#gaming moment am I right fellas

[bar-of-dish-soap]

playing starfield. dad gave me a gun. dad, seconds later, asked a constellation member if he could bring cookies. this is peak gaming.

[jontaro-kun]

God I love women I wish they were real

[scvrmqueen]

Tag, You’re It - Danny Johnson

┊ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — one-shot.

┊ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — Danny Johnson x afab!reader.

┊ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — SMUT! dubious consent, descriptions of gore, vaginal sex, use of knife handle for penetration, dirty talk, unprotected sex, no aftercare, Danny is literally his own warning. 

┊ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ — 2,982.

┊ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼ I got this idea after listening to Tag, You’re It by Melanie Martinez. Takes place during Dead by Daylight. I don’t own the rights to Danny or DBD. You’re just trying to survive another trial when Danny proposes a little game. 

“Oh, you were so close, kitten!” A mirthless chuckle slipped from the macabre figure perched above you, his hips pinning you to the frigid earth. Your struggles had promptly ceased once his steel blade found purchase against your throat. 

“And to think, one more step and you would have been home free,” he tsked, blade digging further into your sensitive flesh to reveal a crimson stream. “Didn’t know you could be so cruel, kitten, trying to leave me on my lonesome without so much as a goodbye kiss.” 

“Fuck you, Danny,” you spat, glaring into the shadowy abyss of black fabric that concealed his eyes. “Kill me and be done with it, I’m sick of playing your fucked up games.” 

An audible gasp sounded beneath the foreboding mask, a gloved hand - the one not preoccupied with mutilating you - covering his heart in feigned shock. “Y/n you wound me! Where’s your fighting spirit, huh? C’mon, I know you have that ‘I’ll go out kicking and screaming’ final girl mentality.” 

You were mere feet from a successful trial, sparing a glance toward the cement hatch. What anger bubbled in your chest was steadily replaced with fatigue, an overwhelming sense of feebleness rendering your fight or flight instinct futile. You pressed your scorched fingertips into the dirt beneath you. A shaky breath pierced through pursed lips, frustrated tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as you realized just how close you had been to besting the Ghost Face. 

“Aw, doll. You’re so pretty when you cry for me,” Danny cooed, his blade smearing blood on your cheek as it moved to collect the pearly drops. “Tell you what, I’m feeling generous. Play one last little game with yours truly, and I’ll let you have the hatch.” 

Mouth agape, you waited for the inevitable ‘ha, gotcha’ moment. When Danny remained silent - a phenomena in itself, you finally responded, “what game?”

“Atta girl.” He lowered his head until cheap plastic scraped your cheek, his faux mouth resting by your ear. Leather and copper flooded your senses, head reeling at the intimacy of his proximity. “You’re familiar with tag, aren’t you, doll?” 

You scoffed, “tag?” 

“That’s what I said, Y/n.” You could feel the deep chuckle rumble through his chest. “Try to keep up, sweet thing, you’re smarter than that. Now, if I catch you - and we both know I will - I get to do whatever I want with you.” 

“But you won’t kill me?” The question was more breathless than you intended. Whatever he wanted? Your cooperation was founded on the promise of making it out alive. Still, you couldn’t help but hesitate. If Danny’s intention wasn’t to give you to the entity, what did he want? 

“Cross my heart hope to die, kitten.” His words dripped with deranged glee, the rough edge to his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll even give you a ten second head start, being the generous fella I am.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “Get the hell off me so we can get this over with.” 

“There’s the Y/n I know and love.” A leather clad hand wrapped around your throat, using the leverage to drag you to your feet. You reluctantly complied, attempting to ignore the traitorous heat that pooled in your abdomen. 

You sprinted in the opposite direction the moment he released you. 

Aside from a guaranteed win, this game hardly differed from the demented reality of every trial. You were perpetually haunted by that damned mask - led to slaughter each time the sanctity of the campfire was torn away. Unlike your counterparts, your penchant for fighting back had earned Danny’s favor from day one. His insatiable obsession blossomed during your first trial, when you drove a jagged plank through his abdomen. 

Had you predicted he would save you for last each trial, you wouldn’t have been so damn heroic. 

Your lungs burned, legs aching as your pace gradually relented. You spared a glance over your shoulder to determine Danny’s proximity. Though momentarily relieved to be greeted by empty darkness, his absence ultimately proved equally troubling. Ghost Face was synonymous with stealth, often remaining undetected until his signature hunting blade was buried deep in your gut. It was impossible to determine where he prowled now. 

Haddonfield offered little room to be chased. Eventually, you would have to loop back to the hatch in order to escape, a feat which would require you to pass through the decrepit homes. Though entering structures always proved to be a precarious gamble, remaining on the street much longer practically ensured your capture. 

You bypassed the first few houses you passed with the intention of throwing Danny off your trail. Zig-zagging through abandoned vehicles, you staggered toward the Myers residence in hopes of a momentary reprieve. Hiding in the abandoned building was futile - Danny had prompted a game of tag after-all. The moment you ceased moving he would be there, his merciless shadows ensnaring you. You prayed slipping through the rooms undetected would buy you some time. 

Pausing briefly upon entering, you attempted to regulate your rapid breathing in order to detect his presence. Satisfied, you darted into the kitchen to grab a butcher’s knife from the familiar wooden block. Danny hadn’t specified rules regarding self defense - his mistake. Should the occasion arise, you fully intended on making grabbing you a hellish feat. 

No sooner had you grabbed the knife did a familiar dark chuckle sound from the doorway to the porch. You turned slowly towards the culprit, as if minor movements would shroud you from his gaze. 

“Really, bunny? The Myer’s house? Tsk, never knew you were so cliché.” Well, at least you knew where he was now. Spinning on your feet, you sprinted back toward the main entrance. Knowing Danny, the moment you stepped out onto the porch he would be there to grab you, blade against your throat and arms encircling your waist. Hesitation would cost you precious seconds, leaving you to scamper up the stairway on shaky legs. 

“Annndd going up the stairs?” His distant voice only caused you to increase your pace. “Y/n, haven’t I taught you to be better than those horror movie bimbos?”

 As you reached the room with a large opening to the roof, you couldn’t resist screaming a hearse, “Fuck you, asshole!” Once on the roof, you would slip into the backyard and make a swift exit back to the hatch. You could taste victory on your tongue, beyond pleased to have outwitted Ghost Face. 

Or at least that was the plan. 

You hadn’t planned on Danny tackling you mere feet from the roof, his imposing figure weighing heavy on your back. Thrashing beneath him proved futile. He grabbed your wrists with little resistance, pinning your arms by your head. The cold hardwood was pressed roughly against your cheek, and from the awkward angle you watched as his mask lowered to your ear. 

“Tag, you’re it.” His deep chuckle reverberated through your spine. 

“Let me up, Danny, and I’ll gladly come get you.” Clutching the butcher knife tighter, you wriggled your ass slightly in hopes of providing a momentary distraction. A throaty groan sounded above you, his hips digging further into your own. His grasp loosened, and you used your remaining strength to twist on your back. You were quick to extend the blade toward him in a punishing stab. But Danny was always quicker. 

“Feisty,” he growled, his hand encircling your wrist and slamming it to the ground with excessive force. A small yelp escaped you as the knife flew from your grasp. 

“But I think you’re forgetting the rules, kitten. Naughty girl.” You were pinned beneath him once more, glare burning through his black mesh. “Let me remind you what happens when you don’t. fucking. listen.” 

Danny shifted, capturing both your wrists in one hand, his knife skimming your waist. The cool steel scraped against your stomach as it lifted your shirt. Before you could even comprehend struggling, your hip burned with a familiar intensity. Searing pain crept up your side as Danny sliced into your sensitive flesh - a hiss escaping through clenched teeth in a poor attempt not to scream. The blade curved against you, shallow in its path but agonizing enough to demonstrate his wrath. 

“Ah, perfect!” Danny leaned back on his heels to observe his work. Your eyes drifted down to observe a jagged “D” carved into the left side of your hip. 

“You sick fuck!” You shouted, all thoughts of self preservation having dissipated. The wound would heal upon returning to the campfire, but it didn’t stop the blinding rage that permeated your senses. 

“Oh, Y/n,” he snarled, using the blade to slice through the middle of your tank-top. “You have no idea just how sick I really am.” He traced the steel around the top of your exposed breasts, humming his approval as your breath hitched. The knife slipped beneath the thin fabric in the middle of your bra, exposing your chest to his ravenous gaze. A traitorous moan slipped from your lips - a wanton sound that you attempted to disguise as disgust by struggling beneath him. 

“Danny-” his name tumbled from your throat with unintended reverence. Your voice trembled with thinly veiled desire, leaving you to pinch your lips together. You desperately hoped Danny hadn’t recognized your slip. 

“Fuck, kitten, I love it when you say my name.” His hips bore into your own with bruising pressure, forcing a haphazard squeal from you in response. Admittedly, this wasn’t the first time that you had been in a compromising position beneath the killer. While the previous instances had ended in your untimely demise, this moment whispered promises of something more - something deep-seated that you could never come back from. 

“You know, I can’t count how many times I’ve heard your screams of pain,” he muttered, the deep, guttural sound going straight to your core. “I can’t wait to hear what you sound like screaming for more.” Without further warning, his chilled, leather fingertips pushed past your denim shorts, briefly grazing the hem of your panties. 

You didn’t recognize the sound that emitted from the depths of your chest as he slid into you - facing little resistance much to your dismay. His finger curled, stimulating a part of you that hadn’t been unearthed for far too long. Dragging in and out, hitting a spot that made your vision dance with speckles of white, you couldn’t find the strength to resist his ministrations. 

“You like this, don’t you? What a dirty little girl you are, bunny.” His voice fractured your lust-fueled haze, attempting to slip your hands from his grasp as you bucked beneath him. Your resistance hardly fazed Danny, earning no more than an amused tsk as he tightened his hold. 

“Now, now, bunny. If you’re going to be naughty and not play by the rules, I’m going to have to punish you.” A wisp of fear at the promise of discipline caused your core to clench. Danny groaned as he removed his fingers completely, the sudden emptiness sobering your senses. The reprieve was short-lived, the leather previously working you replaced with the blunt handle of a familiar knife. 

“What the fuck -” Your words slipped into an unexpected cry of pleasure as the handle brushed your center with expert precision. Discomfort melded into bliss, your will to fight a distant echo in the recesses of your mind. His concept of ‘punishment’ seemed skewed, particularly as a skilled finger danced along your clit in tandem with the blade’s thrusts. Your eyes fluttered close, walls clenching with bruising force as you reached the precipice - nearly pushed over that delicious edge - 

And just as soon as sweet release had been promised, it was stolen. 

A pitiful whine escaped you as his attention ceased, robbing you of the peak you so desperately craved. Ah, punishment, indeed. 

“Ah, ah, Y/n. Only good girls get to cum.” Danny adjusted his position so his hips were once again pressed firmly between your legs. Much to your dismay, the coarse fabric of his pants caused you to grind against him - desperately searching for friction.

“I might consider being merciful and letting you cum on my cock if you beg me for it.” His deep rasp trailed into a lilting tone, teasing you - humiliating you. Even in all your torturous deaths dealt by Danny’s blade, you had never begged him to spare you. Though your hips chased his, desperate to ease the ache between your legs, you would sooner die than plead for him to fuck you. 

“You call that merciful?” You scoffed, attempting to ease the tremble in your voice. “You’re even more fucked up than I thought if you think I want you.” 

“Oh, I think you’re pretty fucked in the head yourself, kitten.” Those fingers slid between your thighs once more, gliding up your center to collect evidence of your arousal. “You can lie to yourself all you want. But see this?” He pressed the glistening leather to your lips, forcing your mouth open to taste your body’s betrayal. “This doesn’t lie.”

