#i fear this one used up all of my creative juices cause i have no idea what to do for Slime tomorrow

[koji-haru]

Time Travel AU Part: 12

[Gotta be honest, I struggled to write this chapter. The creative juices just wasn't flowing 🫤. Also might have been half asleep while writing this.]

“Now, Eve.”

Sera directed the attention to the distressed woman still in Adam’s embrace. Fear, guilt and shame all flooded her recently reformed and fragile mind. She folded into herself, afraid to face the new reality she had subjected herself into.

“For disregarding the warnings given to you by eating the only fruit forbidden to you, you have caused evil to be released into the world,” Sera announced as she stepped closer to Eve. “You are to be expelled from paradise and must work the ground for your food. Blisters will form on your hands, your legs will be permeated with fatigue.” She stopped just in front of the woman, her eyes softening up a little as she looked down at the trembling woman. Eve’s cries a loud echo in the silence of the garden, her despair a suffocating blanket that pervaded the air.

“However, you will not be alone to face this hardship,” Sera continued, her words careful and slow this time. “You will be given a companion, made from a part of you.” This time, Eve looked up from Adam’s chest, puffy red eyes wide with shock and confusion. 

“What? Why?,” Eve asked in a trembling voice.

“Heaven refuses to make another human from Eden’s soil only to become corrupted with sin, nor are we willing to send Adam out with you as he had remained pure and free of sin,” Sera answered in a blunt and absolute manner, leaving no room for arguments. 

But Eve didn’t care. Sera could dangle her authority over her all she wanted, but Eve wasn’t going to just allow them to separate her from her husband like that! At least not without resisting.

“But Adam is my husband,” she tried to argue. “I was made from him to become his wife. I am, quite truly, a part of him. We’re meant for each other, made for each other. You can’t separate us!”

Murmurs quickly spread amongst the angels gathered around the two humans. A palpable sense of indecision filled the air as others were convinced by Eve’s reasoning, finding it to be sound, while some remained steadfast in their initial judgement, preferring to secure their only remaining untainted human. Sera herself seemed to be a little less confident in her initial decree. 

Sera decided to consult the opinion of one of her and Heaven’s most respected archangels, Michael. He was always of sound mind and saw things fairly. Plus, other than Lucifer, he had the most knowledge about the garden and the humans in it. If he deemed Adam and Eve inseparable, then she would trust his judgement. While the other angels discussed amongst themselves, Sera quietly asked the archangel, “What do you think, Michael? Should we allow Adam to leave with Eve?”

The question hit Michael like a storm. Conflict occupied his mind, whirling scattered thoughts around. What did he think? Normally, Michael prided himself to be fair and just, unwilling to let biases cloud his judgement, but… All he could think of right now was that he didn’t want Adam to leave because that meant he wouldn’t be able to spend time with Adam anymore. He wanted him to stay in the garden with him. But the idea of being the cause of Adam and Eve’s separation, the separation of husband and wife, didn’t sit well with him at all. He felt like he’d just be doing what Lucifer did, except this time he would be keeping Adam away from Eve. 

After he gave it some more thought, his conflicting feelings clashing against each other, he finally answered, “How about we let Adam decide?” 

Though the words that left his mouth gave Adam the freedom of choice, his mind secretly hoped that Adam would choose to stay. I don’t want him to suffer a difficult life. The world outside of Eden was dangerous and difficult and he had come to think of the first man as a precious friend. Although deep down, his heart knew why he truly wanted Adam to stay, despite having smothered the thoughts and convincing himself otherwise. Of course, he cared for Eve as well, but there was no changing her fate. Adam’s fate on the other hand, was not yet sealed. 

“Everyone,” Sera’s voice rang across the still debating crowd. “We will let Adam choose instead.” She then faced Adam, her brows slightly furrowed, lips in a thin line, a serious look in her silvery eyes. “Adam, do you wish to leave the garden and be with your wife? Think about it carefully.”

Eve turned to Adam, dishevelled red hair that stuck to her face, tearful blue eyes full of worry as she grasped both of his hands tightly. A silent plea for her husband to not leave her side. Adam looked down at the small soft hands that desperately latched onto his. It was a sad sight really, heart breaking even. In another life, he had suffered and endured earthly life with her for almost a millennia. He had starved with her, gotten sick with her and watched their children die with her. He had also explored the new world with her, created new things with her and raised their children with her. But that was another life. And that life was already over. Ever since he woke up in this new life, he already knew what his choice would be. He made up his mind a long time ago, and it wasn’t bound to change now. 

Adam kept his gaze down at his hands grasped by Eve, eyes completely unreadable. He sighed to himself, he would’ve preferred to not have Eve kicked out, but what was done was done. Well, here’s to one last pretend. Adam blinked a few times before looking Eve straight in the eyes with a sincere, but saddened look. 

He squeezed Eve’s hand, firmly but not too hard. With a wistful smile plastered on his face, he said, “Eve, I care for you deeply and I love you as my wife. Every moment with you was irreplaceable, and I want us to remain together…” Adam looked away and back down at their still connected hands. “But Eden is where I am closest to God, and I cannot imagine living without his light.” Eve’s hand trembled in his as tears fell onto his skin. “I’m sorry, but please understand this wasn’t an easy choice.”

