the hard peaks of your nipple your body arches into him and your left hand cradles his head.
Jisung inhales deeply, and your scent envelops him, drawing him in with its intoxicating allure. "Damn, you smell so good," Jisung murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips and his heart literally skips a beat in his chest.
He swore nothing would change, but his heart rebels against that weak promise. Every day, he'll crave you more. Every glance, every touch will only intensify the want for you. The need to have you will only grow stronger. Your hands are all over him now, leaving invisible imprints that seem to penetrate straight to his heart. He finds himself addicted to your nails grazing his skin, the way your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him in closer to you with each tug.
Feeling his body pressing against yours, every movement sends waves of pleasure through you. Your hips respond to him, moving in sync and the sensation of his cock against your sweet spot makes you gasp softly. With each grind, the warmth grows blazing inside you. Jisung pauses, his lips leaving your nipple, and gazes down at you, his tousled hair framing his face in a way that makes him look irresistible in this moment. There's a silent shift between you that makes it harder to breathe.
"Close, aren't you, y/n?" he pants, a teasing grin playing on his lips. Something inside you explodes and a surge of electricity courses through you. It's not just the impending climax that has your insides uncoiling; but from that look he gives you. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel like you're free falling through the clouds.
"Almost, Ji. So close," You breathe out softly.
"Yeah, baby, me too," He murmurs, his words laced with urgency. “I need you to come first. I'm gonna pull out." You shake your head and cling to him tighter, not wanting him to stop.
"Cum inside me, Sungie. Just keep going. Harder, Ji. Right there. Fuck!" Your voice grows louder with each word.
"Are you sure, y/n?" he asks, and when you nod, he grins at you. "Gonna give you all of me, baby. Fill you up real good. Gonna make a mess." He trails off with a soft curse. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he adds, his voice becoming more raw, his desire evident in every breath. "You feel so good, y/n. So fucking good."
Jisung's hips buck wildly, thrusting faster and you scream his name, pleading with him to not stop, to not hold back, to fill you up. He's trembling, his breath coming out in ragged grunts as he pounds his cock into you, driving deeper with every thrust. Your body tenses up, and you manage to gasp out that you're about to cum just before it hits you like a tidal wave. And when it hits, fuck, it's like fireworks go off behind your eyelids. The most explosive sensation you've ever experienced.
“Gah, y/n! keep cumming, just like that. Y/n, you're gonna make me cum. So tight. Yeah, keep squeezing me with your pussy. I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming baby." He moans, his voice strained with pleasure.
You feel it deep when Jisung cums. It jets out in spurts forcefully, filling you and the sensation rips another unexpected orgasm from you. His thrusts slows to a gentle pace, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until your muscles relax around him. With a shudder, he finally stills, collapsing onto you panting, his weight supported by his forearms. Cupping your face in his hand, he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and longing in his eyes that makes you feel indescribable.
Your soft moans and the way you're clinging on to him, gives him a different sort of pleasure. Just knowing he's the one making you feel good, is a heady feeling, one that makes him want to hold onto this moment longer. But it's done and over now and he feels disappointed that such an amazing feeling, like being nestled inside of you, won't happen again.
Jisung's heart is pounding in his chest as he moves his face closer to you. His impulses taking over, "Can I kiss you?" he breathes out, voice shaky looking down at you.
You give a hesitant nod, feeling suddenly shy despite what just happened between you two, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. It's gentle, soft, sweeter than you expected. He doesn't use his tongue, unsure if you'd even want him to but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss you. The way you looked up at him, so pretty with those heavy lids and his cum dripping out of you… he just had to taste your lips, just once.
When he goes to pull away, you grab onto him, pulling him back and deepening the kiss. Your lips part, inviting him to explore you with his tongue, which he eagerly does. Your muscles tighten, and you realize his cock, which had been softening earlier, is now growing harder inside you. You gasp, intending to let him know it worked but before you can, he starts moving again and your gasp turns into moaning. There's no need for you two to keep having sex now that his erection can go away but you don't stop him. This time it's not just about relieving his pain or a means to an end, it's about something more. You both feel it, the change that he promised wouldn't happen, only you don't seem to care. No, you encourage Jisung to keep moving, to go deeper. You part your legs for him even more, letting him have all of you and surrender to the feelings pulsing through your body. It's all so new, these intense emotions you've developed for him.
Jisung's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust unhurried. His cock slips out leisurely only to ease back in, a rhythm that makes you ache for more. More speed, more friction, more everything. You want to beg him to move faster, but the intensity of his stare leaves you feeling tongue-tied. In this moment, you're the epitome of beauty to him. Your unfocused gaze, your neediness, it's all so intoxicating, urging Jisung to continue his languid movements. He watches as your eyes struggle to focus, blinking several times before locking onto him once more and he loves it. It's as if each blink only deepens the desire he has for you.
He’s amazed that you're letting him continue to fuck you, even though there's no real reason to keep going. But damn, your body has him hooked already. You're spoiling him for any other girl he might end up with, unless... No, he won't let himself go there. He can't think of you as his, not after the promise he made. Still, he craves more of you in every possible way. Jisung's body trembles as he enters you, feeling your muscles tighten around him, and it brings a grin to his face knowing he can coax another orgasm out of you. He wonders how many can say they were able to make you cum multiple times. Did they take care of you like him? He thinks cockily. With a grunt that mingles with your soft moans, he thrusts harder, pushing deeper into you, feeling the tightness around his cock. It's a rhythm of in and out, urging his cock deeper, with nowhere to go.
Did any of your past hookups take their time like this? Fucking you nice and slow, or were they all just in it for a quick nut? Not Jisung, though. He could never, would never just fuck you for his own satisfaction. Your pleasure matters to him. It's what does it for him. He gets off on seeing you lose control because of him, on making you feel good. He doesn't even need to be buried deep inside your cunt to cum. He'd cum in his pants again fingering you or while you rode his face. Just the thought of you cumming on his face is enough to make him explode right now. The sounds you make, your touch, they're his undoing. That's why he came so hard earlier when all you did was caress his knee. He knows that now.
He's finding it impossible to hold back anymore, despite wanting you to cum first. He can't though, not when you gently place your hand on his cheek. That simple touch pushes him over the edge, and he pours himself into you with a raw moan, unable to control himself any longer. His legs shake, his toes curl, and he experiences an intense orgasm, far beyond what he had hoped the pill would give him. But it's not the pill—it's you. He knows it's you.
Watching Jisung cum inside you for the second time, you feel yourself reaching your own orgasm. With soft gasps, your cunt shudders around him. The look on Jisung's face when he cums is easily becoming addicting to you now. You could probably cum just by that look alone. It's like he's lost in the moment, completely taken over by pleasure. His face scrunches up, brows knitting together, round cheeks puffing out with each deep exhale.
You both lie there catching your breaths, quiet and completely still. His cock's still buried inside you, keeping you close. Your eyes lock, taking in every little detail of each other's faces while you both catch your breath. He could stay like this forever, your pussy snug around his cock, and he would've. Only if the sudden sound of the front door swinging open and Changbin shouting about pizza didn't burst that private bubble. It startles you both. So much so that Jisung jerks out of you with a loud pop and scrambling to his feet, making you squeal in surprise.
"Shit, do you think they heard that, Ji?" you whisper hastily pulling his sheets over your body. He shoots you a glance from across the room, a grin spreading across his face. He loves that post sex afterglow radiating from you. You've never looked hotter than you do right now, all sprawled out and naked in his bed.
“Nah, I think we're okay for now. They might just think we're taking a nap like we usually do after binge watching something.” He tells you. “We should probably get dressed in case though.” You nod and when you go to get out of the bed, he stops you. “Wait, lay back. It's my mess, let me clean it up. It's the least I can do for you.”
"Alright..." you murmur, settling back onto the bed with the blanket draped over your chest, your legs parting invitingly for Jisung. Your eyes drift to the ceiling, as you await his touch, but he hesitates. "Ji, what's—"
Your words catch in your throat as you feel the brush of his hair against your thighs and his mouth on you. "Oh, God, Ji. Fuck, that's not what I had in mind," You gasp out just as he flicks his tongue over your clit.
He glances up at you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, his lips glistening with a mixture of your shared juices. "Do you want me to stop, baby? I've got the towel right here," he offers, his tone teasing.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, pleasure pooling low in your belly. "No, don't stop," you urge softly, your voice laced with need. "Keep going. Please.”
You collapse onto the bed, feeling his head sink between your thighs. His lips and teeth graze your inner thigh, and you bite the sheets that are tightly balled up in your hands, trying to stifle any noises that might alert Chan and Changbin. When Jisung plunges his hot tongue inside of you, eating his cum and yours from your cunt like it's a five star gourmet meal, you almost let out the most pornographic sounding moan from the twirling motion of his tongue. You grab a pillow with quick hands covering your mouth so that it muffles your moans and cries.
He makes quick work in giving you another orgasm with that wicked tongue of his. You would've gladly returned the favor too if he didn't already cum in the towel that was supposed to be used for you. His mouth stayed locked on your clit while he moaned and pumped his cock into the towel. The vibration of his lips making you forget all about that thing you keep stashed in your bedside drawer at home. Yeah, Jisung eating your pussy like he was starving definitely didn't need to happen either but you're not complaining.
After getting dressed and making sure Chan and Changbin wouldn't notice anything odd, you and Jisung joined the duo and settled in for pizza, beer, and a movie. The TV casts a soft glow as some suspenseful action movie plays, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a different kind of fantasy world. It's like your minds are synced, both drifting away from the movie. You and Jisung steal glances at each other in the dark living room, only to quickly look away.