“So, you’re going to be a good girl, and you’re going to take everything I have to offer. Every. Last. Goddamn. Inch,” he growled, each word only fueling your thinly veiled desire. You wanted to protest - wanted to kick and scream like a good little survivor. But something within you, some deep, animalistic urge only satiated by the thrill of danger, wouldn’t permit it. Maybe Danny was right. Maybe the endless torment of fighting to survive fueled something savage - a ruinous need to be ravaged by the enemy. 

Saving you from the false pretenses of your moral obligation to resist, Danny flipped you onto your stomach in a swift motion. One firm arm wrapped around your waist, using the leverage to lift your hips up. With your face and arms planted to the floor, the harsh arch of your figure placed your bare ass on display for Danny. 

Without warning, two fingers were buried deep within you, setting a brutal pace that set your body ablaze with burning embers. Just as your walls began to flutter, Danny removed his fingers before delivering a sharp slap to your sensitive flesh. He waited a moment, allowing you to drift further from the promise of release, before claiming you once more. You lost track of time as he continued to edge you - cooing dirty words in your ear and chuckling at your growing frustration. 

“You know how to make this stop, kitten.” Your body ached, core pulsing as his touch parted once more. Danny trailed his blade down your thighs, collecting the slick of your arousal. You had been so determined not to beg. But now as you burned with stifled desire, begging for release seemed preferable to continuing this torture. 

“Danny,” you whined, aghast at how difficult stringing together a sentence had become. “Please, please, just fuck me already you fucking psychotic -” 

You were cut off by your own hoarse scream as Danny pushed into you, forcing you to take his entire length in one fatal thrust. You arched further into the ground, allowing him to reach impossibly deeper as he brushed your cervix. He was so big, feeling as though he would split you apart as he snapped his hips against yours. 

“That’s it, Y/n - fuck, you’re so tight. Bet you haven’t had anybody fuck this sweet cunt like this, have you?” You could only moan in response, clenching around him. 

A gloved hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back roughly so his mask rested by your ear. “I asked you a fucking question, bunny. Nobody fucks you like this, do they?” 

“No!” You squealed. “Only you, Danny - Danny.” His pace increased as you whimpered his name, thrusts intensifying until your looming orgasm was forced upon you. Your body trembled as your release washed over you, waves of fierce pleasure threatening to consume your very existence. 

“Yes - yes, that’s my girl.” He didn’t slow down, allowing you no reprieve from the overstimulation that wracked your core. You attempted to pull away, to form a coherent thought that would save you from the onslaught of fervent sensations. 

“Danny s’too much,” you slurred. A venomous laugh sounded in turn as he flipped you over again, hands gripping the undersides of your thighs to press your knees to your chest. He resumed his brutal pace, brushing the pad of his thumb against your clit as you writhed helplessly beneath him. 

“C’mon, Y/n, you can take one more can’t you?” That familiar pressure was already building. You forced your fluttering eyes to gaze upon his mask, the mere sight of his looming presence causing you to tumble over the edge once more. You screamed his name, overwhelmed by the earth-shattering intensity of  your climax. 

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” he groaned. Danny’s pace became frenzied, each thrust forcing brutally past your fluttering walls. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you? You want to be dripping with my cum when you sit around that campfire with your pathetic little friends.” 

“Fuck. You,” You managed, the breathy words lacking their usual bite. Your fire only spurred him on as he buried himself to the hilt within you, hot ropes of his cum coating your insides. 

As he slipped from you, allowing you to come down from your orgasmic high, the weight of your actions settled in your chest with crushing realization. Danny placed a finger under your chin to return your gaze to him - an uncharacteristically gentle gesture. 

Whatever insults you prepared to spew were quickly lost as he moved his mask - revealing a finely sculpted jaw covered in dark stubble. He leaned in close, pouty lips hovering above your own and stealing the breath from your lungs. 

“Until next time, kitten. And there will be a next time.” 

[the-laughing-lunatic]

Scout x reader who's never been to a baseball game before (ROMANTIC)

(I was bored and wrote this, I actually have been to multiple baseball games before but my ass still doesn't know anything about it. Reader's gender neutral as always. Trying to get better at writing oneshots so have this ig :/ Word count: ~1400)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

It was strangely calm that day, it was one of the occasional days off that the mercs had. You sat on your bed, reading through some random magazine you’d picked up here or there when your boyfriend Scout barged in. “Hey doll!”

You continued flicking through the pages of the magazine, not flinching. You’d gotten used to this after a year of knowing him and two months of dating him. The door might as well not have existed at this point. “Yes?”

“Wanna go to the game today? With me?” he said, flashing you two tickets in his hand.

“What kinda game?” You looked up.

“Only the best game to be created,” he said with a smirk. “Baseball.”

You shrugged. “Sure, I don’t have anything else to do—” you barely got out before you were tackled with a hug by Scout, your magazine falling somewhere on the bed as you were wrapped up in his arms. “Jesus, you’re that excited, huh?”

He only chuckled and kissed your cheek. “Hell yeah I am! I get to have my two favorite things, baseball and you, dollface.” 

You roll your eyes and give him a kiss on the cheek back, relaxing into his arms for a moment as you soak up his warmth. “...wait, am I below baseball?”

“Uhh…”

ੈ♡˳

“Bye Engie! Thanks for the ride!” Scout yelled out as Engineer drove away in his pickup truck, leaving the two of you to the sea of people waiting to get in despite the insufferable heat. 

“Geez, are there normally this many people at these things?” you said as you held onto Scout’s hand to not lose him as you walked to the back of the line for the ticket booth.

“What, ya never been to a baseball game before?” he said with a laugh. It was a rhetorical question from his perspective, but not for you. 

“No.” Scout’s jaw dropped. 

“W- whaddya mean you’ve never been to a baseball game before, w- why? How?” In his mind, baseball was the most amazing game in the world, and it was simply a crime that the most amazing person in the world had never seen it.

You shrugged. “Just never did.” Scout was full of feelings about this. On one hand, you were his dollface and it hurt that you had been deprived of one of the greatest pleasures life could offer. On the other hand, he got to be the guy to introduce you to your first baseball game, which had the same significance as a first kiss. In his mind at least.

“D’ya at least know the game? Like, how it works?”

You thought for a moment before saying: “Um, you hit balls and run a lot?”

Hoo boy. Scout sighed. “I mean- you ain’t wrong but ya ain’t right. Listen doll, so there’s nine guys on each team, right? And one of the guys is the pitcher for the inning. The pitcher, he’s the fella who . . .”

ੈ♡˳

“. . . and then the outfielders, once you have those fellas you can get somethin’ called a line drive where it hits right to ‘em without touchin’ the ground–”  

It had twenty non-stop minutes of Scout explaining the entire concept of baseball to you, and if you heard another way a ball can be thrown you were gonna snap. You took his face in your hands and kissed him before another move could be explained. 

His ears flushed red and he froze for a moment after you pulled away. “Uh, what was that all about, doll?”

“I love you but if I hear another word about baseball I’m gonna lose it. Can I just watch the game with you and enjoy it that way?” you ask. 

“Fine, fine—” he cuts himself off as the two of you are both hit with the realization. You said I love you. Shit, shit, shit shit shitshitshit!

Before you can stammer out a sorry or any other form of explanation, the woman in the ticket booth says “Next!” and you’re left to panic while Scout gives her the tickets.

We’ve only been dating for a few months, is that weird to say? It must be, he didn’t say it back. Maybe he didn’t hear me? No, he definitely heard me. Oh god, I fucked this up bad, fuck—

“Hey dollface, she said we can go in, c’mon,” he said with a smile, squeezing your hand and leading you into the stadium. You two found a spot in the bleachers, luckily under the shade of an awning. You nervously bounced your leg as you prepared for the game to begin.

He’s not treating me any differently, maybe he’s just gonna ignore that I said that. Please, god just ignore it. 

“Geez, real anxious to see the game, huh doll?” he said to you with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” Maybe this would all be okay, another normal date. Just ignore that gross feeling in your gut and it’ll be fine.

ੈ♡˳

It was not all fine. Everytime the word ‘love’ came out of Scout’s mouth you couldn’t help but feel a growing annoyance. And he said it a lot.

“Man, I love that guy!”

“ —fuckin’ love this hot dog—”

“Love the view, right doll?”

It’s like he was rubbing it in. The gross feeling, the loud noise and the tight packed crowd all teamed up to give you a headache. Great. You distracted yourself from the feeling by leaning into him and eating your popcorn, desperately trying to understand the game in front of you. Maybe you should have listened a little more to your boyfriend’s explanation. “You cold dollface?

“Nah, just tired and have a little headache, ‘m fine,” you said as you popped another piece of popcorn in your mouth.

He wrapped his arm around you so you could have more support. “We, uh, don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, y’know. It’s the bottom of the fifth if you wanna get out of here.”

“No, no, it‘s fine, gotta stay for my first baseball game. Besides, isn’t that rude to just leave?”

“Naw, it’s fine. ‘S pretty normal not to stay the whole nine innings for your first game. ‘Sides, I don’t want you to feel like shit. We could go to a game some other time, how’s that sound?”

You smiled softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good, now c’mon,” he said as he picked you up in his arms to carry you out of the stadium.

“Jeremy, my head is the thing that hurts, not my legs. I can still walk, you doofus,” you laughed. He kissed your forehead. 

“Whatever you say, sweetcake, but I’m still carryin’ ya.”

ੈ♡˳

It was dark out, and Jeremy had just finished calling Engineer on the pay phone while you sat on a nearby bench: Scout’s jacket draped over you. Only a few people milled about, leaving to their cars underneath the street lamps.

Jeremy sat down next to you, reaching to hold your hand. “Engie’s gonna be here in ‘bout ten minutes...you alright doll?”

You delicately took it. “I dunno…”

“Did anything happen?”

“I mean, kinda? It’s stupid though, dunno why I’m getting so focused on it.”

“Can you tell me?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the concrete. “Well, I don’t know if you actually heard me, but earlier I accidentally said that I love you. I- I mean, not accidentally, I do, but it just, y’know, slipped out.”

“I heard you doll,” Scout said, tilting your face up to look at him.

“Then why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I get if you don’t love me yet, I’m not gonna blame you, but just say something.”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know if you were bein’ serious, doll,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Y’know, you’re amazing and sweet, and almost every time I’ve liked someone this fantastic they’re just with me for laughs.”

“Jeremy…we’ve been dating for two months, did you really think that I don’t care about you?”

“Well I mean, two months right. I kinda thought you would’ve already said ‘I love you’ by now, so just- I dunno. . . do you actually love me?”

“Of course I do, Jeremy, I just was nervous because I thought I said it too early,” you said, leaning closer to him, looking at how his face caught the light of the street lamp.

“I love you too,” Scout said with a dorky smile before pulling you close and kissing you. You probably would’ve kissed for much longer but the sound of a truck horn interrupted you. 

“Hey lovebirds, get in!” Engineer shouted from the truck.

Scout pulled away and blushed before getting in with you, holding your hand tight the whole time. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[gingiesworld]

Plaything (Kinktober)

Jane Banner x GN! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Jane tied up and spread. Amab! Reader

Taglist: @bababaka @natashaswife4125 @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin

18+ MINORS DNI

Jane didn't really understand how she had got herself in her position right now. Tied up to a bed. One bed post for each limb as she lay bare. Y/N, a well known mob boss was sat on a chair at the foot of the bed. Watching each breath that Jane had took, the wetness that was pooling between her legs.

"You know, I think I am off of my game if they sent a rookie to come after me." They smirked as they played with the blade in their hands.

"I am not a rookie." Jane told them confidently, given the situation.

"Well, with the you being tied up says otherwise Ms Banner." Y/N stood up and approached the side of the bed, looking down upon her as they soon danced the cool blade around her skin. "I know who you are. I did my research."