Eve pulled her hands away from Adam, resting them over her chest. Betrayal invaded her whole being and tears started to flow freely from her rainy blue eyes as she let the sorrow that pierced her heart spill out. Her husband, Adam, had been nothing but loving to her since the first time they met under a tree. When he cried happy tears for her, the warmest smile on his lips. How did it end up like this? For him to suddenly be willing to abandon her when they had been inseparable since the beginning. Amongst the sorrow and disbelief, there was also hurt and a spark of anger amongst other things, all vying to escape and make itself known to the world outside. But those chaotic feelings she just had to accept, having deserved this outcome for having betrayed her husband first, though she hadn’t meant to. Eve shut her eyes tight, hoping that once she opened them again, she would find herself under Eden's twinkling night sky lying beside a peacefully sleeping Adam. But when she opened them again, all she saw was that she was alone this time.

—-

The reddening rays of the setting sun reflected off the grand gates of Eden giving it a soft golden glow. It would have been an inviting sight if it were not for the fact that Eve was going to pass through it with no hope of turning back. Eve stood just in front of it, sunken eyes staring at it with blank sorrow. 

Sera placed a cool hand on one of Eve’s shoulders. “While we would no longer visit you like we did before, know that God has not abandoned you.” She gently squeezed Eve’s shoulder in an attempt to give her some semblance of comfort and hope. Though corrupted, there was still hope that the second woman’s soul could be saved so long as she lived the rest of her life outside Eden as righteously as possible.

Eve shifted her gaze from Eden’s gates back towards the garden to give a final look to her first home and her first love. Adam opened his arms towards her in a final embrace and she swiftly took it. Her eyes dampened once more, but she had shed enough tears for today. From now on, she had no choice but to be stronger, not for anyone but for herself. The softness of his flawless skin, his warm earthy smell that always relaxed her, his silky brown locks she loved to comb with her fingers, and his lustrous golden eyes that were more beautiful than anything she had ever seen. Eve burned all of these sensations in her mind, to keep as precious memories for eternity. A soft kiss on her head and doleful eyes told her that it was time to go. 

“Farewell.”

Adam watched Eve’s form go through Eden’s gate until it had completely swallowed her, dooming her to a harsh life on Earth. It might just be the last time he’d ever see her. Did he change anything by preventing her from swallowing the apple? Was her soul at least salvageable this time? He hoped so, though he wouldn’t really know until much later. Still, he hoped. For old times sake. 

Though his eyes were dry, the gloom in them was quite real this time. He knew there was a very high chance that this would still happen and he had prepared himself for this moment; steeled his resolve not to leave with her. And while this was a different life now, and he had long ago moved from his love, in a way, the person that just left was still Eve. He had cared for her in his past life as she had for him, and some of that care still lingered even into this life. She was just that special he supposed. 

There had never been such a day in Eden. Dark grey clouds threatening to cry, animals silenced in lament, plants dulled and without their usual flourishing vibrance. Somehow all of these reflected in Adam’s eyes. The funeral of happier times. And Michael was one of the mourners. He had scrubbed his hands clean so many times already today that somehow it seemed to have gotten paler, bits of skin peeling off. Yet somehow, it still felt wet and warm and stained golden. Never would he have thought to ever witness that much angel blood, and for him to be the one to have spilt it. This was what it meant to be God’s sword, to be the hand that cuts down the wicked. He knew that, but still, this was something he never could have prepared for, and hoped not to ever need to prepare for. 

Michael stood beside Adam, both attendees to this funeral. A funeral of letting go of a loved one and being painted as a traitor in their eyes. Though he hated having to acknowledge it, there was a noticeable part inside of Michael that felt relief at Adam’s decision to remain in the garden. He hated it. Finding some sort of silver lining at Eve’s departure when it had clearly hurt Adam. This was simply another thing he had to keep to himself. 

Two attendees at today's funeral. Michael spread out his wings, letting one side drape over Adam. Mourners might as well stick together. 

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Michael spoke softly.

Adam’s lips quivered and silent tears rolled down his cheeks. Just this one instance he would lower down his walls. The wings draped around him gently pressed and directed his head to lean onto the angel, and Adam allowed him to. 

A pat on the back and the warm embrace of soft wings were Michael’s attempt to comfort the human beside him. He had seen the human upset before, like when Lilith first left him and he was alone in the garden, but he had never seen him cry. Michael leaned back his head towards Adam’s and whispered a promise he made long ago. The promise of companionship.

“They may have left, but I promise to remain with you.”

Adam chuckled bitterly to himself. This wasn’t what he truly wanted to gain when first woke back up in the garden. All he wanted was to remain in Eden and live the life that he was always meant to live. But whatever. It felt nice, Michael’s presence actually a solace to him. And so he let the moment continue.