Countless times he's caught you looking back in the direction of his room with a blush on your cheeks. He's hard just knowing that you're thinking about what happened and he wonders if you can still feel him like he can feel you. He just wants to say fuck the movie, to grab you by your wrist and drag you back to his room and fuck you again. He was actually worried that you would go through with the promise of pretending like sleeping together didn't happen but sometimes, in this case anyway, promises can be broken.
#han jisung smut#skz smut#han jisung x you#stray kids smut#han jisung drabbles#han jisung imagines#han smut#han x reader#han jisung fanfic#han jisung fanfiction#han jisung hard hours#han jisung hard thoughts#han jisung oneshot#han jisung x reader#han jisung x y/n#Han Jisung skz smut
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Happy birthday to the number one princess in the world!! 💖
~from her biggest fans :)
ramble of my scattered thoughts on the piece under cut as usual cuz i love talking 😋
This has been an idea I've been cookin for a while, and it was so cluttered and unlike any other ensemble piece I've made... and I decided I oughta do it anyway. I love Miku, I love Vocaloid, and I wanted to do something really ambitious and crazy for her anniversary. Crazy that she's turning her "canon" age this year TwT
I had the idea floating around since like, May...? And then finally started acting on it around June 18. I'm terrible with deadlines, obvious with how I can never make a silly birthday post in time, so I started wayyyy ahead to make sure I have some room to be lazy lol, especially with an idea as ambitious as this.
This was finished on July 12! So I had to sit on this for an annoying amount of time. Very difficult for someone like me who just wants to talk about everything I'm working on to the masses. But at the very least, that gave me the time to work on the draft for this post.
~~~
Here's some ~behind the scenes~ scribbles leading up to the finished piece!
Left is the chicken scratch plan i made in my handy dandy notebook (whenever things are getting real and ambitious, i always made a rough ROUGH plan in there. Usually I'd do a rough pass of the full thing, but this was too complicated for me to do traditionally. I majorly benefited from digital tools to make this possible). CyberDiva and CyberSongman were considered, but I ended up cutting them cuz I just didn't feel like drawing them sorry-- (just pretend they're off to the side. They gave Ruby and Clara the pizza lol). Right is the "final" completed sketch (before I decided to include Chika mid-way through coloring and VY1 and VY2 near the finish line). I started by drawing the main "groups" separated on a different canvas so I can plop them into the main canvas for easy rearranging and transforming. However I got lazy and ended up drawing everyone in the bottom right corner directly on the canvas since I liked seeing the big picture of everyone's positions. Y'know.
Almost excluded Chika! But I like her design so much that I just felt like including her last-minute. You win this time, Chika fans. VY1 and VY2 were very close to being cut! I added them when I began doing the banner and thought "eh why not". I figured their non-human designs would be pretty easy to include pushed back in the bg. Ik VY1 is more commonly associated with the fan design, but I referenced the hairpin cuz it was simpler and the fan looked very annoying to draw 😭
Sorry to the fans of many Vocaloids I had to cut because this composition was insane enough as is. I promise I wanted to include fellas like CUL, LUMi and Sachiko 😭 I will admit I was a little biased on who I wanted to include over others. Like, I don't normally care for Bruno and Clara, but I wanted to get some more international 'loids in the mix. Also wanted to stick in the realm of official designs and not fan-designs since, as much as I can appreciate those, are just a whole "wait who is that guy supposed to be" situation I didn't wanna deal with. I also did wanna include even more character references through the balloons, but they ended up being kind of ugly and overcomplicated the BG :,) (Oh, and while this was originally planned to be a Vocaloid-only piece, I did end up including Teto, Neru, and Haku 'cuz those are Miku's besties dude!!! They may not be Officially in the club but they're her girls and it would be criminal to not invite them to her birthday).
Anyway, this project marks the first time I've drawn a lot of Vocaloids. Lily, Piko, Rana, Yuki, Yukari, Miki, Maika, and many more lol. All of 'em I've heard or seen in passing, but now I actually drew them, and some have really cool and fun designs!! I got into a habit of drawing Merli after this since I just love her design for example. And I'll probably be drawing more lol!!
Oh and the last thing I'll add for now!! The cake is indeed made up of various song references!! I wanted to reference the "big four" producers, just absolute icons in Vocaloid history. The pink/black checkerboard is "World is Mine" (Ryo), the crescents on the side is "Rolling Girl" (Wowaka), the smiley faces is "Matryoshka" (Hachi), and the three hearts on the side is "The Vampire" (DECO*27, which is sort of a symbol of his whole Mannequin album tbh). I know "The Vampire" is a bit modern but I couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head. I'm a fake DECO fan I know 😔 "Matryoshka" was originally going to be referenced in the colors of the candles but believe me it looked like shit so I just went for something else last minute 😭
That's all I have to say!!! Hope you didn't mind the text wall if you made it here. I hope you like it as much as I do!!!! Happy freakin' birthday Miku!!!!
I have to deal with tagging all these characters now for my page,,, in the drafts my tags got cut off after a certain point so I think I'm massively breaching the tag limit 😭 um... I'll figure that out later...
not losing sleep that i can't tag everyone, even for page organization purposes because some characters have pretty generic names and some are a little hard to see in full yknow. If you're one of those people who tag every character in the art piece you reblog... I am very sorry.
#mayor doidles#fanart#vocaloid#hatsune miku#miku#kagamine rin#kagamine len#rin and len#meiko#kaito#megurine luka#gumi#kamui gakupo#ia#vflower#mayu#kaai yuki#oliver#otomachi una#fukase#sf-a2 miki#utatane piko#yohioloid#big al#sweet an#kasane teto#i literally dont think i can tag everyone. um. so you get the idea right#digital art#cell shaded
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Drabble request: stan/ female reader
Stan showing the reader how to pool at a bar or the shack. Reader may already know and just wants to put on the act just so she can have Stan be ever so conveniently close to her, they way he guides her leaning in his whole body into hers just to get the aim right on the cue ball.
i had to look up the rules of pool for this HAHAHA but here you go! this one takes place in a bar and for horny reasons (no matter the gender) reader is wearing shorts. thank you so much for the ask i went cross-eyed writing this because i was thinking so hard in my head!! enjoy!!
pool stan/reader (gender-neutral) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified suggestive, 852 words
You're tipsy enough to admit you like the attention when a man much older than you swaggers over from across the bar and starts mansplaining the rules of pool. It helps that he's handsome, his button-up shirt opened low, a thick gold medallion hanging over his chest, his jaw nice and square and strong.
“Like this?” you say airily, leaning over the pool table just slightly, planting your non-dominant hand on the baize. The man chuckles beside you, but his eyes rove over your body with an intensity that makes you blush.
“You're gonna wanna lean all the way over it, sweetheart. Real low. So you can aim.” He says it through a cocksure grin, nodding at the edge of the pool table. You stifle a laugh at the blatant flirt, then readjust your footing.
“Right. Like this?” You bend over the pool table, reaching one arm out in front of you with the end of the cue stick above your thumb. Your dominant hand rears back, holding it loosely. You grin freely, out of sight, when the man comes closer to you.
“Getting there,” he says, encouraging. His hand touches your elbow, raising it higher so your cue is at a better angle. Then he leans over you slightly, his body warm behind yours as he touches your dominant hand next. “Hold this a little tighter for me. There we go.”
You adjust your grip, tightening your hand on the cue, then shift your weight so you're leaning comfortably on the pool table. It's hard against your hips, but your new friend's touch distracts you from that, drowns out the music of the bar, the chatter of the other patrons surrounding you. All you can focus on is him.
“Now, this arm,” he says, slowly sliding a large hand down your non-dominant arm in front of you, “this arm doesn't move. Only thing you gotta worry about is keeping it steady.”
“Keep it steady. Got it,” you say, your eyes flickering to the side. His hand almost completely covers your own, the warm weight of it sending electricity through your arm. He has to lean over you slightly to reach, not quite on top of you, but close enough that the warmth from his chest crawls up your spine, slow and intense, like lava flowing upwards over your body. You lower your chest slightly, arching your back, and your breath hitches when your ass lightly touches the front of his pants. “And then I just hit the white ball?”
“Right. Remember now, you're sinking the stripes,” he says, voice low. He draws his hand back, gliding up to your elbow as his other one floats to your hip. He smells expensive, his cologne spicy and woody, his clothes marked with the smoky scent of cigars. You take a slow breath in, savoring it, and when you breathe out, your hips shift back to meet his. He's warm, or maybe it's the booze, or maybe it's the intoxicating feeling that rushes into you when you feel him press closer. “Got it?”
“Got it,” you repeat. But your voice is hazy and unfocused as the man squeezes your hip, almost pulls you further into him. He's half-hard, that has to be what you’re feeling, and it hits you suddenly that you're basically grinding on a stranger in a dimly-lit bar. You tilt your head, addressing him as his large hand creeps up beneath your shirt, teasing the skin beneath. “Hey. What's your name, anyway?”
“Stan,” he says, a smile in his voice. You hum. Then you shoot. The cue ball hits a striped ball straight-on, right in line with another one near the edge of a side pocket. Both of them sink, the cue ball bouncing gently against the rail. Stan's hand freezes. Behind you, he rises to his full height. You push off the pool table enough to turn around, your knees knocking against his, and you laugh at the stunned expression on his face as he stares at the pocket.
“Hey,” you say, drawing his attention to you. You grin at him, holding your cue stick loosely in one hand as you bring the other to his front. Your fingertips dip over the fabric of his shirt, touching the exposed skin of his hairy chest. The medallion glimmers in the bar's low light, and your gaze flickers to Stan's chain, his lips, his deep brown eyes. You slide your hand up, tugging gently at his chain. “You wanna get out of here?”