"Fuck you." Jane spat at them as they chuckled darkly. Soon carving their initials into her side, causing her to bite her lip at the brief pain.

"You know, I did originally expect an older fella but you were a surprise." They smirked as they placed the blade down on the table before their fingers started to dance around her skin. Jane avoided eye contact as her skin began to tingle beneath their touch. "The usual ones, I just carve them up and dispose of them like garbage, but you." Their hand made it's way towards her centre, running their finger through her folds as she tried and failed to hold back a moan. "I think I might just keep you for my own pleasure." They hummed at the taste of her arousal on their fingers before they thrust three fingers inside of her. "All mine to play with. My very own plaything."

"I am not yours." Jane tried only to be cut off when a moan left her lips as Y/N brushed against her g spot.

"Those sounds suggest otherwise." They whispered in her ear before leaning back to look into her eyes. A smirk on their face. "You would be the perfect breeder for my heir." They sneered as Jane shook her head, their breath fanning over her lips as they added a fourth finger.

"No." She told them as Y/N just smirked.

"Would you rather die?" They feigned their own grief, as though they cared for her. "Don't worry, in 9 months you will die the moment our child is in my arms."

"No." She cried as she spasmed beneath them, shamefully coming as they laughed darkly. "No." She watched as they undone their belt and removed their trousers and underwear.

"You will look perfect all round." They lined their cock with her puffy dripping cunt before slamming into her. Not giving her time to adjust as they rammed into her, hard and deep. Jane could taste blood as she bit her lip to contain her moans that wanted to escape. Although the arousal dripping from her was failing her hardened exterior. She was a mess for them and they loved it.

Their hands scratched down her sides as they reached their climax, soon lining her womb with their sperm. Once they had calmed down, they pulled out and smirked at their cum dripping down her folds. Reaching over for a butt plug, they slipped it inside of her cunt.

"Just a precaution to make sure you are bred." They smirked before leaving her, laying exposed as she tried to gather herself. The fear that she will never see her friends and family again all coming down on her as she cried into the dark room.

[bengiyo]

Knock Knock Boys Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, the boys all went to the onsen to try to bond with Jumper, to mixed results. Almond also remains perhaps more focused on Latte than Jumper because he’s so nervous, and is determined to figure out if Latte has a birthmark on his dick. Thanwa and Peak have been vibing pretty hard, and I’m into it. Thanwa has asked Peak to help him with his job applications, and Peak wants to learn how to better enjoy food. Almond also followed Latte and Lukpeach to the sex toy store and completely misunderstood what was going on. I’m currently suspicious about Thanwa’s financial situation.

As a note, @babyangelsky warned us about extreme toilet humor between 41:30 and 42:33.

I am really enjoying these cold opens to the potential end of the episode. It’s compelling every time.

I feel like we have been in this BL house before. The porch looks familiar.

Latte remains a tease and I love it.

Wouldn’t be a proper foodie if there wasn’t a special story attached to his favorite dish.

Now why did he feed that man like that?

I went to a school with corporal punishment. I’m always surprised when I see it in Thai colleges.

I really don’t want to be disappointed in Jumper lately. I am having fun with the way it feels like he’s flirting with Peak.

Fellas, is it gay to stare into each other’s eyes and search each other’s souls while holding a computer mouse together?

Thanwa’s friend looks like a Pokémon trainer.

Oh, I don’t like this guy promising compensation as he leaves a bill to Thanwa.

I’ve not vibed with a lot of BL choices this year, but I’m glad we’re getting more sexual health PSAs in the shows lately.

I think it’s very good to give Almond condoms. I get the sense he’d be nervous about getting his own.

Almond, why are you so pressed about Lukpeach if you ain’t tryina smash.

Did Seng teach Nokia how to smile like a dork?

Yes, bring Lukpeach to the party. She needs to know that this is not just two college boys on a romance track. There’s a whole house of boys.

Small things that this show earns is Thanwa being the primary cook of the household. He doesn’t come off as bossy when he’s asking Almond to go get stuff from the kitchen while he works on other food prep. It feels natural.

Oh ho! We’ve reached the cold open around the middle.

Now, Latte, don’t get jealous of a moment you helped create.

How old are we? 7 minutes in heaven?? At least they played that well right out the gate.

A game about going into closets together to see what might happen. These jokes write themselves.

Oh no. I am close to the trigger warning. This is about to be the worst scatological humor I’ve been subjected to by Thai BL. I can feel it.

NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! THIS IS SO GROSS!!!!

Girls….I am disgusted… Trust the warning. Props to Pak, Nokia, and Jaonine for playing that all the way through, but I don’t need to see that ever again.

What the hell is going on in that closet though??

I just know it’s hot as hell in this closet.

I appreciate this show giving me some kisses after that vomit scene. It’s what I deserve.

Okay, I really like this apology and reestablishment of consensual boundaries. Excellent kiss the homies content.

Welcome back, Jane. I hope you give us some answers next week.

This show is really assured, and I’m having a great time with it. I really love when a show has two couples and has them on similarly-paced advancement tracks. It offers up a lot of fun comparison. It’s clear at this point that Almond and Latte like being around each other, and Latte is becoming jealous of Almond’s interest in Jumper. It also works that Thanwa was the one to have kissed Peak already and has been waiting for him to sort it out. That was a really excellent episode. Having Jumper be such a sloppy mess on top of Almond like that is a good way to kill much of the enthusiasm he might have there, opening a lane for Latte. Good shit, Knock Knock Boys.

[heretodestroyou]

jamie tartt x rojas!reader where she’s dani’s twin or younger sister and is scared about tell him she’s dating jamie but ofc he’s just over the moon about it 🥹🥹🫶

felicidades!

pairing; jamie tartt x rojas!fem!reader (romantic), dani rojas x sister!reader (platonic/familial)

w/c; 1.08k

fandom; ted lasso (apple tv)

trigger/content warnings; my half-baked spanish, a little swearing, jamie being a clueless himbo, dani being a ray of sunshine,

stella speaks! this prompt is so adorable, i hope i’ve done it justice!! set somewhere after 2x03

Jamie feels bad.

He knows how close you are with your brother. He knows how much you hate keeping secrets from him. But he’s also grateful.

He’s only been back at Richmond for a couple months, and many of the boys are still wary around him. He doesn’t blame them, but they’re all so fiercely protective of you that his biggest worry what’ll happen to him, to your relationship when the cat is let out of the bag.

Your biggest worry is how Dani will take it. Dani isn’t the stereotypical ‘i’ll-kill-anyone-who-looks-at-her’ big brother, but he does take shielding you from the press very seriously. And dating Jamie Tartt? That’ll put you right in the spotlight.

The both of you are reaching the end of your rope, and it’s getting harder and harder to hide it.

So Jamie does the only thing he can think of. He talks to Ted.

He takes his time changing after training, carefully packing everything in his bag, a flimsy but effective way to stay after everyone has gone. He also keeps an eye on Roy, whom he’s paranoid knows Jamie is hiding something.

But the older player simply strolls past him, ignoring him as usual, and after Jamie strains his ears to make sure he’s gone, he bolts into Ted and Coach Beard’s office.

Ted looks up from his computer with a start, Beard’s attention suddenly also on Jamie. He feels the heat rise in his cheeks, but Ted simply smiles. “What can I do for you today, Jamie?”

Jamie takes a breath, and right before he speaks, he spots Nathan coming back in the locker room. He closes the door gently, turning back to the two men.

“I’m gonna be totally honest, I’ve been dating Y/n for two months now,” he starts, and Ted leans forward.

“But the thing is, nobody else except for Keeley knows. She really wants to tell Dani, and she’s not telling him because I asked her not to, but I can tell she really wants to, but what if the team beats me up? Like what if Dani is still mad at me for being such a twat and he gets the whole team to beat me up? Roy especially, he would like totally punch me in the balls and then Dani would make me break up with Y/n, but I don’t want to break up with her, but I also don’t want to get beat up, y’know?” Jamie rushes, his words tripping over each other.

Ted takes it in, leaning back in his chair and nodding. After a few moments of silence, he turns to Coach Beard.

“Coach?” He asks.

“Yeah, Coach?” Beard answers, eyes not leaving the chess game on his phone.

“Do me a favor, Coach.” Ted asks, starting to smile.

“Anything, Coach.”

Ted’s grin widens. “Call the Diamond Dogs together please Coach.”

Beard gives a nod. “You got it Coach.”

Jamie looks between them, not a clue as to what’s happening, when Nathan glides into the room, seating himself on the shelf next to Jamie. Jamie looks at Ted in confusion, but Ted just keeps smiling.

A minute later, Higgins also enters the room and gives Jamie a nod. Simultaneously, the four men start barking, and Jamie’s ready to leave when Ted speaks again.

“Fellas, turns out Beard was right. Jamie is dating mini-Rojas,” Ted says, and for the second time in five minutes, Jamie’s face heats up.

“Problem is,” Ted continues, “he’s not sure how well that’ll go over with the team, and frankly, neither am I. Ideas?”

Jamie raises his hand, and Ted points at him. “Yes, Mr. Tartt?”

“First off, the fuck is happening. Second, the fuck is happening?” Jamie asks, tucking his hands under his shirt.

Higgins grins. “We are the Diamond Dogs, and we are here to help! With your dilemma. Your Rojas Hassle, of you will.”

Jamie shook his head. “Whatever. Do I tell him or not?”

Nathan raises his hand. “Well, what I see the worst-case scenario being is the team ices you out for maybe another couple months. Do you think Y/n will side with you during that?”

Jamie twists his fingers under his shirt. “I mean, I hope so. I would be sad if she didn’t y’know cause— well she…” he trails off, his head filled with his favorite memories of the two of you.

“She inspires me to be a better person, and I think even if we had to break up cause Dani said so, I would still want to be better for her and then if I am better maybe Dani and the team’ll see that and they’ll let us date again?” Jamie looks up, glancing around the room.

Ted slaps his hand on the table. “Well lookee there, I think you’ve solved your own problem! And with limited help from us! I declare the Diamond Digs meeting over!”

Jamie begins to smile, a bit of the weight on his shoulders lifted. His smile faded when every other person in the room begins to bark, and with an eye roll, he leaves.

When he gets out, the cool breeze biting at his face, he sees you, waiting by your car. You’re chatting with your brother, who’s telling some sort of training story. His hands are flailing everywhere, and you’re giggling.

He takes a deep breath, then walks over. When he reaches you, he snakes an arm around your waist. You look up at him, the question in your eyes.

When he nods, that inquiry on your face is replaced with his favorite look: that shine of joy in your eyes, and you turn back to your brother.

Jamie takes a breath to explain, but before he can, Dani hugs him. “¡Felicidades! ¡Bienvenido a la familia, cuñado!”

Jamie looks to you for the translation, and smiles slightly when he notices your face buried in your hands. “Something you want to tell me, love?” He asks.

“He called you his brother-in-law,” you say, your voice heavy with embarrassment and muffled by your hands. Jamie’s grin widens.

“Should we plan the wedding then?” He asks. You groan loudly. Dani suddenly turns serious, and Jamie gulps. Has he overstepped?

“Por favor, do not make me wear those horrible dress shoes,” he says, his hands clasped together in front of him.

This causes you to laugh, and Jamie’a grin reappears.

The reaction Dani had was certainly not the reaction he forsaw, but it was definitely better than the one he expected.

[callsignmarz]

MDNI | 18+ | König x Reader

TW: mentions of alcohol, mild language, misplaced anger, mature scene.

“He makes you jealous.”

König knew the type of woman he married.

Especially, after a heated argument.

There at the end of the bar, you downed the last few sips of your second cosmo, reminiscing on the stupid fight you just had outside, moments ago.