Part 11

Part 13

[gaybananabread]

•• @hexalianrebel-blackfeathers #19 (Secret), How about a very funny secret identity reveal? >w< Miles gets some tickles from one or both of his parents, and through a folly of your choice (a minor injury, noticing his costume, or god forbid, him losing control of his powers) they realize that he's Spiderman. ••

TickleTober Day 19 - Secret

~OOOO THAT’S A GOOD IDEA!! All of Panda’s reqs have got my brain juices flowing in the best ways. I’ve got a feeling Jeff’s gonna seem a little nonexistent here; I did my best 🫡. This is mostly plot (read: angst/comfort) with some tickles, though I did try to work as many in as possible; I just had so many internal dialogue ideas. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy! Happy spooky season!~

Lee: Miles Morales

Lers: Rio and Jeff Morales

Summary: Exhausted from a tough night of crime fighting, Miles wakes up looking less than alive. His parents sit him down for a little cheer-up session, but it quickly morphs into something much more serious.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Miles groaned as he hauled himself out of bed, feeling the muscles in his shoulders and lower back scream in protest. Spot had been causing problems the night before, requiring the gang to go down and deliver his weekly ass-kicking. The spotted man had been getting more creative, he’d give him that.

Unfortunately for Miles, that meant he’d had to work twice as hard to bring the slippery jerk. He’d avoided the cops again, but the teen had recovered all the stolen tech. While it felt gratifying to protect the city, his body was wondering if it was worth it. It was, obviously, but still.

The exhausted spider barely noticed his parents in the living room, zombie-shuffling into the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart and a Monster. Not the healthiest breakfast, sure, but he needed a quick boost before he started on his homework. Uuuuugh, World History essays…

Rio, of course, snatched the can from his grip before he could poison himself with all the caffeine on an empty stomach. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Uuuuh…gettin’ breakfast?” He showed her the strawberry toaster pastry in his hand, hoping it’d get him out of the inevitable scolding. Why couldn’t his mom’s true crime show have been on to distract her?

“¡No en mi casa, Miles! You’re eating real food and drinking something other than this battery acid,” Rio huffed, trading the energy drink for a glass of milk and leftover tostones with eggs. She heated the food up and guided him to the table, placing a fork in his hand before he could process anything.

“Eat. After that, we’re talking.” Without giving him a moment to complain or speak, she went back to the couch, settling against her husband’s side.

Apparently, his mom's show was on; he could hear the gorey details, as well as his dad’s groans in response to some of the messier descriptions. Rio had left her favorite trash TV show to come and scold him. Not good…

Once he’d finished his reheated heaven, Miles slunk over to the couch. Maybe if he was slick enough about it, his mom would just let him cuddle up beside her and avoid conversation.

“Miles, sit. Your Dad and I need to talk to you.” Shiiiiiiiit. She was using the tone – the one kids and teens everywhere knew feared.

“Sure. What’s up?” Miles tried to play it cool, sitting languidly as he watched his parents’ faces.

“You’ve been really tired lately, Miles. It’s not like you.” Jeff spoke, giving Miles the “I’m here for you, but I know you’re hiding something” look. He really didn’t like how that look made his stomach twist; he felt bad enough about lying without his Dad’s skepticism.

“AP classes are kicking my butt, not anything new. More homework means less sleep.” That felt pretty believable. Of all Miles’s horrible lies, that one might’ve ranked in the top-ten.

“Come on, mijo; we aren’t stupid. You get most of your homework done at school, and we both know it.” Rio’s firm words shattered that little beam in his chest. He really needed to get better at lying…

“C’mon…” Miles sighed, grasping at straws. What could he tell them? Obviously not the truth – they’d be furious if they learned he’d been lying to them for over a year. He couldn’t think of any good lies, though, just sighing. “I dunno. It’s…it’s complicated, I guess. Don’t really wanna get into it.”

His parents seemed to take the angsty answer as a clear boundary, giving each other the parental “we’ll scheme later” look before addressing their son. Jeff leaned over Rio, patting the boy’s shoulder.

“Alright, Miles. We’ll leave it for now, but you gotta give us something. Why’re you so slow today?”

That was an easy answer: he was sore as all hell, fighting every muscle in his body with each subtle movement. Had to be an easier way to say that… “A few guys and I were playin’ ball down by my old school. I got a few in, but my arms are sore.”

They seemed to believe that one, his father’s hand switching to a gentle squeeze. “Hey, no pain, no gain. Gotta get those noodle arms conditioned.”

If only he knew how strong Miles truly was…best not to think about it. He still got to complain about physical activity with his facade anyway.

“Hey, hey! Leave the poor noodles outta this!” Miles hugged his arms to his chest, feeling a bit of playfulness rise in his chest. He was exhausted, sure, but people he was close to and having fun with tended to recharge his battery.

Rio picked up on the mood shift, her mom brain running through a few ideas on how to cheer him up. He was obviously still upset and facing something, but they couldn’t force him to tell them anything. It seemed, for that day at least, like perking him up was the best course of action.