Stan blinks at you, and for a second he looks like a dumb, handsome idiot, a flush on his face, his hands floating in the air near your hips. But then he chuckles. He hooks a finger in one of your belt loops and tugs your hips to his. This time, you know for sure: he's half-hard, and he's shameless about it.
“You tell me,” Stan says, a sharpness to his charismatic grin. Heat flutters in your stomach.
You both leave so quickly, neither of you realize you're still holding the pool cue until you're halfway into his car.
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My 9-1-1 RANT
Ok, I don’t normally do these types of posts, but I can’t move on until I get some things out. These are just my thoughts about the latest episodes of 9-1-1 as well as overall comments on the Buck/Tommy relationship. These opinions are mine and are based on the countless hours of TV I’ve watched in my 54 years on this planet, as well as my knowledge of writing and how Hollywood operates. I’m not confirming that any of this is true or are the real intentions of anyone involved with the show. Just my opinions. So, you can agree with me or not. I’m not trying to persuade anyone in any way. Also, I’m not going to get into endless arguments about my opinions but feel free to comment if you want, I just don’t promise I’ll reply.
Ok, here we go. Sorry it’s so long. Like I said earlier, I just needed to get it out. So many wasted opportunities.
If you think TM cares what the fans want, you’re seriously kidding yourself. If he did, Buddie would have been canon a long time ago. The only thing he cares about is ratings and his vision for the show, which can change at a moment’s notice with no rhyme or reason as we’ve seen.
Although I loved Buck and Tommy together, I knew the show wouldn’t do their story justice. So, no matter what TM or OS have said, the bi story was only to garner publicity, draw in new viewers, and increase ratings especially with the show moving to a new network. There was no altruistic reason behind it so don’t kid yourself. They knew there was an audience for the story because of all the Buddie shippers. Just remember, it’s called show business, not show friends for a reason.
Do you think OS really cares about bi representation? Based on his latest comments and non-apology it’s obvious he only cares about getting the stories that garner him the most screen time and press. Seriously, read his latest interviews. He’s excited to get to have fun now. So, congrats OS, Buck gets to F around. Just shows how most, if not all, actors are ego driven no matter what they say. Sorry not sorry.
TM has commented that he doesn’t owe anyone anything. In fact, I recall him saying to Buddie fans if they don’t like it, read fanfiction. If that didn’t clue you in, then you weren’t reading the room. Kinda reminds me of another show runner…for those who watched H50 you know who I’m talking about. That’s why I don’t get heavily invested in these shows. I’ll watch but I never expect anything I like to last…especially if it has to do with gay relationships.
It says a lot that the show remained completely silent about the bullying and death threats Lou received just for playing a role he was happy to play. Again, they really didn’t care because they knew he wasn’t going to be there after episode six. What a great message for all the bullies…just keep bullying and you’ll get what you want.
Again, reread OS’s interviews. He was doing the Hollywood double speak. Says just enough to keep you hooked with hope to get you to watch even when he knew all along it wasn’t lasting. It really was as clear as day if you go back and read what he said.
Also, if you thought Buck was going to get into a meaningful long-term relationship, then you didn’t watch the video from the You Tuber “Call Me Chato” that TM posted on his Facebook. The video was all about characters and how they should always stay fundamentally the same with minimal development - I’m paraphrasing. However, Buck is the golden retriever, heart so big it gets broken, character who will remain on a hamster wheel and unlucky in love because that’s who he is. If he changes too much it shifts the dynamic, which only happens if the show was ending.
If you thought the writers would do justice to a bisexual story, then you haven’t been watching the show closely. There’s been minimal Buck/Tommy relationship development on screen. Taylor got more. Viewers were lucky to get crumbs in the limited screen time Buck and Tommy got. Then, a breakup out of left field? One minute Buck is saying Tommy is it for him and he wants him to move in, and then it’s over? If he truly felt deeply for Tommy, why not fight to keep him? Why give up so easily and let him walk away? What’s the point? Also, to end it on a terrible stereotype is yet another clue. Horrible writing and another sign that TM and OS had zero investment in the relationship. The whole break up was rushed and made no sense. Essentially, it was just used to draw people in and to get Buck single and sleeping around again because that’s who he is. I for one won’t care for any of Buck’s future relationships. I mean, why would I when they never last.
Also, writers that give you a 66-year-old police sergeant and a 10 y/o boy landing a heavily damaged plane on an active freeway in LA with no prior training, and sorry playing video game flight simulators is not training, is some Sharknado level writing, which is not a compliment. Oh, and that whole story was truly the shows “jumping the shark” moment. If you don’t know what the term “jumping the shark” means, look it up and try to tell me I’m wrong.
Not having Tommy involved in the three part premier episodes, other than a few minutes at a birthday party, was so obvious as to the show’s intent. I mean, the fake captain from Hotshots got more screen time.
They claim they wanted someone for Buck that was connected to him and the 118 and then you don’t use the character at all. You wanted Buck off the hamster wheel? What a crock! Such a wasted opportunity.
Since it’s been confirmed episode 6 was filmed before 5, Tim’s just playing god with peoples’ feelings and crushing their hearts at this point. I mean, how do you have such a great episode (5) and a wonderful speech by Josh (6) just to break them up? Plus, having Tommy break up after six months? That man was all in, which was obvious in episode 5.
Guess it shouldn’t be a surprise that’s how TM would handle things after that horrible Tarlos breakup. At least on Lone Star we knew Rafa (Carlos) was a main cast member so there was hope. Lou was a guest star so it seems kinda final based on his interviews. Again, what was the point? They could have had Buck's bi revelation be with a random character. So, building up the Buck/Tommy relationship just to take it away was to inflict the most pain. Good job.
Do I think the show will make Buddie canon? Who knows…one thing I do know is I wouldn’t trust them if they did. Also, even if Tommy somehow returns, I don’t trust TM with anything related to this story. Sure, hope he’s happy with ruining the show for so many people. Again, like another show runner I mentioned in item 4 above. Honestly, I can’t believe the Buddie fans have stayed for so long. That’s commitment, I guess.
Do I think Lou should go back to 9-1-1? Hell no! He was screwed over by both TM and OS. Prove it to me otherwise. However, it’s up to him and of course, he loves acting so I wouldn’t blame him.
Finally, even though I’ve watched the show since the beginning, it no longer brings me joy. There are too many other TV shows to stick with one I no longer enjoy. So yes, I’m announcing my departure, and I don’t give an F what OS, you, or anyone else thinks about it. Not that any of this matters any way…
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@remotewatch HQ’s Election Countdown Day 6: Law Students
Hand to god, it began purely as an academic partnership. Splitting note-taking responsibilities and checking each other’s work, that sort of thing. Sure, Jack was absurdly pretty, but the addictive spike in positive instructor feedback after you’d been reviewing each other’s writing for a bit had much more to do with it. When you started fucking after your study sessions, then before, then doing as much as you could before the ten minute break timer went off between subject blocs, it was pretty easy to justify. Literally getting fucked to sleep six nights a week made it nigh impossible to stay up worrying about what concepts would screw you over on an exam. The more time you spent letting Jack’s tongue lave over you and the longer you let him say he needed to coax you on his fingers before stretching you out over his dick like taffy, the more you struggled to worry about much of anything.
If you had to put a date on it, Halloween was around when you realized a change was going to be necessary.
The whole night had actually been going swimmingly: an Anything But Human dress code for your friends’ potluck was by far the least contrived of the season, and you’d started designing your honeybee costume the second you got wind of it. At your request that he please select a corporeal, non political costume for one party, Jack grabbed some wire, pliers, and black yarn from your craft basket and whipped up a cat ear headband to match the first all black outfit his eyes landed on before he’d headed over.
You, on the other hand, spent the last hour leading up to the party thoroughly saturating two powder puffs in gold spray glitter for your behind the knee curbiculae, leaving him to meticulously glue gold rhinestone smatterings to the black velvet of your dress and taking care to push his head back whenever it dipped too close to the fresh E6000.
Things only started to go south when you had to bend down to draw on Jack’s whiskers with your eyeliner. His patience lasted almost long enough for you to reapply your lipstick and kiss the tip of his nose pink before one finger was curling under your swooping low, gold marabou-trimmed neckline.
“I’m glad I didn’t let you talk me into going commando with a catsuit-“ he murmured, nuzzling his nose over your chest “it would be a real problem when you look this good.”
Soon enough, your legs were hooked securely over his shoulders and any lingering stressors were steadily eroded away with each full-weighted, eyelid-fluttering thrust of Jack’s hips.
When you eventually get out the door, it’s already sunset, and the fading daylight reveals comically dense patches of your pollen glitter reaching from Jack’s shoulders clear down to his navel. That good for nothing spray adhesive hadn’t held shit in place; you’d be amazed to discover any sparkle left behind your knees the way he’s bathed in it.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about! We look like a couple of perverts, and we’re late!” you frantically swat at his chest trying to clear some of the glitter, only working it deeper into the weave of his sweater.
“We’ll fit right in!”
“No, I’m serious! We really need to set some ground rules or something because this is getting ridiculous.”
✨✨✨✨✨
I’m sure you’ve all seen these by now 🤭. I know we talk a lot of the Harris Walz campaign specifically but Jack makes a good point- there are so many other candidates and propositions on your ballot that are just as important. For example, it is vital for us to secure as many GOP seats as possible. Vote.org has a great feature where you can enter your information and get a preview of your ballot to prep for when you vote for real.