“Want another?” The bartender customarily asked as he draped a hand rag over his shoulder.

You had a good buzz going.

Although, you didn’t need to go over your limit. The sober mask comes on as you pushed the empty glass away with your fingertips.

“No, I’m okay. But, just incase I change my mind; Keep my tab open.”

“What about your big fella and his friend?”

Your eyes thinned at the bartenders question with confusion quickly morphing into raw ire as you swiveled around to see König sitting at a booth with an arm purposely wrapped around some red headed bimbo.

Let the games begin, motherfucker.

In a matter of seconds, you pounced from the bar stool and like a black panther in the shadows, you blended in with the sea of bodies, stalking and observing their interactions from afar.

As a former mercenary yourself, patience became your most reliable source.

Feeling a familiar pair of eyes burning a hole into him, König swiftly turned his attention to the crowded bar, leisurely scouting until his gaze met yours.

His lips curl into a cocky smirk as he pulls the woman closer to him, triggering you to fly into a jealous rage.

Maneuvering through the horde of drunks, you wantonly drag over a nearby chair once you finally approached the two, persistently planting yourself uncomfortably close to the woman.

“Neue Freunde finden, mein Liebe? (Making new friends, my love?)” You asked König while your eyes fixate on the red haired woman, maintaining a toothy grin.

“Ja, das glaube ich. (Yeah, I guess I am.)”

The red head’s brows crease together, feeling quite uneasy.

“I’m sorry, König. Do you know her?” She questions as she leans closer into König, hoping he would shield her from your piercing watch and you fight the maniacal urges that arise.

By the befuddling look on the poor girl’s face and her accent was a dead give away…she was an American.

Regardless. She had no place flirting with König and the thought of her sharing the same oxygen as him, slowly boiled your blood to a dangerous temperature.

“Ich schwöre bei Gott, wenn du ihn berührst...(I swear to God, if you touch him)” Your tone daintly dips to a menacing level, one that König immediately recognizes.

The smug expression on König’s face becomes one of wary. “My apologies, Schatz. This here is my lovely wife, Y/N. She thinks you’re very pretty.” He blatantly lies through his teeth.

“Y-Your wife?”

The woman blinks a few times, bewildered by how she missed all the crucial signs.

Her eyes drop to your left hand, where a diamond ring would be, but instead there was a small calligraphy tattoo, engraved in your skin that read:

“Til Death.”

“Hat deine Hure einen Namen, König? (Does your whore have a name?)”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead König reached over to grab the glass of bourbon that sat on the table, taking a quick swig of it while watching the tension build as you continued to inspect his new “friend.”

Your eyes flit over to him with impending glare, which light a fire under his ass to give an answer.

“Victoria.” He said dully, avoiding all eye contact.

A seed of suspicion was ready to plant itself as König had a small habit of fabricating to avoid conflict. But, the way her neck almost snapped at the name, convinced you otherwise and your expression softens.

“gefällt sie dir?” (Do you like her?)

“Y/N, es ist nicht-” (Y/N, it’s not-)

Swiftly rising to your feet and cutting off his excuse, you walk your way around the table to settle comfortably in your husband’s lap, wedging yourself between the two with your eyes studiously on Victoria.

Despite your calm and relaxed nature, the air surrounding held underlying tension with a dicey edge to it.

Victoria’s eyes shift frantically between you and König, hoping that she can escape the situation without any causing any more problems.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t know you were married. I just assumed you were single.”

“Du hast falsch gedacht, Schlampe. Ich wette, die dumme Schlampe erkennt nicht einmal, was für eine Frau ich bin.(You thought wrong, bitch. I bet that stupid bitch doesn’t even realize what kind of woman I am.)” You added with a humorless laugh, confusing Victoria even more.

“What did she say?”

“Don’t look at my husband, look at me.”

In response to your command, König’s arm causally wraps itself around your waist, not to be endearing but to restrain you if things go suddenly left.

“Are you having fun with König, Victoria?”

Victoria shivers at the piercing tone of your question.

“No, of course not.”

“No? So are you telling me that he wasn’t good enough to entertain you?” You scoffed in disbelief and instinctively König’s grip tightens around your waist, fully aware of the game your about to play.

[directdogman]

my power went out in the middle of me coding in the hobo interaction in my game and i feel like the little shit shart did it on purpose

like 4 HOURS WASTED THAT AINT NO ACCIDENT THAT FELLA DID IT ON PURPOSE I KNOW IT. THEIR GOD IRL CONFIRMED !!???!?

God: "Wow, your power went out? That's craaazy. While you were using it? Man, that's not really all that considerate, is it? Maybe the grid hiccuped. That happens sometimes. It sucks, but it's true. Nothing is dependable ALL of the time, after all. Y'know there's an acceptable amount of bug pieces that can turn up in candy? If they're able to legally sell you a candy bar with a centipede inside it, I guess it's to be expected that sometimes, power just kinda goes out. I mean, ya'd think they'd figure out a way to pump out stuff to chow down on without spiders in it before they'd figure out how to make electricity that never shuts off (even IF a spider falls into the reactor), right? Electricity is complicated, after all, way more than spiders and centipedes. Y'ever seen a spider create music? It's been known to happen, but it's rare is what I'm sayin'.

Y'know, actually, I think it's funny: If ya place a mass of spiders on a hamster wheel, they basically won't produce any amount of electricity worth talkin' about. They just kinda dart around aimlessly. Can't really coordinate spiders. Too many legs. More legs means more chaos. That's a rule. Ever stare at a crab? 'Scuttle, scuttle, pinch', that's a crab's motto. Lobsters aren't much better, but they have their own deal going on the side, which I won't go into now. All that being said, GOOD LUCK keeping insects from sprinting into reactors and frying the power grid for a moment, though! I mean, it's no wonder they keep appearing inside candy. They're skeevy lil fuckers, y'know. Like I said, lots of legs. An excessive number, even. 4 pairs. That's eight legs. Don't even get me STARTED on centipedes! No creature that isn't up to SOME kind of malarkey would need that many legs. Me, I've just got the two and boy, do I get a lot of use out of 'em. I mean, I stand around a lot, of course. Granted, I could sit or lie down, but then people'd assume I'm lazy... which maybe I am, but a lil bit of effort's gotta count for something, eh? Wait, what were we talkin' about again? Oh right, how to keep spiders out of reactors. Honestly, I think we'll figure it out some day, but as marvelous as the wonders of modern science are, I just don't think we're there quite yet. Maybe some day. All I know is, it won't be ME to figure the mystery out, that's for damned sure. Anyway, ya got any change?"

[f4ll-for-you]

Dark Deeds | Modern! Aegon

Warnings: smut, mentions of substance abuse/drug deals, mafia Aegon? I think that’s it?

This is dedicated to the wonderful @amiraisgoingthruit for listening to my Aegon rambles and being the most kind, caring soul🫶

Thank you to @arcielee for as always beta reading my mess and being the wonderful human that you are✨

Part One | Part Two

The pair of you walked into the club; it was nearing midnight and all you wanted to do was go home.

You’d already been to three parties, waiting for your boyfriend to deal with his ‘business,’ but now you were exhausted and your feet hurt, desperate to get out of your 5 inch heels.

“Last stop baby, I promise,” Aegon spoke kindly, and he kissed your forehead as he led you to your usual booth at the back.

“Better be,” you grumbled. Aegon glared at you harshly, he couldn’t deal with you being a brat tonight.

When you both sat down, Aegon immediately pulled you onto his lap, his need to feel you close. He enjoyed his 'profession' and this type of business, the heat of crowded clubs, but he also craved you to be near him, protected and safe at his side.

You slumped into him, tired and needy.

Aegon’s clients sat across from him, your back towards them. They looked through you, knowing if they acknowledged you in any way, that Aegon would have their heads on spikes.

As Aegon made his deals, his thumb brushed circles on your thigh and a wetness pooled between your legs. You tried to stop yourself, knowing you would be punished if you misbehaved, but that only seemed to turn you on more.

You leaned gently towards Aegon's ear, as if you were just sleepy, nestling into him. “Mmm, baby need you now,” you half mumbled, half moaned, begging to grind yourself into his suit-covered thigh.

“Later, sweetheart,” he growled, luckily going unnoticed by his clients.

Aegon squeezed your bottom as a warning, as he wasn’t in the mood for your bratty games. This deal would get him a quarter of a million, his biggest turn over yet.

Choosing not to listen, you continued to grind down into his thigh, your thin panties unable to hold in your dripping wetness. You slowly sped up, chasing your high as you moaned into Aegon's ear, feeling him grow beneath you.

Aegon coughed, smacking your ass gently, warning you not to continue.

Once again, you ignored this. You were too overwhelmed with pleasure to care how you looked right now.

When Aegon looked back up across the table, he realised his clients were rather enjoying the show you were putting on for them, with their flicker of jealousy of Aegon at that moment.

Noticing this, Aegon smirked, his hand tracing down your thigh slowly. You whimpered as he gently flicked and toyed with your clit. “Sorry gentleman, let’s continue, ignore my girl, she just can’t wait for Daddy sometimes.”

Usually you would be livid at this, but before you could protest, Aegon's middle finger slid between your soaking folds, curling and causing you to let out an audible moan.

“So, I am offering my stock for three quarters of a million, that is my final offer gentlemen,” Aegon continued, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening directly on his lap.

His clients, too enamoured with the scene before them, merely nodded, half listening as Aegon discussed the deal on the table.

Your moans became louder as Aegon added a second finger, his thumb rubbing against your pearl. Aegon chuckled at the mess you had created on his suit trousers. “Making such a mess for me, baby,” he commented nonchalantly.

You continued to grind down into his fingers, chasing your high intently, shaking with pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned loudly. Aegon was sure two of the men opposite came in their pants with how their cheeks instantly flushed red.

Aegon gently pulled his fingers from your folds, bringing them up to his mouth, licking them clean before kissing you.

“So fellas, do we have a deal?” Aegon asked expectantly.

“Of course, sir,” they mumbled simultaneously, a large bouncer behind them handing Aegon the suitcase of money.

The men left with red faces and bulging trousers. Your little show had managed to pay off after all.

“Hmm, maybe you should be needy more often baby, the customers seem to like it,” Aegon smirked as he admired the stacks of notes displayed on the table in front of him. “Especially if you’re earning me that kind of money.”

“Anything for you, my love,” you whispered into his ear, drained from your orgasm.

He pulled you to your feet and you fell asleep on Aegon's shoulder on the ride back, his driver bringing you both back to your penthouse; your heels were discarded on the floor under the seat.

“Baby, we’re home,” Aegon spoke, only receiving a mumbled response from you.

Rolling his eyes, he picked you up bridal style and carried you up to the apartment, heels in hand.

He placed you gently onto the king size bed, careful to unzip and peel away your dress, and helping you into one of his large T-shirts. As you curled into him, the last thing you remembered hearing was his sweet voice and its delivered promise.

“You are a minx, don’t think you won’t be punished in the morning,” he kissed you on your hairline as you fell into a deep sleep.

Taglist: @amiraisgoingthruit @lovelykhaleesiii @sylas-the-grim @arcielee

[tumblestagteam]

It Is Time!

IT IS THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR.

AFTER 11 MONTHS...

I AM PROUD TO PRESENT

THE TUMBLRTAGTEAM TOURNMENT 2!!!!!!!!!!!

(Poster Made By @calops-does-art, make sure to support them!)

AND OUR CONTESTANTS!

The Rules are as follows: 21 teams shall be put to the test, to see if their respective fandoms can cooperate for them to earn the right to face the winner of last contests tournament, VRISKA AND MIKU! Will the last team left toppled Vrisku? Or will our reigning and defending champions get the victory once more? THAT AND MUCH MORE WILL BE ANSWERED ON THE 19TH!