Miles squeaked as he felt a poke on his side, narrowing his eyes at his mom. Rio chuckled knowingly, already moving to do it again. Miles tried to jump off the couch, but his dad’s squeezing hand quickly became a vice-like grip.

“Hey- noho! C’mon, Mohohom! Dahad!” Miles could’ve easily ripped himself out of his father’s grip, but that would reveal his secret to them; that definitely wasn’t happening until he was ready, or maybe ever. He wasn’t sure, honestly. All he was sure of was that his mom’s tickling was getting more insistent.

“Nope. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen my baby boy really laugh. This is long overdue.” Rio moved her wiggling fingers higher, curling them around his ribcage. As expected, he folded like a lawn chair, trying to curl in on himself while also suppressing his spider strength.

“Jeff, mi amor, little help?”

Jeff smiled before hooking his hands beneath Miles’s arms, dragging him across Rio’s lap, and pinning said arms above his head. It wasn’t a very good spot for Miles to be stuck, but his parents seemed utterly amused.

“D-Dahahahad! Youhu trahaitor! Ihi’ll remehehember- NYAHAHAHAHOHO! M-MAHAHAMI!” Miles thrashed like a worm on a hook as he suddenly felt his mom’s nails on the bottoms of his socked feet, wiggling evilly as they made him lose his mind. Of all the places she could’ve chosen to target, why did it have to be his feet?

“But I’m having so much fun! What about you, Jeff’?”

“Absolutely. He’s kinda cute like this, all giggly smiles. I could get used to it.” Jeff obviously shared her sentiments, gently scratching a finger against his son’s wrists. He usually left the overly physical affections to his wife, but he was enjoying himself.

Miles didn’t know what to feel.

First off, his parents, plural, were tickling him to pieces. His friends were the only ones who’d done that within the last few years, save for Miguel and Peter B. Secondly, it freaking tickled! Like, a lot! His mind was taken back to much earlier days of his mom making him shriek for lying, refusing to eat his vegetables, and when he…asked. Oh shit.

Mom knows I like this.

That single thought alone was enough to break his brain; when he felt his mom’s nails glide up to his armpits, it was all over.

“GYAAAHAHAHA! MOHOHOHOM!” With a shriek of laughter, Miles suddenly disappeared.

Rio yelped, while Jeff sputtered some less-than-appropriate phrases. They could both still feel their son on top of them, but…he was hidden from sight.

Just like Spider-Man.

“Me cago en Dios…” Rio felt her heart pump double-time in her chest, a feeling of cold shock and realization settling over her. Her son, her sweet boy, was Spider-Man. Worse, he’d felt the need to lie to her. For a year.

Miles would’ve loved to stay invisible, but his body followed it’s usual “fuck you, I do what I want” routine; he popped back into their sights, a look of pure terror on his face. What would they think? What would they do? Would his dad react like Gwen’s initially did?

Jeff was much less calm than his wife with his reactions. He dropped Miles’s wrists in a hurry, staring right into his son’s eyes. He’d been right there, right in the danger with him, shoved him out of the way to take hits way too heavy for a teenager. When it came time to actually speak, the man could only force two words past his heavy lips.

“Miles…why?”

Shit. That was so much worse than anger.

“I-I can explain! I was- it wasn’t on purpose. Well, a-all the Spider-Man stuff was, but not getting there! I got bit by somethin’, just like the original dude, and it gave me powers. I couldn’t not help people, ya know? Dad? Mom?”

Miles rushed the words out as he looked between their stunned faces, unable to move off their laps. Well, he wanted to, but his body was too shocked and afraid to do much, aside from twist his fingers and occasionally shake.

“Please say something?”

“Why did you hide this?” Rio was the first to say a complete sentence, though it followed the basis of her husband’s two words of dismay. She didn’t look as horrified as his father did, but she definitely wasn’t humming a tune and giggling.

“I…had to. To keep you safe. I wasn’t… I didn’t have everything figured out. By the time I did, it was already kinda too late.”

“You didn’t have to! You could’a told me! I could’a helped you with half the crazy assholes you’ve fought!” There was Jeff, expressing his emotions by shouting. He felt his son flinch from the volume, immediately adjusting himself. “I never would’ve let you face off against some’a those fuckers…”

“That’s the problem, Dad. I’ve got a responsibility, just like you. I can’t just abandon New York because a bad guy could whoop me! Sure, I get banged up sometimes, but I’ve got a healing factor. I can fix a broken rib in a week.”

Miles hoped that would be enough to soothe the hurt and fear on his father’s face. It wasn’t even close to enough, but it did give him some information.

“But you shouldn’t have to know that! You’re 15! You should be worryin’ about girls and puberty and drivin’, not saving the whole damn city!”

Miles felt that it was a bad time to mention that he saved the whole damn state, not just Brooklyn, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Mi precioso niño… You could’ve told us. We could’ve been there. We’re your parents, Miles!” Rio grabbed his arm, bringing it down from above his head to really examine the skin there. Sure, enough, she found scars; faint, thanks to the healing factor, but she traced each one with reverence. “Sentías que no podías confiar en nosotros...”