Stay informed and stay mobilized, my beautiful heauxs! 👏🏽🩵💋
#jack schlossberg x reader#election countdown#their cohort is lowkey clutching their pearls#jack schlossberg
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Hi everypony!
My kofi is ko-fi.com/captainzigo if you enjoy my art, consider leaving me a tip! this is otherwise entirely a labor of love so,,,
you can also send a request with your tip! but if you choose to do so, please read the disclaimer later on in this post**
my non-art blog, where i accept asks is @snapewife-divorce-lawyer and my reblog-spam blog is @3amgaypotion also i am on bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/captainzigo.bsky.social
that's a bunch of pictures of my oc(/ponysona) Prickly Pear. she's a cowgirl
Frequent/noteworthy questions below the break
**on donations made to me:
i still dont take commissions currently, but if you send a request with a donation, there's a 99% chance i'll do it. and that remaining 1% i'll probably just ask you for a different request. if you send me a request with a donation you are not sending me a commision. you are making a donation, and i might do you a favor as a result. you do not own the resulting art. and I am under no obligation to complete it or to do it in the way that you like. you do not need to make a donation in order to make a request. i talk more about it here
hello mutuals!
If you are a mutual, DM me for an invite to discord server and subsequently to minecraft server
on sending me asks:
any asks you send me should be like Strongbad emails. one paragraph. no attachments. unless you are sending me refs.
in any interactions, please keep in mind that i am a stranger on the internet and act accordingly.
unless I have explicitly said otherwise, you can safely assume that I do not count you amongst my friends. it is nothing personal, it is in fact the opposite.
why am i like this?
i am autistic. i say this because representation matters, but also because i would like to ask that you please be very frank with me. i don't even really need your patience. just say what you mean and we will get along fine.
can you draw my ocs?
you most certainly can draw any of my ocs. i'd love that acually. tag me
on (re)posting my art:
do not post my art on other platforms. do not repost my art period. I don't really exist on other platforms since i deleted Twitter. So if you see my stuff on other platforms, it's not me. except for my bluesky.
transformative works are obviously allowed, at least here in america where i live. but if you want my blessing, please keep them SFW, and try to keep the spirit of the original artwork
is my blog SFW?
im in my twenties. i keep my blog SFW (as i define it) as a strict rule.
i do not consider the fact that sex exists, that some people enjoy it, or some innuendo to be NSFW. i also do not consider swearing, even as tho a sailor might, to be NSFW.
are NSFW interactions ok?
in short: no. while i have no aversion to to that sort of thing, and often actually enjoy it, i keep this blog SFW. the intention behind my art is to be SFW even when it might be skirting the line. in general, and especially, specifically with mlp, i do not wish to have NSFW interactions on the internet. please respect this boundary.
on shipping:
in my opinion, all romance real or fictional should be between people who are similar in age, doing age appropriate things, not closely related, and all with mutual consent. i am not interested in witnessing or interacting with anything outside of these parameters.
on my blue hair and pronouns:
i am a trans woman. i am also bisexual. i am also poly and demi since im listing things. i am out online becasue i know how important it is to know that you aren't alone.
do i take constructive criticism?
NO 🖕👹🖕 FUCK YOU!!!!!!! GET BLOCKED IDIOT!! unless you are a marginalized person who feels i have unintentionally made you uncomfortable somehow with my art or otherwise. in that case i am sorry and you do me a great favor by calling me out. OTHERWISE FUCK YOU DUMBASS IF YOU DONT LIKE MY ART GO DRAW YOUR OWN 🖕🖕🖕🖕
“i hate bronies”…
i don't necessarily hate you if you self identify with that label. i like to make myself off-putting to keep creeps away. i talk about it more in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/captainzigo/744131513208176640/when-i-say-i-hate-bronies-in-my-header-its
brony?
i don't hold a lot of nostalgia for old brony stuff. infact it's quite the opposite. i was a child when the show came out, and more than that i was a girl. i am not a brony.
do i like g5?
i like all generations of mip including the new stuff. gen 4 is just the one i grew up with
why is my header aurora, bori and alice from the best gift ever?
well that would be because i hate them like a mother hates a child. like the sun hates the moon. like sickly victorian child hates the slightest morsel of bread.
on flurryheart:
i often draw stuff about cozy glow x flurry heart. this is with the understanding that cozy glow spends about a decade turned to stone. nullifying the age gap.
🤓☝️ i think you mean effect, not affect
i am dyslexic. i spell stuff wrong all the time and i type weird. please don't bother correcting me. wooptydoo your brain is wired normally. sending you a medal.
on my username:
i've had the same username since i debuted on the internet. zigo is the name of an oc i made that i dont really talk much about anymore. zigo is a fine enough nickname, and at least one person calls me that irl.
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Sheriff x Outlaw Au
Lucifer sat at his desk with his dusty boots resting on top of it. His gaze landed on the wanted poster of one Adam Kadmon.
Wanted Dead or Alive.
To think that he came close to arresting him once and the guy slipped away by literally throwing dirt in his eye.
Adam could be anywhere, but if he ever came back to this side of Pride Lucifer would deal with him personally.
-
Adam limped away, his horse dead and arm bleeding. He needed to bandage his arm, get a disguise and lay low for a while.
He had managed to steal enough gold to get by for a while but those thugs would come looking for his head eventually.
Adam knew coming back to Pentagram City was a risky move, having a personal beef with the sheriff alone makes this a foolish idea. But he needed more money and a place to stay for a while.
Help wanted sign at the local bar. With a fake mustache, a different hat, and a name change Adam had himself a job as the new bartender.
Adam: Here's to another new start.
*Adam smirked as he walked into his new job, it was rather easy to trick the owner of the bar to think that he was a man named Jacob who was just looking for a job as a bartender after moving out west, it had helped that he had learn how to make drinks that his first wife Lilith wanted, to say it was a bad marriage was an understatement, whenever he did something she deemed, she would hurt him, to get away from her he had to fake his death*
Bar Owner: You came early, that’s good. I mainly want you to make drinks for the guests and protect the bar from potential robbers.
Adam: Yes sir.
*Adam was already planning on a way to rob the place when he got the chance to, Pentagram City was the best place to rob in spite of the risk, the risk mainly being a very persistent sheriff by the name of Lucifer*
Adam internally: That sheriff has become a real pain in my ass.
*Lucifer wasn’t the only threat he had to keep an eye out for, there were others who wanted his head, they had been hired by Lilith to find him and drag him back home to her, he hated the fact that he was so afraid of his wife, he went behind the bar and started his job, his eyes widened in shock when he saw Sheriff Lucifer walk into his bar*
Adam internally: Don’t draw attention to yourself, you are in disguise, he probably won’t recognize you.
Lucifer: l’ll have a root beer.
Adam: Sure, seems odd to get a non alcoholic beverage at a bar.
Lucifer: I’m on the job, it would be unprofessional if I got drunk on the job. Say, have I met you before.
Adam: I have a face that people say looks like someone they’ve met before. I can assure you that we haven’t met before. I think I would remember meeting a good looking guy like you.
*he handed Lucifer the bottle of root beer while both blushed*
Adam internally: Shit, why did I have to say I found him attractive?
*it was true that Adam did find Lucifer attractive even if he was a thorn in his side*
Lucifer: You’re quite attractive yourself, what is your name?
Adam: Jacob.
*Adam couldn’t help but smile, one of the ways Lilith hurt him was by mocking the fact that he had gained a little bit of weight which made him wonder why she wanted him back if she couldn’t stand looking at him, it was probably because she liked having control over him, Lucifer mainly had his drink and left money for it as well as a tip for Adam, other than that his shift was pretty uneventful, once his shift was over Adam walked out to see Lucifer waiting for him*
@things-arent-what-they-seem66
#hazbin hotel#adam#hazbin hotel adam#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#adam/lucifer#adamsapple#sheriff x outlaw au
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Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 6
Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
Another Monday. Is this what life is? Mourning the weekend as you try to wipe the sleep from your eyes. It's too much, you should be cuddling squishes and snoring.
You hop off the bus and head towards the building. Once you're at your desk, you can pretend you're awake. If you get the right angle, you can just doze off a bit. Just a couple minutes more.
The elevator nearly knocks you with its slow rise. You shuffle between cubicles but before you can claim your chair, you find something unexpected. A cushion. A pink and white ergonomic cushion with a matching pad clung around the back rest. Um, this isn't your chair.
You look around confused. Someone will be real mad when they realise they lost their fancy chair. People do seem territorial around here. You turn the chair as you search for its owner.
“Did I get the colour right?” A grizzly voice has you leaping in place. You face Curtis as he rests his hand on the side of your cubicle, “they had purple too.”
“You?” You gasp.
“I…” he shrugs and his eyes wander to the ceiling, “I'm tryna make it up to you. I was and asshole so–”
“Nope, nuh uh,” you turn and tear open the velcro, detaching the back pad, “keep ‘em. I don't want your charity.”
“It's not–” he steps forward, “it's an apology.”
“Apology? For stealing? Well, I can't forgive a liar.”
You shove the pad against his chest, “I think I was clear. You should be happy I was because I have a terrible habit of rambling. My mom says I could talk the dead to life.”
He reluctantly clasps onto the pad as he scowls. You grab the seat cushion and press it against the other one. He reluctantly hooks his other arm under it.
“I was gonna give it back,” he grumbles.
“So why'd you take it?” You challenge.
“I don't know,” he mutters.
“I do. You're a bully. I left those behind in school,” you put your hands on your hips, “so go away and keep your hands off my things!”
His nostrils flare as his eyes meet yours. They're the shade of blue that makes you think of storms and the ocean and butterfly wings. He'd be cute if he wasn't so mean.