...Oh, what's that? What's that at the bottom? WELL, I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!

While most teams were drafted by me (and some fellow associates), this is YOUR chance to get YOUR team on the bracket! Anything goes, could be your ocs, obscure game/novel/show characters teaming up, you name it, it is legal!

Drop your suggestions in my dms, and they'll be put in a roulette wheel, only TWO of the suggested teams shall be chosen from this process. BUT BE QUICK, your suggestions will only be accepted for 2 days! it'll end on Sunday 19th of November, time's ticking fellas!

WARNING: No, this is NOT a ship thing NOR a fighting thing. It is only a fun little poll for people to enjoy! That is it.

[pocketpennytm]

INESCAPABLE

The story where everyone is doomed from the start. (Ft. FATEBREAKERS) Chara (they/it) - SOUL of Pain Plaster (he/they) - SOUL of Patience Omlet (she/they) - SOUL of Kindness Talon (he/him) - SOUL of Bravery Oxalis (they/them) - SOUL of Justice Sonata "Breve" Stardust (she/her)- SOUL of Integrity Litany (he/him)- SOUL of Perseverence Frisk (they/them) - SOUL of Pain Bear witness to my takes on the six fallen humans! I love these silly lil fellas. My main focuses have been envisioning "UNDERTALE: Open Wound", of which Plaster is the protagonist, and "UNDERTALE: Simmer Down", of which Omlet is the protagonist, but I've got ideas for everyone else too. Which I will detail down here lets gooo; Plaster is an anxious overthinker, thinking that they're always doomed. His patience manifests as analysing his enemy's patterns and behaviour, waiting for the right moment to strike... Either emotionally or physically. Omlet is a rude, abrasive person, who thinks the kindest, most selfless thing they can do to people is tell them exactly what she's feeling. Though she seems distant, she does have a warm and caring side- expressed through their cooking. Talon is a very plucky individual, whose bravery manifests as completely pushing down all fear and pretending that he's fine when he's really not fine. He projects outwardly a very cool, calm and collected persona, never breaking a sweat at anything. This trait of his just might be the death of him, as he moves on ahead with reckless abandon- never asking for help, when that just might've saved him. Oxalis seems unemotional at a distance, but they do have occasional moments of goofiness that break through the cold facade. They play as a cowboy embodying justice to cheer themselves up, but it's really only made them seem slightly scary from a distance. Sonata "Breve" Stardust doesn't take shit from anyone. She stays true to herself, no matter what- with her rough-and-tumble-yet-oddly-elegant style. Though perhaps being unaccepting to changing the path one is barreling down is as much of a strength as it is a weakness. Litany is a caring and nurturing person, playing out the fantasy of being a doctor with a clipboard. Always writing down notes on his "clipboard" (journal), clutching onto it for dear life. He only really wants to help others, and he keeps going to achieve this goal no matter what. MISC NOTES: Sonata's form of "game" would likely manifest as a rhythm game sort of thing, justifying it in-universe as this "bizzare trend going around the underground." Stay with the groove, or die! (metaphorically) It's been my headcanon for nearly two years now that the "Red SOUL trait" is PAIN. It is not all too logical. I am sticking by my guns.

NAME LOGIC: I was inspired by Clover from UNDERTALE: Yellow being named after the fact that once pacified, the gun fires clovers. So, I extended this philosophy to everyone else- while also seeking to capture that odd jank the names "Chara" and "Frisk" have.

Plaster is named that because the knives turn into bandaids, and plaster is an alternative term for a bandage, or something that patches up a wound. Omlet is named that because the fire turns into omelettes, and I decided to shorten it for some reason. I think it's charming like this, though. If anyone else mentions how they "aren't really omlettes", i will sob. Talon is named that because that's the most convoluted way I could reference the concept of hands. Which is what the bravery soul phase attacks with. Oxalis is named that because Oxalis Tetraphylla is the official name for a four leaf clover. Though she probably uses Alis as a nickname. Sonata "Breve" Stardust is named that bc the musical notes eventually heal you. a Sonata is a form of music, a Breve is a type of note, and she attacks with some stars. it's also sort of an Equestria Girls reference whoopsie. She's the only one with a lastname bc I feel like "Breve" captures the sort of janky charm I want, but Sonata is a name that I just found legitimately really pretty Litany is named that because that's the most convoluted way i could say "words", in reference to how the soul phase... attacks you with words. It means a funeral procession recited for the dead, but also something that's overly long and needs to be practiced several times- exactly like the cycle of the fallen humans. Or a long and lengthy ramble, like an indecipherable journal.

DESIGN NOTES: I really wanted each of the fallen humans to use their trademark items in an unusual fashion- or just generally "break the mold" a little, ie having Omlet be a rather rude seeming person, while most personify kindness to be a gentle little angel. So, I'll go into that just a smidgen more here. Instead of wearing the Faded Ribbon like an actual ribbon in his hair, Plaster wears it like a bowtie. Omlet wears the apron around her waist, since she's outgrown it but it still holds quite a lot of sentimental value. Most people just?? forget that the worn bandanna is supposed to go around your neck?? since it's got abs drawn on it, and it's like, the whole joke is that it's supposed to look like you have abs- It's a hat. Sonata was such a fun design to make for me. Everyone always chooses to make Integrity a dainty little ballerina girl, so I chose to give Breve a whole-ass varsity jacket. She looks like she'd beat you up and I love it. My logic for Litany's design was entirely "okay... who wears glasses... and takes notes- DOCTOR". So that's what I did. Chara and Frisk were difficult for me to redesign. My friend Cacote suggested Chara be wearing an oversized sweater alongside messy hair, which I quite like. Plus, their hairstyle is a partial reference to Chara from Fanontale, which is always cool. They look adorable. My friend Cacote suggested Frisk be wearing some bizzare fashion, somewhat akin to futuristic clothing. This manifested as me... giving them a weird suit/trenchcoat combo. And a sticky bandage on their nose. They look kind of like a huge asshole, and I love it.

[whatsaneggimcis]

Signs everything I thought I knew was wrong

I needed to dump my thoughts and feelings somewhere because I feel like im annoying my support group. I think my egg finally cracked Wednesday and immediately I had to start researching and buying gender affirming things. Anyways, here's my list of signs that I wish I had seen like a decade ago, please be kind I'm very new to opening up like this

Another Girl in elementary threatened me with makeup and cross dressing and I wanted it bad.

I think this one is such a major factor in why I feel like this has to be real. Its well before puberty and well before I knew transitioning was a thing. Just a natural thought for someone who’s the wrong gender

Multiple times pleading with god to just make me a girl

Still cis tho obv

Thinking if I held still for long enough in bed, some sort of magic would make me a girl and fix this wrong body of mine

I still remember the dreams where im a girl, i legit became proficient at lucid dreaming just for it.

Ah fuck the egg_irl memes are hitting too hard

My favorite game character is Bridget, listening back to the song is hitting really hard actually

Legit had an anxiety attack and took a day off work because my transfem friend said “careful, i said the same thing before i came out”

Wishing i had magic to turn myself into a girl

Playing female characters just to feel cute

Putting on leggings in highschool, then sleeping in them

Some female mannerisms

Kinda hating my poor skin but couldnt do anything about it since thats only for women am i right fellas

Mild euphoria when someone says good girl

Envisioning myself as the girl during fantasies

Jealousy over a womans body

Ive never seen any man sit cross legged at a table the way i do, idk why that one pops up but i’ve seen plenty of other girls do it

Desire to steal womans clothing to cross dress

At current moment I have no desire to bite my nails because I want them to grow out, even though I was a nail biter for 27 years

In pre school, tried to convince another girl to swap clothes with me

In pre school, loved pretending i was at a hair salon and the other girls in the school would give me a haircut. It gave me ASMR

Speaking of ASMR, I like exclusively listen to makeup, nail and hair roleplays

Feeling like i dont want to transition because I could be ugly

After realization, I dont have nearly as much of an appetite, maybe subconscious bodily sabotage in the form of overeating

Not seeing any future when I tried to plan my life better, before I ever considered the option of becoming trans

Feeling hurt when my dad made somewhat transphobic comments about my trans cousin

Wondering what my parents would do if i woke up one day as a woman and had to explain that to them

Genuine euphoria at the idea of trying on womens clothing, but thinking that i was weird and kinky

Playing with stuffed animals with my best childhood friend, a fellow girl

Hating my balls

I bet it feels good to cry, its probably cathartic

Hating body hair god i hate this so much, I’m just bad at shaving it and dont want to be covered in razor burns and have to explain to coworkers why I shaved my legs and arms

Hating my nose

Adopting a super masculine persona

Forcing myself to have a much deeper voice to not feel any of my true feelings

Actually seeing a future after considering becoming trans

Being hurt by transphobic comments at work before I realized my egg status

Was I sending what they said to my friend because i was hurt by it and wanted reassurance?

When i started drawing again, i had no desire to draw “cool badass epic shit” i just wanted to draw super cosy watercolor paintings.

God damn it i’ll say it, I fucking love pastels. Both the art medium and the color spectrum

Repression of my desire to dance and sing, or I guess express myself in any format due to internalized transphobia

“Mens fashion is so lame, girls have it so good. Im cis tho”

Pure depression my entire adult life

Wanting genuine friend connections with women in a more feminine way

Never caring about going out and buying clothes because none of them worked for me

Trying to force myself to not look at girls clothes because “thats only what weirdos do”

On this topic, how the fuck did i think this shit was normal… i wasnt watching women or anything, its not like i was being creepy in reality. I just wanted to see the womens clothes. Why is that such a bad thing for someone to want

Being jealous of my friend since he was openly wearing his girlfriend’s sweatshirt

Dude i stared longingly at a pink gamer girl chair, still cis tho

Speaking of gamers, being super jealous of C9 Sneaky that he could pass so well and was totally fine with showing that whole side of himself online. Same with Finnster.

I think i hate my voice, ever since realizing this about myself i cant help but hear my voice and think its not me

Being afraid to see a therapist because im not sure honestly

Fearing crying, but that might not be internalized transphobia and actually just be a side product of the vice grip on masculinity in society

Daydreaming about becoming a girl

General body dysmorphia

I want to cry but i cant, why cant I cry why

[hochmvt]

Welcome back to your favorite horror podcast '𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒'. I'm your host Isaiah, this is episode 152 and I'm so glad you joined me on this beautiful day. I hope you're doing fantastic and ain't suffering from the current heat as much as I do. Recording this in the middle of nowhere – but … what else is new –, today we're following the story of Violet and Hunter, a happily married couple from the midwest. Or … so it seems. After Hunter noticed some changes in his wife's behavior, the couple's true love for one another was tested. What happens if the person you thought you knew in and out starts to act erratic? What if you discover new sides to them you're not only unfamiliar with but also scared by? How well can you know a person, despite being married to them for years? Before we dive into the topic of truly knowing people and the seemingly harmless multifacetedness of "love", as always: thank you for tuning in.

Alright ! Welcome back, welcome back! As I said before, I'm so glad you joined me on this fine day. I saw you guys' posts on Reddit wishing my mom well and I'm glad to say, that your little affirmations worked wonders. She's feeling on top of her game again and was touched by your compassion, so she thinks you aren't just weird internet people anymore – then she thought about signing up for Reddit herself and I kinda talked her out of it. Luckily. That being said, enough of the chit chat and let's get right into it.

I stumbled across Hunter's story approximately two weeks after the first 'incident'. See, I'm not necessarily much into this entire married couple kinda thing (to be honest with you, in the beginning it kinda sounded like they just needed some couple's therapy and I was about to brush it away) but this one eventually felt like something more serious. When I met up with Hunter, this poor fella looked like he hadn't slept for weeks. We were supposed to meet at a Diner closeby to the motel he stayed at. I got there a little late, stood outside, smoking a cigarette and watched the people inside. It was hard to miss him. He sat at the counter, looking like one of those guys at 3AM in any old dive bar, thinking about what to tell their wife when, where and why the 'Only two pints, hun, I promise' - pledge was broken.