“I didn’t not wanna trust you! I just… It’s hard. I didn’t wanna put you in harm's way, and I didn’t know what you’d do if I told you.” Miles’s voice finally betrayed him, wobbling as he forced back tears. He preferred anger. Anger was reciprocated, easy, mindless. But the fear and hurt? Those were killing him.

Miles felt his mom brush away a tear he didn’t even realize he’d shed. Rio looked over at her husband, the two having a silent conversation before she spoke. “We’re not mad, Miles. Well, I really wish you hadn’t hidden this, but we’re not gonna get angry. We love you, baby, and we’re here for you.”

“For whatever you need, hear me? We love you, Miles; more than anything on this damn planet No more hiding. You tell us everything.” His father’s voice cut in as well, a little shaky, but still firm. Still there, not kicking him away or shunning him for his misdeed. They were supporting him…

A jolt of warmth shot right into his heart, followed by the crushing weight of all he’d been keeping from them. Tears started flowing as he curled on his side, hiding his face in the closest abdomen – his father’s. Jeff sighed, gently petting his son’s head as he sobbed.

Rio carefully rubbed Miles’s legs, feeling hidden muscles as she tried to soothe him. He was in so much trouble later, but…the knowledge was hurting him, too. The burden of living the life he was apparently just tossed into. She knew what that felt like, and she wasn’t about to get mad at her son for it.

With a shaky sigh, Rio leaned her head on Jeff’s shoulder, her hazel eyes met his. Both parents knew one thing: they’d do anything for their son.

Even if it meant raising a superhero in a crime-ridden, super-powered city. They were not going to abandon their boy, no matter what. They loved him, and that was never changing.

[albentelisa]

Hey! I've got an ask for you and I don't mind if it takes a while, because I know that you've probably got so many asks in your inbox, but I wanted to know how do you think Jim would (if he ever did) progress to become a villain and no one realises it until too late?

(I'm feeling a bit angsty this week)

Also, btw, I love your hcs- they're actually really cool and really well thought over, and some of them just really get my creative juices flowing. They always make me smile, especially when I've had a bad today so just... thank you 💙)

Hi! Thank you for your kind words ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Actually, I have some 'bad end scenarios' with Jim ending as a villain (or sorta).

Grit-shaka. Let's say, Jim never managed to get to Bular in Young Atlas, so he never realizes the true importance of fear. Sure thing, Grit-shaka caused some complications, but those were more or less minor. Jim decides to use Grit-shaka in battles occasionally. Unfortunately for him, it seems like a great decision at first as he gets several victories (against goblins and several changelings). However, as Grit-shaka is a Gumm-Gumm object, it's actually harmful, not only taking away Jim's fears but slowly eroding his moral brakes, so eventually Jim reaches the point where anyone getting hurt doesn't even matter. That's where Toby and even Draal start to realize the extent of the damage done (Blinky is against Grit-shaka from the very start but no one is listening). However, it's already too late because Jim gets too addicted to Grit-shaka and cannot function without it at all. Grit-shaka also gives him some horrible ideas, culminating in him freeing Gunmar and letting him take over the Trollmarket (and get the power up after absorbing the Heartstone energy) so that Jim can fight Gunmar in his prime. It ends as bad as you can imagine.

Decimaar mind control. So, the trip to the Darklands leaves Jim with an unexpected 'baggage' - it turns out that Gunmar's attempt to mind control him wasn't a total failure. Neither it is a full success, yet Jim has short blackouts sometimes when he cannot remember his actions. It turns out that Gunmar has managed to instill his will upon Jim's soul, basically creating a separate personality who is loyal to Gunmar. Jim isn't aware of it for a long time (he chalks everything to stress and overexhaustion). Meanwhile, his other personality keeps spying for Gunmar and helping him in the incoming takeover of the Trollmarket. When Jim comes to Gunmar for the first time, Gunmar initially wants to make him his puppet, but seeing the second personality who is loyal to him, makes him amused, so he decides to nurture that one instead, strengthening it during each visit. Jim's friends realize that something is very wrong when Jim isn't able to remember some of his actions or conversations they had. However, everyone thinks that it can be an infiltration from a polymorph like Otto. So, the team designs a special code to be able to tell apart the real Jim from the fake. The problem is that Jim's second personality knows code as well, so it's pointless. Eventually, Gunmar takes over the Trollmarket and erases Jim's initial personality, keeping him by his side as his loyal champion.

Aspectus Stone and Hunter Jim. This one isn't much of the villain one, but still nasty for Jim. So, Jim manages to send all of his copies back, and at first, everything is back to normal. However, Jim isn't aware that the experience was damaging to his psyche and now his soul is imbalanced. He turns more mission-focused, gradually losing his other interests. It's pretty minor at first so his team easily chalks it to Jim feeling guilty because of Gunmar's escape. He starts to skip school, refuses fun activities, and is rarely at home at night. Blinky tries to talk to him about it, but Jim just waves him off. Toby starts to panic when Jim stops cooking, and Claire notices how cold Jim becomes towards her and basically everyone else. She encounters him and asks if he is Hunter Jim (as she is the only one who has met that one), but Jim tells her he is the only Jim. That's when everyone realizes that something is really off, but it's too late. Jim cuts ties with everyone and goes alone to fight Gunmar, only to be defeated and fall under his mind control.