“You shouldn't talk to me like that,” he warns as he squeezes the cushions.
“Take your own advice, meanie! You had your chance.”
“I've been nice,” he rasps as he looks you up and down.
You're unsettled by how the glint in his eyes changes, how his shoulders square and his jaw ticks. He meets your gaze and narrows his eyes.
“You don't know what mean is.”
You flinch as he spins on his heel. He marches past you, a gust of air tickling your cheeks as he flees. You turn and watch him go, your stomach knotting.
Maybe you were a bit rude, even pushy, but you're trying to be better about drawing lines. You don't have to be a doormat to be nice. Even if it is easier.
You put your bag on your desk and sit, squeaking at the harsh impact of your ass on the thin seat. Gosh, there may as well not be any padding. You sniff and swivel close to the desk, booting the computer as you wait and think.
He's mad but he'll get over it. He made it clear he has no interest in you before so why this sudden change. Oh well, you never really understood men or their brains.
🩷
You stare at your pen cup and frown. You miss your happy penguin pen buddy. As you ponder his absence, that suspicion nips at your ears. Maybe he took those too.
Does it matter? You're moving on. You ordered new pens on Amazon. You're starting over new!
You get up to get a fresh coffee. You really should cut back. Maybe you could do some hot chocolate but you get a bit silly when you have too much sugar.
You enter the break room and immediately want to storm out. He's there, glaring at the machine as he watches it brew. You smell the dark roast you bought him. How could you have ever been so nice to someone like him?
Curtis takes his mug and you sidle along the wall, certain to get well out of his way. He turns and stops as he sees you. You stare at the ceiling as you wait for him to go.
He snarls but makes no move to leave. You bounce on your heels with your mug in hand. You can wait.
He's not going. So you go to the machine and peruse the selection. Maple shortbread, huh, that's a curious choice.
You sense him lingering. You do your best to ignore him, the scuff of his shoes putting you on edge. You're not the best at reading people, obviously, but you can feel his anger.
As he looms closer, you take a step forward. You spin and throw an arm up as if blocking an unseen strike. Your hand flips Curtis’ mug, spilling the brown liquid down his grey shirt. He backs up and looks down at the mess.
“Why would you do that?”
“Personal space,” you wave your arm up and down, drawing the invisible wall before you.
“I'm trying to… you're crazy, you know that?”
“So what does that make you?” You pout, “I told you to leave me alone.”
He puffs, lip curling as he grips his mug tight. He scoffs and whips it past you so it smashes against the wall and the bits litter over the counter. You let out a squeal as he stomps out, leaving you in shock, standing before a puddle of coffee.
You gulp and face the remnants of his mug. You should clean that up before anyone cuts themselves. You cross to the counter and set to carefully plucking up the shards.
“What happened in here?” Melanie asks as she enters, “oh it's you.”
You ignore her as you focus on the glass. Of course she assumes it was you. Seems like everyone thinks you're a disaster.
#curtis everett#dark curtis everett#dark!curtis everett#curtis everett x reader#sunshine lollipops and rainbows#series#drabble#au#snowpiercer
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How much is hallucination and how much is real?
I almost touched on this in my post where I posit that Non is the killer but I didn't wanna go off on a tangent and make that post even longer than it ended up being.
Now that it has been canonically and explicitly established that what's scaring these boys isn't something supernatural, I wanted to go through and determine how much of what they see/hear is them hallucinating and how much could potentially be real.
Spoiler: it's not as cut and dry as you'd think.
Jin hears chanting when he's up on the balcony with Phi that Phi does not hear. I feel confident saying this is just an auditory hallucination.
The next two people to have hallucinations are Tee and Top when they're riding through the woods to get help for Por.
Tee sees a figure wielding what looks like an axe.
And Top sees the now infamous figure on crutches.
Once again, I'm fairly confident that what Tee saw was a hallucination but with Top, I'm not sure. And this is where it starts getting harder to draw a line between hallucination and reality.
We see the figure on crutches a second time when Top is in the bathroom. He starts having his hallucination and a candle beside the sink falls off the counter and shatters, spreading broken glass all over the floor.
But, when Tee and the boys break into the bathroom a short while later?
There's no broken glass on the floor. However, note that there also isn't a candle beside the sink anymore. There's three options here. One, it's just a continuity error. Two, there never was a candle beside the sink. Three, the candle on the sink was part of the hallucination, as was it falling and shattering.
Line's getting blurred isn't it? Stay with me here, because the sequence of these next three events is important.
In the first of these events, White is in the bathroom doing his skincare routine and hallucinates plague on his skin.
At the same moment, he looks into the mirror and sees a masked figure reflected in the mirror behind him.
He turns to look out the window and the figure is gone. Then he turns back to the mirror and the plague is gone, so we know the plague was definitely a hallucination.
In the second event, Fluke is with Por and the door behind the couch opens.
He gets up to close it and when he turns back to the couch, he sees Por with blood pouring out of his eyes and hallucinates that Por strangles him.
While he's being "strangled" we see the masked figure standing behind the couch.
It's unclear if Fluke saw the figure since his eyes were squinting and started to close as he struggled with Por. Regardless, we know for a fact that the strangling was a hallucination.
In the third event, which happens in the very next scene, we see New searching for the hard drive.
And this is where I thank @respectthepetty for reminding me they watch shows on mute and inadvertently sending me down this rabbit hole because at the very moment I captured in the screenshot above, New has an auditory hallucination.
He hears chanting and screaming just like Jin did on the balcony and as this hallucination is happening?
A masked figure walks past the stairs. These two things happen almost simultaneously so it's very hard to tell whether New looked up from the box he was searching because of the chanting or because he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
And again, we know it was an auditory hallucination because when he rejoins the group, he asks this:
These three events happening one after the other--the figure White saw, the figure just inside the door while Fluke was being strangled, and the figure walking past the stairs--lead me to believe that the figure was not a hallucination.
I think Non (or whoever) was skulking around outside, was seen by White, and then made his way around to where Fluke was. He opened the door and when he realized Fluke was hallucinating, he slipped inside the house and he was seen by New.
The plague, the strangling, and the chanting were hallucinations, but they happened to coincide with a masked figure actually entering the house.
There are two more instances which I am fairly certain are NOT hallucinations.
After Uncle Dang gets decapitated by the wire and Tee and Top take his bike, Tee sees a masked figure in the woods. (Also worth noting that this time, they ride off in the opposite direction because of the wire, away from potential escape)
I couldn't quite manage to capture it on the exact frame, but the figure isn't just there when the camera pans to it. They were crouched in the bushes and popped up when they saw the boys coming.
My confidence is shakier on the second instance, which is also the last time we see a masked figure before shit goes down at the temple.
When New and Top are riding through the woods, Top sees a figure wielding an axe and throwing it at them.
Although the figure is already there when the camera pans to it this time, Top sees it before it raises the axe to throw it.
Although we can't quite tell how far away the figure was from the spot where the bike fell over, we don't see it on the ground. We also don't see it later when the boys come to investigate where Top went. All we know is that there is an axe, because Top (or Non) attacks the boys with it when they're in the temple.
The only other hallucination of note after this point is Jin seeing bloody Keng in the temple but I do feel confident saying that one wasn't real, especially since he sees bloody Keng again when Phi gives him the spiked water.
If you made it this far, thank you, I love you. I know this was very long but the curiosity simply would not leave me alone. As soon as drugs were put on the table, I just had to know if all the hallucinations were real and as it turns out, it's a very mixed bag.
I hope you don't mind me tagging you for the second time in one day @slayerkitty 💜
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Bubbles and Blush
[A/N: I've been drawing a lot of non-Sonamy-related content lately, but I desperately needed my fix so I wrote this spicy fluff whenever I had any free time (灬♥ω♥灬);;;;;;; I hope you enjoy. This story is also on AO3 if you prefer to read there.] [Summary: Happily reunited after a week apart, Amy devises a delicious strategy to help Sonic overcome his fear of water. Rated T]
Sonic zipped through the forest as quickly as possible, darting and weaving through the trees while careful not to drop the bag he was carrying over his shoulder. The familiar spring breeze of his hometown was refreshing on his fur. He had spent the last week away, sprinting from country to country with no real plan but following wherever his feet took him and to see what new adventures were in store for him. The trip left him feeling reenergized. Now his only concern was hoping Amy would be home once he got there.
The two had finally become an item months ago and he was still pleasantly surprised at how natural it all felt. To be fair, the pair had already been acting like they were more than friends for a long time, anyway. For years he loved fighting alongside her and lived to make her laugh. Now he had the added benefit of getting to kiss her anytime he wanted. And Chaos, did he want to kiss her now. The thought sent a rush of butterflies through his stomach and he couldn’t help a smile from forming on his lips.
The blue hero picked up his pace even more. He loved the freedom he still enjoyed to be able to run as carelessly as the wind, but if he was honest, he found himself missing Amy and longing to come back home to her. It seemed everything he came across on this particular trip reminded him of her. Thus, he ended up with this tote bag full of souvenirs and treats he thought she’d like.
Finally, Amy’s house was in sight. He dug his heels into the ground so he could make a screeching halt, stopping just at her bedroom window. He adjusted the tote on his shoulder once more before using both hands to pry open the window and swung one leg over the sill to climb in.
“Yo Aaaames ♪!” Sonic called out in a melodic tune. “You home?”
“Sonic! You’re back!” Amy shouted excitedly from another room. The sound of pure joy coming from her voice made Sonic’s heart flutter. She made him feel like the center of the universe without even trying. He hoped he could make her feel just as appreciated, especially with this surprise he planned for her. He finished jumping in through the window and closed it behind him.