To be honest with you, after what he told me, the only medicine that would've worked with Hunter was Jaegermeister – and in that moment I was convinced that I am the funniest person on planet earth – but I didn't make the joke in front of him.  Violet was your typical girl next-door ; rather modest, pedantic, however she was kind and thoughtful. Pulling pranks or dicking around wasn't something in her repertoire – contrary to Hunter. Frankly, both of them seemed kinda contradictory from what Hunter had told me. Two weeks prior, Violet had returned from a trip to her sister's place down in Parks, close to the Kansas' border. What Hunter had noticed upon her return in the middle of the night was her frizzy, tangled hair, her tired eyes and terse behavior, but he didn't think much of it. After all, she just arrived from a four hour drive in the middle of the night, so she headed to take a shower before going to bed. 

Isaiah's phone rang. In the middle of recording. Who on earth dares to call at 3AM in the morning? All of his friends knew where he was, they usually checked the time zones, if they decided to give him a call (which rarely ever happened, none of them was really fond about talking on the phone). Upon sorting his thoughts, he realized what n̸̡̢͍̯̤̥̞̼̦̭͈͇͇͚̭̠̜͈̘͇̤̯͕̉͗̃́̑̓͑̊́̊͐͆̒̿́̈͌̓̽̚̕̕͜à̷͕̤̳̪̩̪̫̳̺͉̗̈̊̍͐̀̀͑̀͗̿͠ͅm̸̡̡̨̨̛̭͓̦̺̼͉̣̯̲̖͔͖̟̙͈̜̞͔̙̗͈̺̳̼̬̞̞̮̙̥̼̝̄͌͂͌̍͌̾̓̓͑́͋̇̀̂̓̂͛͋̓̈́̂͑̑̍͒͒͂́͛̀̈́̂͑͂̂̉̉͘̕̚̕͘͝͝e̴̡͖̼̦̗̝̪̙̰͖̯̟̲̳̠͇̥̿̈̀̈́͑̏̈̏̀̌̏̊̈́ had popped up on the screen; his heart dropped, his hands felt clammy. C̷̨̛̪͎̩̣̫̮̰͈͛̈́͋̾̔̌͛̿̀̄̕͜͝ͅͅa̵̻̳͔̜͓̠̙̤̖͈̲͋̽̊̅̇́͗̒͑̆͒̇̔̅̑͂̒̆̇̏͐̍͘͜͝͝r̵̨̡̨̧̢̡̧̛̗̭̤̗͖̝͕͈̠͚̹͓̫͔͚̫̫͈̱̦̦̱͇͙̖͎̬̘̬̪̫̣̪͉͈̹̮͓̟̅̑̅̓̓̽̄̃͂̎̀̆̐̒̐̍̈́̏͒̐͌̂̾̚̚͜͜͝͝ṱ̷͔̰̮͉̭̳͙̣̫̥͉̻̝̠͈̭̼̦̩̯̰͙̩͎̳̱̺̞̖̺̬̹̃͜ͅę̸̨̻͙̯̦̲͕̟͎̰̬̼̝̪͙̫͉̗̜͔̞̳̻̪͕̳͔̗͎̤͕̖̙̬̮̼̳̗̺͋̏̃̓̍̆̃̇̎͝͝ͅͅr̸̨̹̩̮̤̙̗͎͕̬͛̉͗̓͊͊̅̆̈́͂͌͛̄̓̐̍̋̚̕̚͠. He hasn't called in ages. 

They were teenagers back then, Isaiah had no idea how to approach him, a̶̛̛̟̯̼̩̟̐̓̓̑̽͊͗͑̇̂̾͗͐͑͋̀͗̾̋͊̓͊̀̆̾̓͛́̈́̽͒̇͐̂͐̌̇͘͘̕͘͘̕̚͝͠��͎̺͇̼̼̥̳̮͓f̸̳̠̩͈̣̗̜̹̘͔̣͖͔͓̟̠̝̖̦͙̖̤̫̖͍͉͖̓̌̐ͅţ̶̡̰̤̗͎̪̘̦̪͈̦̝̮̙̩̤͚͍̥̟̜͍͓͍͇͔̜̝͕͖̳̎͆̿̌͒́̂͊̽̂͒̉͂̐̽̓̋̽̚͜͝͠e̷̡͍͚̞̣͍̯̼͈͕̥͈̭̯̪͈͙͔̤̬͌̈́̀͑̐̃̆͒̃̂͌̈́̀̍̐̈́̈́͂̃̐̍̎̓̂̔̎͒̆̒͌́͗͛̏͛̈́͂̃̀͊̏̊͂̚͝͝͝͝͝r̵̨̧̙̻̳͕͎̻͇͚̦͓͓̭̦̰͎͇͉͚͎̜̓́͐͑͛͗̿̎͊͂̄̆͋͑͊̆̔̽́̃̆̓̂͊̿̂̅̎͂̌̏̒̐̍́͐͌̎̈́́̋́́̂̚̕̚͝͝͠ͅ ̴̢̧͇͖̪͎͎̾̑̀̎̑́̿̆̆͛͐́̋̈́̃͂́̀̈́̑̅̍͒̍̀͋̓̓̽͘̚͝͠w̸̡̖̟̲̯̩̋̈́̈́̉́̏̓̅̎̿̀̇͐̓̽̀̀́͑̀͆̎̓͗̍͛̋́̓̑̐͛͘ḩ̵̧̧̡̢̛͖̝͓̞̻̩̺̺͍̯͓̥̻͉̭̪͇̝̥̖̦͍̠̤̫͇͓͉̜͚̙͔̪̱̰̘̘̉̐̀̐̐͗̾̽̑̎̓́̔̇̑́̽̋̊̈̔̀́͊͌̓͘̕͘͘͠a̵̧̡̨̡̧̛̛̛̺̳̙͚̖̜͎͖̗̗̭͔̝̗̺̪͓̠̖̬͍̺͚̖̻̬͙̩̖̭̫͈̞̫̯̗̙͙̲̯̫̥̯̒̌̋͛̄͊̈̄̓͒̂̐͗̋̃͂͊́͐̈́́̎̈̀̒̽̐͛̏̐̌́̈́͂̊͂̇̾́̊̋͗̕͜͠ͅt̴̡̛͉̙͎̹̘̭̙͕̝̠̖̮̤̬̭̯̺̻̞̣̻̤̱̟͇̩̮͈̦̩͇̹̞̜̜̤͇͎͙͓̠̋̌̏̓̽͛͋̆̏̏̉̓͌̍̀̈́͆͘͜͜͜͝ ̷̨̡̢̛̛̟͚̳̝͍̞̬̖͙̳̯̼̯͔͙͙̩̻̤͍͕͉̠͍̠̣̞̤̺̘̞̪̦͍̯̻̗̮̤̮̗͉̣̊̈́̈́͒͊̔̈́͆̓̑̏̿̆̄̂̿͒̒̌́̏͌͛̒̆́̕̚͜͝ͅͅh̵̡̩̦͔̣̅̐̐̀̊̀̃̊́̅͗̂̂̍͂̓́͑̒̑̎̎̓̑̋a̸̧̢̡̤͔̣̰̲̣̳͚̟͇̜͚̯͂̽̏̌̀̀̉̅̏̀̉͌̎́̋͐̑̿͒̄̑͗͐̊͊̓̽͘͜͝͠ͅͅḑ̸̢̡̞̖̳̳͉͎̱̣͚͙͇̣̤͔̦̼͉̤̹̙̆̈̎͗̀́́̂̍̄͐̃̈́̓̊̂̀̏͆͗̋͠͝ ̴͓̞̬̗͓̳̼̖̠͎̭̖͕͚͍̼̘̤̞̥̏̈́̄̑͐͒̆̏͊̌͌͜ẖ̷̛͎̌̆̋̾̃̍̍͂́̃͌͒̒̊̄̿̆͗̏̇̃͌͒̿̃͂̄́̎̆͐̎̍̍͛͘͘͠͝a̴̢̨̨̧̡̡̧̛̛͇̟̲͎͎͚̣̤̫͈͍͓̠̲̲͙̱̩͙̲̮͈̯̫̹͙̝͇̬͚͇̩̮͙̖͍̥̦̣͌̄̐̋͐͗̃̃́̈̀̽͒̈́̀̅̍͆̉͌͊́̽̓̕̕̚͘͝͝͝͠ͅp̶̧̥͈͓̠̹̲͍͉̜̟͉̱̯͍͉̙͎̩̬̝̟̳͇͍̖̪̽͒͜ͅp̵̡̨̧̡̡̛̲̘̙̙̤̺̭̖̫̜͔̠͉̤͓̼͕̬̲̘̝̣͓̘̱̺̮̱̰̼̻͇̣̪͎̞̮̱͙͔̫͒̈́̔̋̐̓̏̔̃̃̾͌̀̋̋́̍̾́̊͛̒̈́̒̽́͌̔́̃̔̅̉̒̚͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͠͝ę̸̢̳̰̱̤͚̙̬̱̖̤̣̲̰͍̥̮̙̌͆̅̔̾̓̑̓̔̈́́͑̊͂̌͊̓̍͗́̎̀̈́͗̒̓͗̀̀̚͘͠͝ń̶̔̾̎̽̂͘͝��̢̛̛͕̖̰͉̗̙̩̣͚͎͔̺̄̉̅͗͐̈́̀̊̉͝ȇ̷̢̢̡̡̬̲̗̺̻̼̮̹̯̟̻͈̠̥̥̫̖͙̖͉̠̼̘̝̹̙̳͖͍̝̫̝̝̮̱̙͈̱̰͔̪̲̓̽̕͘͜͝ͅd̸͓̥̭̥́͊̀͋̏̈̒̅̀̀́͋͗̈̍͆̐̒̂̒́̀́̂͌̍̌́̍̔͋̔̔̈́́͐͌̓̚̕͝. It felt weird talking to him – seeing him again after all these years. As if his face had changed throughout the years, but instead of the nature of the natural human process of aging, it felt– ơ̶̢͙̙͕͍̹͌͗͋͐̀̎͑̀͋̓̌̎̀̌̅̃̒͋͆̾̃̅̾̇͆͐̉̑̔̇̓̉͘͝͝͠͠͝͝t̴̨̛̘̮̦̫̮͉̙̪͕͎̟̆̒̃͑̓͐̌̑̏̆̆͌̅͊͑̿̇̎̎͘͘͜h̸̗̜̱͌̄͗̍̑̀̍̒e̴̛̱̣̳̰̭̟̱͙͔̼͕̭͖̠̣̣̙̙̘̰͈̗̮͈̲̹͖͔̻̣̪͖͆͆͋̓͑͂́̀͗̂̐̄̄̓͝͝ŗ̶̡̨̧̡̧̡̡̧̨͇̟̩̭̯̞̜͇͎̜̫̯̘͇̝͚͚̻̗͓̯̙̟͇̭̝͈̘̦̭̮̘̽͗͊͐͂̋͗̓̐̃̆̀̔̄͛̆͛̽͂̒͆̀̏̏͒͌̌̋̉͊̉͛͐̊́̈͂̀̎̈́̿̿̏̑͘̚̕͘͜͜w̵̡̧͈̼͇̘̭̪̱̻̼̭͙̠͉͙̥̩̳̭͈̼͆̈͂̍͂̉́͑̕͜͜ͅǫ̷̨̨̩̺̼̮̩̗͈̳̘͔̞͈̗̺̩̦̩͙̫̦̮̤̠̞̗͔̞̥̳̠͎͚͈̯̦͎̭̞̠̭̿͌̏̿͋͗̈́̒̓̏͆͋̉̇̉̆͊́̌̌̒̏͐̇̇̍̀̌̐͌̿́̃̅̚͘͘̕͜͜͜͠͠͝͠͝͠͝ͅŗ̸̨̡̧̛̼̰͔͉̻͖̗̞͎͙͓̙̞̦͙̻̰̳͔̱͈͌̎̈́̈̽̐̔͂͛͋͛̍͛̐́͛̋̄͊͂̑̃̓̋̍̇̏̈́͋̾̔̀̽̋̉̏͆̇͋̈̉͑̏̉͜͝͠ͅl̷̢̧̢̧̢̛̛̫̼͙͚̬̖̭̞̖̲̠̱͇̙̺̜͇̳̟̯͓̩͔̩͒̓̀̾̅͊̏͗̆̃̃͐̋̔͛͌̈̉̈͒͐̎̔̃̿̃̾̇̎̅͒͋̐̏̄̕̕̕͜͜͠͠͝d̷̢̨̛̛̛͍͚̣̮̻̹͕̫͕̻̥͔̯̰͚̞̳̙͈̟͎͔̞̜̻̙̳̜̗̠̬̲͎̖̝̭͍̠̑̿́͊͐̈́͆̇͌̂͆̓̋̿̈́̐͛́͐̿̒́̐̕̕͘̕͜͜͠͝͝ļ̶̨̢̡̛̬͎̗͚̥͍̞͔̦̰̘̱̼̞̰̣̪͔͈͚͌̊̾̐̽̓͛̇̅̇͊̆́̃͛̄̂́̾̓̆͂͊̉̎̃͘̚͝y̴̨̢̡̗͉̭͔̳͎̜̩͓̱͉̬̱̬̗̗̮̬̥͕͕̺̹̻͇͒͗̔͗̀̃̓̅̀̀͗͆͑͗. Fuck, he sighed, his gaze fixed on the screen. He shifted his weight slightly, fingers tapping on the back of his phone. He felt uneasy, jumpy even; probably due to the lack of sleep from the night before. Isaiah rejected the call and decided to text him instead: 'Gonna call you back asap. Currently working.'