Gravesand. So, in this scenario, Blinky doesn't stop Jim's training with gravesand in time, so it causes some permanent damage, leaving Jim with some troll traits and a feral mind. Moreover, Jim gets addicted to the gravesand, stealing it from Strickler (who has already realized his mistake and tries his best to keep it away from Jim). The gravesand makes Jim attack everyone as he gets highly aggressive. He doesn't even remember his role as the protector anymore, simply enjoying battles and carnage. He ends up killing several Gumm-gumms and good trolls and for him, it's no different. Gunmar finds him in this state and finds it amusing, so he decides to keep Jim as his feral pet and force him to fight his enemies.

Merlin taking 'his champion' thing too far. Another not-that-much villain scenario, but well... So in this one, Jim's friends and family never reach him at the rooftop, and Merlin is the one who finds him there. It is the moment of ultimate vulnerability for Jim, and instead of support, he gets the manipulator. Jim confesses that it's too much for him to realize what exactly he has lost (😢) and Merlin proposes the solution - which is basically wiping out all Jim's memories except ones concerning his mission. When everyone reaches Jim, it's already too late, and the irreversible damage is done. In his state Jim has no trouble defeating Gunmar, however, it turns out that he's highly vulnerable to Morgana's manipulations and she makes him change sides, convincing him that she is the one who tries to build the perfect world for trolls (and in Jim's mind, he is the champion of the trollkind, meaning that he has to protect them first). Morgana makes Jim her new champion and uses him to hunt her opponents.

Obsidian shard's corruption. This one is post-Wizards. It turns out that while Claire managed to turn Jim human, the evil influence residue remained. It's unnoticeable at first, with Jim simply being easily annoyed, which everyone explains as a consequence of his transformations and losing the amulet. However, Jim is haunted by his memories of Camelot times and the abuse trolls faced there. Those ignite some rage inside his soul and it takes a while until Jim can calm down (which gradually becomes more and more difficult). He also starts to feel some odd repulsion towards humans. Barbara and Toby suffer from it the most (Claire and Douxie are fine because they are wizards, and Jim doesn't treat them differently). It ends up with the Arcane Order contacting Jim and convincing him to join their side and build a better world for magical beings.

[nerves-nebula]

I’ve been thinking about Leo finally having (one of) his “I’ve Realized Things” confessions with his bros a lot lately. Like, what it would take to get him to admit to having problems that can’t be solved without the professional help he’d be scared to seek.

I feel like he’d never admit anything himself. It would have to be something someone else surprised him with, something he wasn’t prepared for and didn’t have any walls up to defend. He can’t be given the opportunity to defend himself, he has to be open and raw with his emotions, and he’s rarely ever that. It would practically have to jumpscare him, something that catches him off guard so much that he’s too stunned to realize he’s opening himself up to being vulnerable.

I’ve been jokingly thinking of him like those terrible juice boxes I used to have as a kid, with the blunt straws that never properly punctured the plastic. The straw would bend and flatten against the box, not making so much as a dent, except for in one tiny spot. But once you hit that spot, it’s free game. He’s opened and now he can’t close himself back up and the pain and fear and come vomiting up, torrenting from his lips, and his anxiety about the situation only makes it worse, like squeezing the juice box in panic when you take too big a sip. He just blurts out all his feelings and can’t stop until his heart is laying on the floor for anyone nearby to crush because he wasn’t defended in that exact moment, and it’s terrifying, yet freeing.

Sorry, that got a bit prose-y there, but I wanted to share my recent thoughts.

-monster anon

MONSTER ANON, you are a being after my own heart because yes you basically just described Leo and, on occasion, me, in glorious poetic detail.

You’ve basically got his number on this one. He’s emotionally constipated and sorta needs to be forced to talk about his emotions. In truth he kinda daydreams about being in a situation where he’s forced to talk about how he feels cause he can’t see it happening any other way. But then when his brothers actually corner him about FEELINGS he freaks out. But yeah, basically he’s gotta be broken down or surprised. You’ve really gotta chip at him cause he’s a master of running away from a conversation.

I like the juice box analogy, very fitting and creative.

[findingtarshish]

probably could've sent these in one ask oops JHGSDJKFS but for the weird questions for writers / 723997273419333632 this post , 6 + 7 + 14 + 24 :3 !!

GDGFRYGDESDF ITS OK I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THINGS

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

I'm gonna answer 6 and 7 together bc they're related. The way I write is very stream of consciousness, usually. I create a character, then lend them a part of my brain and let them be. This lets me see my characters as people rather than words on a page, and I adore that. I have created a form of life, and it is through creation that we usurp the uniqueness and power of the divine. My darkest fear is that the stories I write hurt my creations, and cause them pain, and that's not easy to do when you see that creation as a person.