“Is there such a thing as a Best-Boyfriend-in-the-World Award?” he asked, marching comically through Amy’s bedroom towards the direction of her voice. “‘Cuz if there is, I’m about to win it!” He only managed a brief glimpse of Amy’s face before he swiftly spun on his heel with his back towards her. Crap! He was so busy bragging about his romantic gesture that he didn’t even realize he was following the sound of her voice to her en suite. Amy had called out to him while she was enjoying a bubble bath. Luckily – or not so luckily – he caught himself fast enough that he didn’t see anything. Sure he had seen her naked already, but he figured he probably oughtn’t look without her permission…
“Sorry! I didn’t realize…” he muttered, his cheeks growing warm and his fur starting to stand on end.
Amy laughed from behind him, “You can look, Mr. Chivalry.”
Well, if she insisted.
Just as suddenly as he had turned away from her, Sonic spun back around eagerly. He barked out a laugh at the unexpected sight. Enormous mountains of foamy bubbles were towering from the ivory tub, completely overtaking Amy so only her head was visible. She had her pink quills pulled back into a messy bun. Even if it wasn’t what he was hoping to see, she was so damn cute that he didn’t feel disappointed.
From the mass of bubbles, Amy reached out her hand with her fingers splayed. Sonic hurried over and laced his fingers with hers before kneeling down on the tile floor. “I missed you,” she smiled, leaning forward. His lips met hers for a tender, longing kiss. He started to pull away, but Amy abruptly wrapped her other arm around his neck and yanked him back towards her for more, devouring him hungrily. Despite the unpleasant feeling of being splashed with water from her fast movement, Sonic grinned against her lips. Amy was so assertive and unapologetic about what she wanted. Her passion was just one of the many things he loved about her.
The bubblegum-colored goddess only broke her lips free from his so she could pepper more kisses across his muzzle, snout and forehead. Sonic laughed happily at the attack and only when she finally paused to catch her breath did he place a gloved hand on her cheek. “I missed ya, too,” he whispered.
“So,” Amy kissed his palm before folding her arms on the edge of the tub and rested her chin on her forearms. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, “What’s this about a ‘best-boyfriend’ award I owe you?”
Sonic chuckled mischievously, repositioning himself on the floor to sit more comfortably. He removed the tote from his arm and placed it in his lap. He cleared his throat and put on his best ‘game-show host’ voice. “One of the perks of dating the fastest thing alive is you get the finest delicacies the planet has to offer delivered fresh to your door! Behold -” He reached into the bag and pulled out a colorful bouquet of skewered candied fruits, carefully protected in plastic wrap. With his other hand he pulled out a small box covered in ornate packaging. “Mooncakes and tanghulu from Chun-nan.” Amy squealed with delight and grasped for the treats but Sonic pulled them just out of reach, setting them carefully on the ground. “But wait, there’s more!”
Two more packages were drawn from the bag and he opened one ceremoniously, revealing an array of flaky pastries. “Every flavor baklava Shamar had to offer-” he glanced inside the box and grimaced, realizing some of the desserts had been crushed and mangled on his run. He closed the container quickly and set it aside, murmuring in a rushed tone: “SonicTheHedgehogWillNotBeHeldResponsibleForDamagedOrDestroyedGoodsDuringTheShipmentOfYourPackages.”
Amy laughed as he fished out another item from the tote. He held up a plastic container with what was once a beautiful pastry dusted in sugar and covered in layers of cream and fruits. Jostling around in the bag had made it not nearly as elegant as it was when he first bought it, but it was still prettier than anything he usually ate. “Last but not least, all the way from Spagonia! This… thing!”
“Mille-feuille!” Amy exclaimed.
“Gesundheit,” Sonic quipped.
“No,” Amy giggled. “That’s what that’s called: ‘mille-feuille.’ Oh it’s one of my favorites! How’d you know?”
“Hahaha, ohhh Ames,” Sonic closed his eyes and shook his head as if it were foolish of her to ask. “I had absolutely no idea.” Amy burst out into a fit of laughter at his honest response. “But–” he added with a grin, “–it looked super fancy so I figured you’d like it.”
Amy sprang up and leaned forward to kiss Sonic once more. “Are you kidding? I love it, I love all of it! This is an incredible surprise. Thank you!”
“Ahh it’s nothing,” Sonic waved his hand dismissively, hoping to hide his blush. He didn’t consider himself much of a romantic but these kinds of reactions he got out of Amy were the best. “So are ya hungry? I was thinking we could have lunch, maybe even try some of these swanky things,” he gestured at the tower of goodies.
The pink hedgehog pouted and sank into the tub dramatically until she was almost completely hidden in the mass of bubbles. A soft whine came from the mountain of foam.
“What?” Sonic chuckled.
“I really want to, but I just got in here. Can we have lunch after I’m finished?” Amy pleaded.
“Of course!” Sonic assured her, standing up from the floor and collecting the pile of treats to stash in the kitchen. “You relax. I can entertain myself.” He made it just beyond the threshold of the en suite when he heard Amy’s voice call out in song.
“Orrrr~” the mischievous tone in her voice stopped him dead in his tracks. He slowly looked over his shoulder and saw her head poking out from the mass of bubbles once again. She had a deliciously playful look in her eyes that made his breath catch in his throat. “You could join me,” she suggested.
“In there?!” Sonic asked incredulously. He set the boxes on a nearby dresser and came back to the bathroom, leaning on the doorway. “Nuh-uh, I don’t think so.”
Amy rested her forearms on the edge of the tub again, her tone unamused. “You’ve been running all around the world for the last week. When’s the last time you bathed?”
Sonic crossed his arms as he racked his brain. He was a lot better about grooming more frequently now that he had a lady to impress, but come to think of it he had been pretty busy this week. “It… rained?” he suggested, hoping that answer was good enough.
“Ugh!” Amy responded in disgust, scooping up a handful of bubbles and tossing it at him.
“If you were suggesting I shower with ya, I’d be all for it!” he shouted. He gestured gingerly at the tub. “But a bath? All that … water.” He shuddered.
Amy clasped her hands together. “What better way to face your fears? You really should try to get acclimated to water one of these days so why not start by having a bath with me? I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Quite the opposite, actually…” She released her hands and walked her fingers along the edge of the tub. “I’ll scrub every. last. inch.”
Sonic’s fur pricked up again, his cheeks flushed. Damn, this woman knew how to rile him up. He pushed himself off the door frame and began pacing back and forth, chewing his bottom lip as he weighed his options. He truly hated water more than anything in the world. It wasn’t just a silly little dislike for it; it genuinely terrified him. The thought of him sinking helplessly, his lungs filling up… And it would take way less water than was in that tub to do the trick!
But on the other hand…
The cold shiver in his spine was quickly replaced by a warm burning in his belly. He really missed Amy this week. And with how closely they’d be pressed up against each other in the tub, he could show her just how much he missed her… Sonic bit his cheek to try and stop the leering smile that was creeping up his muzzle, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Is there even room in that thing for the both of us?” he groaned, one last attempt to win this battle of logic.
“♪ You’d better hope not ♪” Amy sang. She pressed her tongue to one of her canines, accentuating her impish grin before slinking down into the bubble bath until she was no longer visible.
“Ah hell,” Sonic cursed in defeat. He quickly yanked off his gloves and kicked off his shoes and socks before making his way to the tub. Clutching onto both edges of the basin, he took several rapid, shallow breaths before stepping one paw into the water. He instantly recoiled and clamped his eyes shut, immediately regretting his decision.
He heard the water splashing around and suddenly warm, wet hands tenderly grasped his hips. He jolted in surprise. “I’ve got you,” Amy reassured him. There wasn’t a hint of judgment in her sweet voice, which helped make him feel a little less stupid. She kissed him so softly it made his heart hurt. “And you’ve got this. Just follow me,” she kissed him again and again, each time pulling a little further away so he’d have to lower himself more and more to reach her mouth. Once he was fully submerged in the bath, Amy held him tightly to her and licked his lips as a reward, soliciting a shaky sigh. He was trembling and struggling to breathe, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the terror of the water or the exhilaration of feeling Amy’s bare body against his. He wanted more than anything to just go at her, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t let go of the edge of the tub to keep himself from sinking. Just being in her embrace would have to be enough, he guessed.
Sonic slid his hands along the rim of the bathtub until his forearms were on either side of Amy’s neck. He slowly opened his eyes, sucking in air through his teeth. “So, uh… How were things while I was gone?”
Amy rested her head against the back of his hands behind her. “Oh, you know, the ‘yoozh’,” she replied casually. She started gently massaging her fingers into his back and sides, working the soapy bath water into his navy fur. Sonic’s rigid body relaxed ever so slightly, relishing in the feeling. “Actually,” she continued, “‘He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named’ did not bring his A-Game this week. The battles were so pathetic they’re not even worth mentioning!”
Sonic chuckled in admiration. Here this woman was, describing duels with one of the most formidable villains of their time as if it were as inconvenient and mundane as taking out the trash. “I really did find my perfect match,” he said aloud without realizing.
The admission made Amy’s cheeks turn bright red and for the first time in their encounter, she became bashful. “Oh,” she whispered sheepishly, trying not to call him out on his statement but secretly screaming with joy on the inside. Her claws dragged from his back around to his front and began scrubbing his chest fur. She cleared her throat to keep her voice from wavering, “You mentioned you made it to Shamar. I have good memories there.” A smile formed as she recalled a scene from what seemed like a lifetime ago: a handsome blue hedgehog agreeing to a date with her. “Tell me about all the trouble you got into this week!”