Two days later, after coming back from a long night of meeting up with his colleagues, having drinks, talking about manly things such as sports, monstertrucks and tits, Hunter was slightly drunk. Thus he had the same sensation all of us have, when we had one or fourteen drinks too many: He was hungry and in desperate need for something good. Eating in the kitchen, minding his business, he let his gaze wander until his eyes focused, locking upon familiar features at the end of the hallway. Violet was peeking at him from around the corner, only her eyes visible, wide open, almost unnatural looking, the rest of her body hidden behind the wall. Upon trying to focus and rubbing his eyes, she was gone. All he heard were fast footsteps stealing away from the hallway. It didn't sound like someone was running though, more like an animal fleeing from the intruder of their natural habitat. However, we know  the more our vision declines, the more frequently hallucinations occur. And I told you about how scientists were able to demonstrate that these hallucinations originate in the same brain regions where actual perceptions are processed – and not in the areas where images that arise from our imagination are created. This explains why so many people believe their hallucinations to be real – and yet, Hunter thought he was drunk and his mind played tricks on him. Speaking of your mind's playing tricks on you: Do those hear strange noises at night sometimes that keep you awake? Not the voices in your head, but your neighbors having the time of their lives, the police out and about on duty or the 826th party down the road? 

When nighttime brings unsettling sounds that make your heart race, the new earplugs from HUSH are your answer. Constructed with high-density memory foam, they effectively block out the eerie noises, letting you rest easy and help you fight your sleep paralysis demons easily. Ideal for those who are sensitive to sound, you'll find yourself sleeping through the night all safe and sound. Visit hush.com and use the promo code 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 for 15% off your first purchase. Thank you HUSH for sponsoring this episode and thank you for the countless nights you helped me sleep through.

Violet seemed off after that. She rarely spoke, sometimes it felt like she stared right through her husband. On other days, he caught her just staring at him. Smiling. As if she was daydreaming about something. Her smile felt uncanny, he told me, you know, like these AI generated pictures or– robots even! Upon asking her if she was alright, she always nodded her head and continued the things she was working on. There were nights Hunter laid awake at night, Violet missing from her side of the bed. Whereas to me that sounds like an open invitation to sleep in my favorite position of them all – the spread eagle – things wouldn't be half as unsettling if it wasn't for the noises. Again, fast footsteps, too fast for anything humanoid.

So we waited. I told Hunter it was fine with me if he caught up on some sleep and I'd keep vigil, to convince myself what was going on. I mean, if she was truly visiting him every night, indifferent to where he was staying, why should she stop now? The first two hours were rather uneventful. My trusty Switch was keeping me company, I had insanely good runs playing 'The Binding Of Isaac' – until I heard a noise. It sounded like a knock but– I mean, Hunter never told me that Violet seemed like the girl to knock per se. If she truly lost her mind and was out for– revenge? A night of fun? Why on earth would she knock? I checked the door, stood outside for a while, shining my flashlight into the very far corners of the property, gaze wandering from the vending machine, to every car in the lot, even to the adjacent rooms. Nothing. There was no one there. 

Heading back inside, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Hunter had told me Violet had watched him sleep from time to time, standing outside the window, her breath on the window, but even as I checked, still, no one's there. Getting back into the game and my trusty Switch, minutes passed until– 

Cutting the recording a second time, he listened more attentively to his surroundings. There was a rustle, but wasn't there something else? Was that a whisper? His phone buzzed again, recieving an answer from the same person who tried to call him earlier.  Ǐ̷̧̢̧͍̺͔̪̭͎̳̥͚̳̥̬͎͕̹̝̺̮̟̈̅̽͆͗̂̉̋̓̃́'̶̨̡̡̧̧̨̧̢̞͙̖̤̙̤̱̗̣̙͖̘͍͖͔̹̬̯̤̻͇͈͉̖̻̞̩͉͖̗̮̬͖̭͈̦̙̳̘̯̈́̀͆̀̐̉̓̅̓̅̓̔̄̈́͊͋͘̚ͅͅv̷̼͈̥̯̜͕͆̔̄̇͑̚e̷̢̡̩͖̣͇̯̮͎͖̼̲̤̯̜̠͓͕̝̤̬̜̤̥̺͎̗͙̮͈̅̉̈̔͆̏̔̃̍͛͑͆͌̌̇̌̃̿͌̋̓̊̓͊̋͒͋̋͑̾̑͐́̒̿̍͆͘͠͝ ̶̫̝̯̜̫̙̐̀f̸̨̨̨̢̨̳̟̖̻̙̖͓͍͕͓̣͔̞̩͉͔̫͎̭̼̜͇͎͙͇̳̤̝̩̻̝̩͖̜̖̯̩̩͆̏̍̀̀̑̅̀̌̋̉͛̄̈̀̃͗̐̈̌͋͒͐̅̀̒̕͘͝ͅǫ̶̢̢̡̧̛̛̫̞̞̖̯͇͚̭̮͖̈́͐̈́̊̏͆̈̋̃͐̎͛̏͌͆̆̀̇͌͛̐̌͋̉͑̿́̈́̚͘̚̚͘̕͝͠͝͠ͅu̷̧̧͙͚͚̟̞̜͖̲̦͈̠̘̥̳̠̜̻̮̙̳͊̾̔͆̾͌̄͗́̆͆͆̀͐͋̃͌͛̑͗̉͒͐̊͗̎͐̎̃̈́̔͐̌̄̽̃̂͒̾̐͑́̈́͘͘͜͠͠͠ņ̴̨̢̝̗̹͖̗̳̪̙̳̱̳̠̥̯̖͍͕̘̥̝̫̤̲̣̠̺̤́̈́̀̚͝͠d̷̢̨̡̨̘̜͉̙̖́͛̍̿̍̆̓̂̏̋͗̀̈́̈́̽̉̍̄͗̾͑͊̽̿́̒̔̋͑̀͐͆͒̌̋͐́̎̃̀̿̓̕̕͘͘̚͝͝ͅͅ ̸̧̢̣̝̞͕̪̫̤̯̣͕̯̖̹̩̬̥̪͉̮̺͇̥͓̼̼̙̫̠̌ͅͅͅͅÿ̷̛̪͍̾̎̋̇̎̆̂̿̔̈̍̐̉͛̂͆̽̈̒̈́͗̅̋́͊̈̄̐̚ö̴̞́̋̊̊̃̔̇̀͑̈́͋̏̔̾̓̀͐̃͛̄̾̏̾̉̉͋̊̒͂̈̽͛͋̑̕͘̕̕̕͝u̶̧̢̠̦̝̙̖̦̺͍̲̱͍̥̘̺̥͓̫̮̗͐͊̊͒̅̆̽̆̆̽́̋̇́̾͌̓̅̿́̉͒̉̽̎̉́̊͘͘̚͘͠.̵̛̛̛̭͓̂̍̿̅̽͊̎̿̍̈̅̑̀͋̐͆̇̇̅̇̋̂͊̀́̈͂̾̊͌̈́͆̅̄̍̔̕̚̚̕̚͝͠͝ ̸̢̧̨̧̯̠̖̯̟̳̳̩̪̦̮̲͕͉͕́͛̅̎̓͂̈̓̓̑͆̔̃̓́́͝ͅͅ:̸̧̢̡̢͍̠̹̳̗̣̱̳̻͎̩̪̫͎͕͇̭̱̥͍͚̦̞̯̩̭͓̠͙̉͐̍̋̽̒͐)̶̢̬̦͔̼͉̹̪̮̖̜̣̱̩̜̠̮̖̤͉̤̠͚̘̻̳͚̪͙̬͎̰͍͔̯̦̳̿̈͋͂̏̎̈́̾͑̈̓̏̓̓̋̀́̔͘͜͜͠͠ͅ

I heard a noise. Like an animal pacing, but it sounded uncomfortably close. There was nothing outside, I checked the room Hunter was sleeping in but there was nothing. When I turned around, I saw a set of widened eyes, peeking at me from the bottom of the doorframe from the hallway. The light was reflecting in her– its eyes, like a predator lurking in the shadows, ready to hunts its prey. A long strand of dark hair was falling across her forehead, she moved her head slightly, tilted it. As if she was irritated, yet amused by the sight of me. I mean, I've seen my fair share of weird shit and read a lot about the 'power of imagination', but I assure you: This ain't fucking it. Violet's head started to rise, she seemed to get up as I stood there frozen in the doorframe across the hallway. Her hair was moving with her. It took me some time to realize that she wasn't necessarily getting up, but instead she seemed to crawl on the wall, finally positioning herself at the upper edge of the doorframe. Her hair was now dangling, pointing towards the floor, her face more visible. That was the moment I realized what Hunter had meant with the uncanny smile. Violet's features seemed off, it reminded me of Alternates, her smile seemed forced, too wide, all of her teeth were showing. Her eyes wide, reflective, like a deer in headlights. Until she vanished.

Again: Fast footsteps. Then silence.

Hunter woke up from the noise. He asked me if I was alright, standing in the doorframe, too stunned to move. Frozen. That's when I saw her again, unblinking, reflective eyes and grinning wide. She saw him, knew he was there and that's all she needed to know. All she needed to see. He was her prey, I was an irrelevant obstacle and no greater threat. She was peeking at the both of us, focusing Hunter, scuttling slowly towards us on all fours, leaving her cranny from behind the kitchen counter. Her movement seemed otherwoldly, bending her joints and body parts inhumanly, putting her legs in front of her arms when she moved. Both of us must've thought that her smile couldn't get any wider, but we were mistaken. This was her definition of fun. And trust me when I say that it wasn't mine.  Violet stopped again, tilting her head to the side. 