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

Sometimes! Last book I lent out was The Book, by Keith Houston, and it was to my mom (she never actually read it). I had to reclaim it because I caught her using it as a coaster >:(

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

I tend to write at my desk, in my bedroom! I usually have a second screen, which I use to display related media (if I'm writing vampires, I through on an episode of LABN, if I'm writing a whip fighter, I'll through on a playthrough of Darksiders 3, sci-fi, an episode of star trek, etc. It helps get the creative juices flowing and keeps the adhd at bay) I usually write on my main monitor, which is an old dim thing from early last decade that I hooked up to my laptop with a hdmi to vga adapter cable. I also try to use natural light rather than lamps.

[coreytravelogue]

Portland, Oregon - Nov 10, 2024

It took me longer to get here but I got here nonetheless. What would a trip be without a story of stupidity from me?

Stupid me thought that he could arrive an hour or so before boarding and think that he could get through security and customs before boarding on a long weekend. Well that mistake cost me much of the day today as I missed the flight and had to spend 90 bucks for a 7 hour bus trip to Portland because the flights were not 1300. WHO in the hell would pay for a flight like that?

Well I went home, had to good to go meal from 7/11 which was impressively well proportioned. I wish I could have brought what I had left with me but I assumed that I would not be able to take a chicken wrap and an egg salad sandwich through customs with me. It will probably be moulding by the time I get home. I am such a big fan of too good to go. You can get good portioned food at a lower price. Not only that but you are fighting food waste. It is a win win across the board, I can only hope to do it in Portland too. Probably not unless there is wifi to be used there.

I was still able to make a day out of it. I always tend to get into a writing kick when I am on a bus or train. I do not know what it is about being a passenger in a moving object that gets my creative juices flowing. Maybe I should try to put bus rides like this into my itinerary. I may not get to the destination as quickly but it is more cheaper, get to see more scenery and allows me to get my writing juices going.

Started writing a horror story, first one I ever started. I do not know where it came from but I am trying to give it Evil Dead or Cocaine Bear vibes. We will see where things go with it.

If I wind up losing my job and can’t find another job not long after I may just take the chance and try to make this movie. I am making it with figuring I will have to do it on the cheap cheap cheap in mind though it may be hard to pull off especially this may involve zombie moose.

I am just glad I am in Portland in one peace now ready to start after my traditional Benny eggs breakfast I try to have wherever I am. This is the first time I have been to the USA since 2019 with my ex girlfriend to see Seattle and to go to a concert she wanted to see. I wish I could look fondly on that time but when I do I do in regret. I was a huge asshole to her around this time. I will leave it at that.

Much has happened in the world overtime which was made me reluctant to visit the USA, right now may not be the best time either just after an election. My German friends did not have many good things to say about Portland when I asked. I heard crime has went down in Portland considerably but I always approach the USA in fear regardless. Arriving in Portland at 11pm it was worrisome but thankfully I was not too far from my hotel/apartment.

So my first true day in Portland will be today, it should be a full day of Jayne hatting followed by a basketball game. Monday Jayne hatting all day. Tuesday I will turn 40 and try to make the most of the day which will be rainy but most of my birthdays since being in the Pacific Northwest have been rainy. I just don’t want to get sick but then better to be sick now than in Newfoundland.

Wednesday I will definitely try to be at the airport early. I got away with getting out of Vancouver late but I don’t think I want to get away with getting back to Vancouver late.

Year 39 is drawing to a close. Thinking about this year in my life is mixed but I could say that about most of the years of my life. The only years I would say felt grand or straight forward was years 30 to maybe 33 or 34. Year 39 was a mix of anxiety, rage and decided to just take leaps.

My work life which I will not get into here caused me the anxiety, stress and rage. Unfortunately it still does with no conclusion coming anytime soon. Probably unless I imitate it.

Year 38 was to learn from 37 and 38 and actually take plunges. 37 was me dipping my toes into travel again as we were getting out of COVID-19. 38 was supposed to be the return to travel but unstable airlines and high flight prices scared me away from it.

Year 39 started with a trip back to Montreal. Should have brought better shoes and warmer clothes but serves me right. Either way Montreal was a great time. I regret not going anywhere special for the April long weekend but I wanted to save some money and just go to Victoria which I can usually always have fun there.

By summer though I came to the realization that there will never be a better time than now to go to Japan so Japan was and is the main highlight of year 39 finally scratching off that country from my bucket list. Now that I got the gist of how to travel there I want to go again, just not in the summer time.

Now Portland which I feel makes things full circle as back in 2020 my April trip was going to be Portland, followed by Alaska and at sometime Japan. Of course 2020 had other plans. Alaska will not be on the itinerary this year. Probably not even next year. Who bloody knows. It is too expensive to go there and it doesn’t seem worth it.

I want to talk about my 30s at a different time but I can’t help but think about year 40 and how I want to keep up the momentum. Year 40 will more than likely be a year that my life changes forever, hopefully for the better if I can move to Newfoundland and away from where I work currently.