“Oh man, you have no idea!” Sonic beamed, launching into a drawn-out story of all his latest antics. Amy’s plan worked. He got so caught up in relaying all the details of his recent travels that she could feel the tension easing up in his muscles and the fear of the bath water drifting from his mind. She politely nodded while he spoke, making sure to interject a slew of questions throughout to keep him yapping. But Sonic was known for running his mouth, so that was plenty easy to do! There were just a few instances where Amy would scratch and knead particularly sensitive areas and his sentences would trail off into pleasurable murmurs but as soon as her hands worked their way elsewhere his narrative picked up where he left off. She secretly reveled in the delectable wickedness she felt having this power over him.
After some time, Amy reached outside of the tub to grab a bottle of shampoo. She began lathering the soap into Sonic’s quills and the sensation turned him into putty in her hands. He closed his eyes and sank into her, practically purring at her touch. Amy giggled at his incoherent speech and leaned in to whisper in his ear, pinning his face to her bosom. “What’s that?” she teased. “I can’t understand you.”
He nuzzled into her soft chest and absentmindedly slipped his hands from the rim of the basin down Amy’s back. The feel of his fingers firmly raking down her flesh made her gasp but she promptly held her breath to not break his comfortable trance. She focused on grooming his scalp, trying to suppress the fire rising inside her. “This… feels… amazing…” he moaned. The rhythmic pressure Sonic was applying to the sensitive dimples in her lower back was making it difficult to focus. She decided she’d better wrap this bath up fast so they could move on to another form of quality time together.
“You love me, right?” she panted.
“Oh yeah,” Sonic sighed dreamily into her bosom.
“And you know I love you, right?”
Sonic’s brows furrowed, sensing the trepidation in Amy’s voice. He was slower to answer this time. “…Yyyeah…”
“And you trust me?”
His eyes shot open, suddenly very aware of how submerged he was in the bath water.
“Amy.”
She hugged him close to her, hoping to ease his worries with her feminine curves. “You’re not going to like this part but I promise it’ll be over before you know it!”
“WhA-?!” Sonic yelped when, in an impressive display of speed and strength, Amy used a reversal to flip them around, laying Sonic down with his back to the floor of the tub and she straddled on top of him. He clenched his eyes shut and held his breath in the panic of being shoved mostly underwater, though his face and ears were plenty safe from being submerged. His hands immediately left her and braced the edges of the tub again.
She reached under him to release the drain then turned the water spout on to rinse him with fresh water. “You need to breathe,” Amy encouraged empathetically.
“Mm-mmm!” he grunted in objection. He’d be shaking his head aggressively if he wasn’t at risk of waterboarding himself!
She carefully combed her fingers through his quills under the running water. “Baby, you’re gonna pass out if you don’t breathe,” she reminded him. “Just focus on me, okay?”
Hesitantly, Sonic opened his eyes just enough to glare at Amy. She scoffed at his obstinance but quickly corrected her tone to be reassuring once again. “Good...” She honestly was very proud of him for doing all this for her. “Now breathe with me.” Amy used one hand to demonstrate the cadence of her breath, inhaling and exhaling in a deep, slow rhythm. Her other hand continued rinsing and smoothing his fur hurriedly.
Sonic exhaled forcibly in frustration, but his gaze did shift from glaring at her to following the waving of her hand. It took a few stuttering attempts, but eventually, he was able to sync his lungs with hers.
Why the hell did I agree to this? he thought to himself, sulking. Well, he knew why. But he was still annoyed! Sure, parts of it… most of it… was good. Really damn good. And maybe with practice, I coulda gotten the hang of baths… But now this?! She’s pinned me down, just one false move away from drowning me, and she expects me to relax? ‘Focus on me,’ she says, HA! Looking at her never calms me down anyway… It only ever… gets me… riled up…
Amy leaned over him once more, turning off the faucet. “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She was grinning proudly when she leaned back, but her cocky expression was quickly replaced with concern when she noticed how rough and heavy Sonic was panting. Oh no, maybe it was that difficult for him after all.
Just as she was about to apologize, his eyes darted up to meet hers and the intensity of his stare made her entire body quiver. “Ah,” she gasped in realization. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt a noticeable shift happening to him from beneath her. She licked her lips and cleared her throat to try and compose herself.
“Mmmaybe,” Amy muttered, “...we should… finish this conversation in the other room?” Her fingertips trailed down Sonic’s heaving chest and traced the muscles in his abdomen. “Unless of course you’re too hungry?” She winced at the suggestion of putting this on pause, but she remembered they were supposed to be having lunch right now.
In one fell swoop Sonic had lifted them both up out of the now empty bath. His arms were wrapped under her rear for support and pinned her hips so tightly to his. They each moaned as he kissed her ravenously. “I’m starving,” he growled into her lips before sprinting into the bedroom.
#my fanfiction#my fanfics#sonamy#nsfw-ish#did you catch the Sonic Unleashed reference in there?#I love whenever you can agree to romance with Amy in the games hehehe#sonic trash#sonic the hedgehog#amy rose#sth#one shot#fluff#spicy#spicy fluff#steamy
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“A LOVED ONE WANTS YOU TO PREPARE FOR THEIR DEATH!”
The envelope is screaming at you, all bright and happy colors. You’ve never held one of these in your own hands, you only saw pictures of them on the internet. You’d kind of thought those images had to have been manipulated, that the colors couldn’t possibly be that. It’s a non-serif font. Not for the first time, you wonder if death just stops being sad in the future.
People started getting mail from the future a year or so ago. Nobody believed them at first of course, and many people still don’t. You were on the fence until today. A lot of it looked real, but you knew how well people can fake things these days, too. Right now, the postman is still in your living room, one foot on your floor, the other foot in his portal, a mesmerizing swirl of nothingness, of a hole in the world, that just opened up in your home for him to deliver your mail. It’s only ever this company. People have figured out since that they just have a monopoly on time-travel mail, this funeral home. The story is that so many people couldn’t afford their loved ones’ funeral costs that, instead of making funerals cheaper, this future conglomerate of funeral homes invested in time-travel technology to send messages to the past. Now people know, if their loved ones want them to, when those loved ones will die, and they can start saving up. Inside the envelope is the dying person’s name, their time of death, their ideal funeral date, and an estimate for how much it will cost.
That’s the theory.
“What,” you croak, the open envelope quaking in your hands. “Wait. What does this mean?”
The postman that only half exists in your living room and half exists several decades in the future, gives you the look of a minimum wage employee who has a lot of other stops yet to make today. You can see something you assume to be an electric cigarette or something similar in one of his hands, the one that’s already back through the portal. You really hate to keep him. “Kinda what it says in the letter,” he says.
“But,” you say. “But this doesn’t make sense, she’s already—”
“Listen,” says the postman. “I’m just the postman.”
He steps through, and with a loud pop, the portal closes behind him, leaving you alone in your home with the letter as the only proof any of this happened.
You call your brother. He’s the only one out of the three of you who still lives in your hometown. “Hey, what’s up?” he says. Does that mean only you got the envelope? Does it mean a portal opened in his mailbox instead while he’s at work, and he hasn’t gotten to check it yet?
“Hey,” you say back. “Have you been to mom’s grave recently?”
He makes a pensive noise. “Not super recently, why?”
“Can you go today?” Dread seeps like tar into your lungs. “I need to know she’s still in there.”
*
happy halloween month! :) i saw @aiweirdness' botober prompts this morning and decided to do a little thing. i don't really draw much, but i can rarely walk past a good prompt list without leaving a few words. i have ideas for more prompts, but who knows if i'll keep it up! for now enjoy this one, for the prompt "time-traveling postman." it's been on my mind all day.
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So I'm watching Netflix's Castlevania and I've got to say every time a non-european show includes a map of Europe, it gives me brain damage
It's the year of our lord 1477~ and Europe does not look like that
Now I realize this is fiction, there are vampires and demons, but this is real Europe, they could've just set it in a random fantasy setting, they did not and this is not 1477 Europe
So what exactly is wrong here and why am I, a European that's otherwise terrible at geography, being a bitch about it?
The eastern part is pretty okay for post-middle-age map standards (I mean Moldavia is way too big and close and Hungary way too small and the borders should be a bit different but), maps weren't historically very accurate when it comes to the shapes and sizes of countries since we had no way of like, looking at them from high above
However something like borders with other countries would be damn important and there's mistakes there, that chunk of Poland at the bottom is supposed to belong to Hungary and Poland shouldn't actually touch Austria at all
The lines I drew are also not the most accurate cause this is a terrible map but basically the Kingdom of Poland should not expand to the west at all, there behind the line is the Holy Roman Empire (mostly modern Germany) and Bohemia (modern Czechia), (which was included in the HRE at the time according to some sources?), should also be there on the map
That's also the whole reason I even went back to the scene with the map at all, cause Saint-Germain mentioned he talked with the KING of BOHEMIA but BOHEMIA is NOT on the MAP.
The actual king of Bohemia around this time was Vladislaus II of Hungary who was originally from Poland (#just europe things). Which doesn't mean it was part of Hungary or Poland cause that's just not how the politics worked at the time. One king was often a king of multiple countries at once with them still being separate countries.
Austria is also way too close in shape to modern Austria which is also not right and since the Roman emperor at the time was Austrian it should really be a part of HRE way more than Bohemia that straight up disappeared.
Also Bavaria was not a city??? It was (and still is) a region if anything and not at all on the same level as Budapest, the placement of Transylvania is just as funky as the placement of Moldavia and what in god's name is Bosnia doing right under Austria??
Anyway if this isn't just non-europeans drawing Europe wrong the implications here are mostly that the Holy Roman Empire shriveled up and died which is not supposed to happen until a few centuries later, which would make sense if the church essentially brought hell on Earth by pissing off Dracula. Then Poland took over I suppose.