Again: Fast footsteps as she approached us, grinning even wider. Until we shut the door. As we both pressed against it, all we could feel, in between fast breaths and paralyzed by fear, was the intense, loud banging against the door. Relentlessly hammering against the wood, trying to force her way in, we kept the door shut with all we had. For twenty-seven minutes. Again, fast footsteps. ⸻ Then silence.

  ©redits⸻ heavily inspired by this story (please read it, it's fantastic!) and ofc the final scenes of the masterpiece that is ari aster's »hereditary«)  

[captain-mj]

What do I have to do for more Warrior! Ghost and Spoil! Soap???

I am but a little Fella obsessed with you cod AU's so please begging on my hands and knees for a part 3 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

Heyo! This is actually pt 4 now! Crazy how fast we got here! Part 3

Ghost stared at the ceiling after he woke up. 

Bonnie. 

He had heard the term before of course. Multiple times from other Scots. Usually not directed at him. 

His skin tingled slightly. 

Soap was an idiot. Whatever game he was playing at, Ghost wasn’t interested. Even if he did look good in his clothing. 

Ghost bit the inside of his cheek until blood started to fil his mouth. He had to remember Soap was trying to survive. Doing his best to not be killed. He didn’t punish him for trying to escape. Wouldn’t punish him if he tried again, despite the vague threats he made. 

With a small sigh, he dragged himself from bed. Price needed to talk to him, he was pretty sure. Or maybe it was Alejandro… One of them anyway. 

He felt Soap’s hand on him, light and searching, still mostly asleep. Ghost looked at it for a minute before picking it up and slowly setting it 

Ghost flushed, thinking about last night. The way Soap said called him pretty and leaned in. His soft mouth, inches away from Ghost. 

Ghost was a glorious sinner, but the way Soap had said that. 

He got up and cleaned himself in a nearby river so he didn’t have to worry about Soap. He redressed and went to look for his coworkers. 

Alejandro was sparring with someone, trying to teach them how to sword fight more effectively. Their technique was terrible but he was a good teacher. 

The student fell flat on their ass. 

Most of the time.

“Hey, Ghost!” Alejandro put the blade to the person’s chest. “Need something?”

“Just out. Anything I can help with?” Ghost looked around, noticing Rodolfo trying to train someone else. The other guy was just as bad. This is exactly why he doesn’t train people.

“Mind telling this person where they went wrong?”

Ghost hummed and calmly told the person the long laundry list of what they did wrong. Their stance, their posture, the lack of center of gravity, even critiqued the way they held their blade.

“Eh, I think that’s enough, Ghost.” Alejandro was clearly laughing, even though the kid looked close to tears. “Now get up and try again with Smith.” He walked away from him, leaning against the fence.

“So. What state is MacTavish in this morning?” He grinned and leaned in close to Ghost, like they were whispering secrets to each other.

“I left him passed out in my bed.” Ghost answered, technically it was true.  

“Damn. Stone cold Ghost.” Alejandro looked at him, something right behind his eyes. Some thought or emotion Ghost couldn’t quite pin down. “Price just got back from raiding a village. Had a bottle of bourbon he was saving for you.” 

“Thanks, Ale. Good luck with these guys. They look hopeless.” Ghost pulled away. As he walked away, he could hear Alejandro laughing. 

Price never locked his door so Ghost just slipped in. It smelled nice, like someone was baking. He could hear someone in the kitchen, so he looked for him there. 

Ghost froze when he saw someone who was clearly not Price. Kinda short, blond hair, definitely not Price. 

“Oh. Hi.” The person looked up at him. “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

Ghost stared down at him, but they didn’t shrink back.

“If you’re looking for the Captain, he’s in his office.” They said after a moment. “Graves by the way.” 

Ghost just stalked past him and went straight to Price’s office. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Uh. Long story, don’t feel like explaining. Why are you here?” Price was already sliding the bottle over to him and Ghost took it. 

“Bored. Wanted to know when my next raid would be?”

“I think Shepherd has you grounded. Next one is Alejandro’s.”

“Fucking hell. I don’t like sitting still.”

“And Shepherd doesn’t like losing. Come on. Be honest with me, I know you. I know how you are. So I know for a fact, you aren’t doing anything to MacTavish.” 

Ghost sighed. The scars on his body itch. “I didn’t… He said…”

“I know, son. But you painted a target on your back. You’re going to have to deal with the consequences until Shepherd gets over it. And that means being on basics for now. Stay home, protect the village, strike fear into people’s hearts. You know. You’re least favorite things to do.” Price smiled at him and Ghost groaned.

“Keep the booze coming. I’m going to be in a drunken stupor for the next few weeks.”

“Will do, Simon.” 

Simon. 

“It suits you.” 

Ghost blushed under his mask and nodded. “Keep me updated on his moods. And the guy in there… It serious?”

“Working on it.” Price grinned at him. “Look, enjoy your vacation.”

“Absolutely not.” Ghost shook his head.

Price laughed. “Come on, Simon. It might be good for you. Get rested. What do you normally do between missions?”

“Hide in my home. I can’t exactly do that right now.” 

Price was clearly trying to not laugh more. “Look, just… I think there’s a festival tonight. Go to that.”

“Where?”

“Near the church.”

“I’ll be on the opposite side of the city. Thanks.” Ghost stood up. “See you later, Captain.” 

Price nodded and followed him out of the office, heading towards the kitchen. Ghost decided he didn’t want to stick around any longer, being in so many buildings lately was starting to grate on him. 

He went by his home and put the bourbon on the table. Before Soap could notice him, he left again. The festival was one of the ones for the seasons. For once, all of his mind was in agreement that that was not something he wanted to do. 

Ghost ended up perched on a building most of the day, standing like a gargoyle. His presence seemed to be enough to scare most people away. He sighed, watching a bird flit closer to him and sit nearby. 

“What, am I not as scary as a scarecrow?”

The bird cocked its head but didn’t move.

“Guess not.” 

Soap. It felt like all his thoughts lately were dedicated to the man. He had moved closer again in the night. Ghost knew he should stop him. Should’ve shove him off or make him sleep in the floor. But he didn’t. 

Soap’s hands had gotten so close to his mask. Ghost tried not to compare him to… anyone really. It was difficult. Especially when he said things like that. 

Ghost carefully put his hands over his ears, not wanting to scare the birds near him. He was perfectly in control of himself. He knew that. It would be a terrible idea for him to be anything other than that. 

Ghost was a sinner. An awful one. Sin permeated his being. Scars lacing his skin from it. 

But he lusted. He wanted to hear Soap call him pretty. 

Maybe not pretty. 

They could find a better word. 

Would those lips be that soft against his skin? 

Soap had looked stunning in his clothing. Even better when he was asleep in his bed. 

Sex wasn’t all he wanted. Greed. He wanted more. Wanted Soap’s attention. To make Soap his. Intimacy. Devotion. 

He wouldn’t act on it. Wouldn’t be… Wouldn’t be Roba. 

Ghost sighed. “You’re a terrible conversationalist.” 

The bird chirped. 

Ghost shook his head. “Talk to you later.” He hopped down, landing rather hard. His feet ached, but it was a good pain. 

The walk home was quiet. At some point while he had been up there, the sun had disappeared and the air had gotten chilly enough for him to see his own breaths. 

Ghost, after kicking off his shoes because they were slightly muddy, went straight to the- his room. He stopped quickly at the door. 

Soap laid out on his bed, clearly drunk. He had undressed but the blanket had been draped over him. Ghost remembered seeing paintings of people as a kid. Beautiful women and men in lovely portraits. Soap just happened to be missing the wings.

“You’re home.” Soap said softly, like he barely noticed Ghost was there.  HIs head tilted back and Ghost could see all the way down to where the v of his hips were. Could count the scars on his torso. The blanket just barely kept him from seeing more and for once he was thankful for it. 

“I am. Waiting for me?”

“Getting even. Fixing each other’s problems.”

“What’s my problem?”

“The mask. Take it off.” 

“No.” Ghost mumbled to the air. Soap was too sincere which meant he wouldn’t hide his reaction. Ghost couldn’t fathom what would be worse. A look of disgust? Indifference? A comment about how pretty he was? The only thing he knew was he couldn’t handle any of it.

“You said you didn’t look. You’re looking now.”

“I suppose I am.” Ghost stared to move closer. He could see Soap was afraid, though not as much as he probably should be. 

“Is this what you wanted from me?” Ghost’s hand gently cupped Soap’s jaw, his thumb pressed lightly against his mouth. They would be just as a soft. 

He chose not to answer the question. 

The bottle of bourbon, now half empty, sat on the floor by their bed. 

“You’re drunk.” Ghost tried to keep his voice neutral.

“A little. Got nervous.”

“Why?”

Soap just stared at him and Ghost could see now. The glazed look in his eye, the redness of his face. He could smell the booze rolling off of him. 

“I think I scared you. Just a little. I don’t understand how.”

“You didn’t scare me.”

“I did.” Soap grabbed his mask but Ghost caught his wrist.

“You’re drunk.” 

“Exactly. Won’t remember in the morning.” It felt like bait. Ghost just couldn’t figure out what for.

He withdrew from him. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” He grabbed the covers and roughly pulled them up, covering Soap’s figure as he looked away. “You’re drunk.”

“Why would you care about something like that?” Soap stared up at him. It wasn’t judgemental. That was the worst part. It was just calm curiosity.

“You won’t remember anything in the morning, right?” 

“Not a thing.” 

Ghost nodded. “I kinda liked when you called me pretty.” He shoved him down so he was flat on his back and left him. 

He made sure to grab the bottle. 

It was empty before the morning came.

[genopaint]

Last but not least for September: Week 39! Alright! Week 39!

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #266 - Horned Salamander

These big chubby lizards are famous for being lazy, often found sleeping wherever their nests are. However larger members of their species have shown the ability to withstand any type of elemental damage. Ranging from Fire to Ice and beyond

Daily Dragon #267 - Blue Dragon

ANOTHER dragon I knew I wanted to do from the very start. I still LOVE this game and it's always to treat to come back and draw Shu and the Blue Dragon again... Maybe eventually I'll draw the other teammates too lol

Daily Dragon #268 - Stutter

Full name, "Studdley Windwave the 3rd". Their friends just call them Stutter because of their stuttering problem they like to tease them for.

This is another dragon redraw!! This time of this funny fella! I drew them once or twice and never really did anything with them. In fact, the name Stutter is brand new. So that's neat. Idk what powers they have... uuuuuh. they're cute that's good enough

Daily Dragon #269 - Spiked Dragon

When living in areas with particularly light sand, these dragons can blend right in and be quite a problem for desert wanderers and occasionally even beach-goers.

This is a redraw of THIS dragon from 2016! Not my most ground breaking dragon but I wasn't feeling SUPER creative today so I thought it'd work good enough. Hope you like the redesign!

Daily Dragon #270 - Dragon Kazooie

I haven't played Banjo Tooie yet but I am kind of in love with Kazooie and I do sort of like dragons a little bit... Hmmmm

Daily Dragon #271 - Dragon Czar

A large, powerful beast. The Dragon Czar is famous for its blue flames and purple scales. It can be either friend or foe at a moments notice, but you never want to be on its bad side.

Another alt medium one! This one is made entirely out of cut up scraps of construction paper! While this may have been one of the most entertaining to see come together, getting it all to sit perfectly for the picture was a NIGHTMARE lmao. Hopefully you all like how it came out!

I accidentally breathed wrong and destroyed it so I decided to also share how it looked split apart! here's all the individual parts! 9 sheets of paper used, and I managed to use one of each color EXCEPT for green! Are you proud of me for showing restraint?