The rest could be explained by crap cartography of the post-middle-ages and small changes in politics due to the whole Dracula night hordes thing but I still needed to get this off my chest
If anyone can tackle (or tackled) this better than me (which is entirely possible, as I said I'm pretty bad at geography) you can let me know
My main issue here is that I don't know if I'm supposed to be like yo that's not what Europe should look like - as in - Europe is in complete chaos rn or if I'm supposed to be like ah yes normal map of Europe
Edit: pls go to the notes for even more info about how wrong this map is <3
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Yandere DOL Headcannons
So, I've been cursed by Tumblr. Thanks to you degenerates I now know about the existence of Degrees of Lewdity, and just spent the last two or three weeks of my life completely devoted to binge playing it. While I do have MAJOR problems with how um... "broad" some of the "fetishes" get I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was a fun game. (And yes, I know you can turn them off, but why the frick is some of that crap even an option???? Just no. Right to prison.)
Anyway, this trashfire game is getting added to my list of things I now write for. So ask away for headcannons. All normal rules apply. Decided to write some yandere headcannons for non-love interest characters.
EDIT: Honestly, I don't think I'll be writing anything else for this game. I've had a dry spell with it and looking back I can't believe I even played it. 😅 Yes, I was playing Vanilla mode basically, but still, I just... I can't people. So no, I'm not doing request for this. My good girl guilt is too strong. I'm still not ready to delete this though?
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Briar
It would take a lot for someone to catch their attention. They've seen and done most everything, so you would really have to stand out in both appearance and personality to draw them in.
They like to have other people do their dirty work for them. They pay their goons to stalk you throughout the city and take pictures of you. Security is also there to keep the town pervs off of you. If you’re employed by them, they may have your fellow workers dig up information on you by rooting through your stuff in the dressing room or befriending you. When they finally do decide they has to have you, they may have their employees yank you into their car or office for a “friendly chat” so that you two can come to a sort of agreement on what kind of relationship he wants from you. Will sugarcoat it to look like just a business deal, but there’s a much more possessive motive behind it.
How they treat and interact with you if you reject them will be greatly affected by whether you are working for them or not. If you are, they are not above using some real nasty methods to keep you under their thumb, such as threatening to repeatedly have you pimped out against your will until you learn to be more obedient. If you’re not a sex worker or if you’re a virgin, they may simply pay to have a gang rough you up a bit as opposed to having them rape you, though they’ll make sure they leave a threatening message that one of your close friends may be on the receiving end of that treatment if you don’t come to them. Oh, and they are not playing. They have absolutely no qualms with carrying out their threats.
Leighton
I literally hate this man on a deep, personal level.
If you’re a student, they will have all kinds of excuses made to have you sent to their office. If you’re a delinquent this will be easy, but I see Leighton liking to take advantage of an innocent student, because that’s the kind of pile of human bile and horesecrap that he is. They would have you drawn in by either inventing reasons for you to need detention and discipline or wanting to “make sure you’re ok” because they supposedly heard your home life was difficult or that you weren’t feeling well. May want to give you “personal” health inspections.
With their camera fetish they’re going to want lots of pictures of you in every possible state. May also request “special” videos of you. If you have agreed and ever want to stop, it really sucks to be you, because they’ll threaten to release them if you aren’t obedient.
If you show any interest in a fellow student, they will make sure to pull them aside for "discipline" as well, and may even have you join in. They're perfectly fine with a threesome as long at the end of the day you realize your theirs.
Remy
I hate to burst ya’ll’s perverted bubbles, but I don’t think Remy would do the cow treatment with their love interest. They look at the player as cattle when they buy them and treat them as such. While they may have a certain “special interest” in tending to you, at the end of the day, you’re a cow, and they are not screwing a cow.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Their personality is extremely domineering and if they want something, they have made it clear throughout the course of the game that they get it. They will use and even take sadistic glee to an extent in using force to get what they want, as is shown in how they ransacks Alex’s farm and how they whips the player with joy when they refuse to plow. So if they have their eyes on a someone, they are getting them and taming them into submission. I just don’t think it would be through the cow treatment.
May try to woo you the more traditional way, using their riches and personality to try to win you over. If that doesn’t work though, some sabotaging your current love life and manipulating your financial situation by pulling some strings with your housing and job. If all else fails, maybe some threatening your loved ones will work. Don’t want everyone you love and care about lives being utterly ruined? They want you. Doesn’t really want to kidnap you if they don't have to, but they are not above it if things you are being a real brat or don’t really have anyone they can threaten you with.
After you either submit into entering a relationship or they abduct you, they use the carrot and stick method. Being bad gets you punished in various ways and revoking privileges, while being good has them treating you kinder and letting you do things you enjoy. They still keep you on a really tight leash though.
#I hate myself#dol#degrees of lewdity#briar the brothel owner#leighton the headmaster#remy the farmer#ya'll are a bunch of degenerates I swear
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do u have any tips for learning to draw mecha :O?
Okay I feel like potentially I’m not the best person to ask if you want to learn to draw something cool like, canon detail transformers, metal gears, or gundam simply because I’m not the greatest with mecha, I’m just confident with simplifying it to a level where I can draw it repeatedly and comfortably 😅😅 I am learning to draw mecha behind the scenes but oh my goodness it takes so much practice!
I’m assuming you ask this because of my most recent drawings of Rev! (If that s not the case please feel free to ask how I managed a specific drawing/post)
In which case, basically my best advice to drawing mecha the way I do is to :
1- draw the original design a few times as close as possible to canon! Learn the intricacies. Do this several times, and it does not have to look good, you just need to know what’s there, and from an artist’s perspective, which parts are most important. Example: You will still recognize Revenant and Pathfinder even if I do not detail in all of the metal grooves, or tiny mechanical parts, especially if I still have things like Revenant’s spidery, extending hands, or Pathfinder’s spool(-like contraptions) for his grapple on his shoulders!
2- determine the shapes! What shapes is your mecha made from?
Doesn’t have to be perfect, but create the absolute most simple shapes from the silhouette of the mecha! Use this as the base for how complex or simple you want your mecha drawing to be!
3- experiment and try again!! What’s interesting about most mecha is that the design is usually completely unique and fantasy in the sense that: such a thing does not actually exist in real life, but ARE based on things we see everyday. They’re SUPPOSED to be difficult and convoluted and just strange. Think of them the same way you would a dragon. There’s so so many kinds of dragon in fiction, based on everything from owls to reptiles to bugs. Mecha can be inspired by analog TV sets, heavy machinery, or even non electrical things with mechanical components (think: levers, pulleys, wheels, etc.).
Lastly, check out some folks on YouTube who’ve definitely got a better grasp on mecha if you’re looking to get more realistic with it! Here’s a playlist I’ve put together of videos I’ve been watching to understand better!
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Some random bits of info about my oc A-Sans while I’m in the car 🦅 sorry it’s kind of long
He wears the same thing every single day no matter the occasion and he only changes when he has to wash his clothes (which is rarely + he immediately switches back into them once they’re washed)
He loves noise which is why he hangs around busy places to nap -He also loves napping and never misses an opportunity to sleep
He makes friends pretty easily when people actually talk to him, animals see him as scary and never approach him
As you know from his lil lore, he met Ink once and poor ink always gets that “Can you fix this and that bla bla bla” and when Ink said he couldn’t help A didn’t mind he wasn’t able to help him
More down below, don’t want this post taking up someone’s whole feed 🦐🦐
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A doesn’t blame anyone for anything, he thinks there’s always a reason behind how someone acts/thinks and he sympathizes for them. Unless they’re being crazy then he’s like “there is no hope for this one”
A usually has an eye closed because he’s too lazy to open them both at the same time
His arms never just hang, his hands go into his pockets on default and when he’s sitting they cross when they can
He wears mittens sometimes that are the same color as his coat fluff (when I don’t want to draw his hands 🔥)
Harsh weather hardly affects him due to him getting used to the horrid weather in his au
He pretty much has the freedom to wander wherever he wants au wise, his body technically isn’t real since if he were to die he’d just reset back into his au like he was supposed to. Though he only hangs around in aus with the surface available for the variety of areas.
A tries his best not to get attached to anyone due to the amount of resets in his au messing with his view of reality, he thinks he could wake up any second back there and doesn’t want to miss anyone or have someone miss him (He sucks at this though and he can’t bring himself to not get attached)
When he teleports he disappears in the blink of an eye without a sound, his magic is also unpredictable and takes him more effort to use so he hardly fights.
He has mismatched slippers. One is his original fluffy pink one full of dust, the other is a non fluffy grey one he found while he got his coat (the one he permanently borrowed)
He buried his original blue coat in a field because he felt like it had *too* much dust on it
He saw the dust on his face in a mirror once and tried scrubbing it off for a good hour or few but it only made it darker in the spots near his eyes so now he avoids mirrors
The dust got there after the wind blew a bunch on him while he was chasing after Frisk, it’s only not on the middle of his face because he wiped it off in a hurry
He pretty much completely gave up on himself and anything regarding his au, but he holds hope for everyone else. Very negative and positive at the same time
Papyrus gave up on Frisk way before him, he got so depressed he was bedridden for months at a time and Sans had to bring food up for him
He enjoys the smaller things in life, basically just relaxing since he was in a constant stress for a good 7 years until he was suddenly free from all of that. He’d be guilty about that but he drinks his sorrows away so he can’t think about anything to get sad about
I ran out of things to say plus I’m feeling sick so lmk if you have any questions or anything you wanna ask about A-Sans 🦅
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