If I do not move to Newfoundland then Japan or Australia is on the docket. April long weekend I am contemplating Fort McMurray again. I want to see it one last time because it may just be so. If there is time and the cost is right Whitehorse one last time too. Seattle one last time as well if I can make it work. Japan or Australia in the fall than Newfoundland again. If I live in Newfoundland maybe I still will but it may be easier and cheaper to start hitting Europe or even eastern USA which is a part of the USA I have seen the least. Moving to Newfoundland will have me closer to family but also free up a considerable amount of leave time. Instead of splitting time between Newfoundland and elsewhere I can set it specifically elsewhere.

One of 2 things will happen, I am hoping Newfoundland thought it will come with its own challenges. Being 40 and living with my parents again hurts my pride but in today’s economy and their deteriorating health it makes the most sense. Why rent a place in the area when I would probably be spending most of my off hours with my folks anyway?

I would also be away from a workplace I am beyond done with. Done to thinking of quitting but I want to assess my options first. If I stay in Vancouver by the time year 40 ends I must have done something wrong. But if I do stay II want to try and make it count. I can’t be afraid of travel anymore. While I am still physically in good shape I know my stomach will start to give me problems going forward, I can feel I am losing more energy as well, I am unable to be spring up as well as I was able to not long ago. I feel I am still in my prime but I know after my 40s I will be in my slow decline. I need to start hitting the places I want to see and get lost in while I still have the legs to do it.

I am starting to understand why so many people just do nothing on their vacations but find a sunny place to just lay down and do nothing. I am still not a sunny beach guy maybe more of a winter retreat sort of fellow.

Japan was exhausting for both the good and bad reasons. Good in that I made every day count where I could and bad in that I was so tired by the end of it and if there is one thing I did not enjoy about Japan was feeling so alone there. To be honest I have this problem everywhere but it felt worse there.

If I was to go back I would probably do Sapporo again, Hakone without question, Tokyo maybe but definitely not for a week but I was try to go to other places like Nagoya and Hiroshima. I would definitely avoid Kyoto next time around. I already miss the beer and Ghengis Khan. In Hakone I just miss the vibe. If I was in Sapporo without question I would stay at Hotel Tokeidai again. Hakone I would not stay at the hostel and try to find a more comfortable digs, that said if I was stuck there again I would not fret too much. In Tokyo I would stay in the same place again easily. This time always get the continental breakfast.

I have thought about going back to Edmonton, last year I sincerely thought it was going to be my last time there as with the efforts I was making to try and get to Newfoundland would pay off but they didn’t. I want to see my friend again.

When I move to the east coast coming back to places like Edmonton, Victoria, Seattle or even Vancouver itself will be harder. I do not know if I will ever want to be in Vancouver or stay in Vancouver ever again once I go. I do not have the jaded view of it I had 10 years ago or hold the trauma I once had though being downtown does sometimes put me in the dumps. There is just nothing and almost no one to go back to see, just about everyone is gone. Victoria I will be back to, Seattle I can see going to too. We can wait and see with Portland. Edmonton I can see most likely coming back but even then who knows when.

I have to be prepared for the moment I leave and say goodbye to Vancouver forever but it is time to say hello to Portland first.

To be continued soon. Shazbot nanu nanu

[impartialbias]

Sci-Fibruary Day 18: Computer

[celestialmango]

(an anon sent me a prompt a while ago that caught my interest and I tweaked it a little so I wouldn't get writers block and get stuck but honestly whoever you are anon, great job👍, I loved it but it just took awhile for creative juices to flow so I could write it out.)

Soft vore, stuffing, unwilling Prey, ambiguous ending, reader insert, fatal mentions.

🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭🍡🥭

Holy shit, you shiver in fear at the knowledge just given to you by the college staff, you shouldn't have signed up for the dorms fuck what do you do? You don't know but you don't have a choice now, you chosen a college far from home and didn't have the money to rent a place. You can see pity on the staffs face as if they know they signed your death warrant. You take a deep breath, stand up and leave.

You don't have a choice, you can't afford to go anywhere else, you were just assigned to be the roommate of a well-known upper class man Pred on campus, as you slowly walk a down the path to the main dorm you feel you have to think, what do you do? as you enter the building....you have an idea, it might be dumb, might not even work but if a plan like this might help you survive you have to at least try it right? You clap your hands and pray to whatever deities are out there that this will work.

You walk down the hall to your assigned dorm room and knock on the door, after a moment it opens and you're face to face with a gurgling bulge of a stomach, you try not to let it phase you as you look up at the towering form rubbing the back of their neck before they look down at you, before the can do anything you play your cards 'o-oh wow you're tall! Hi I'm (y/n)!' you say with an innocent friendly smile 'the dorm manager assigned me as your roommate, from the sound of it you sound pretty hungry which is great! I wanted to invite you out to a buffet I saw on my bus ride to campus for lunch, my treat!' you look at them expectantly waiting for a reply after your word vomit.

After a few minutes of silence and them just staring down at you begin to fidget in place, they just blink at you slowly, looking as if they're debating some as they lift a hand to their mouth and yawn, you fidget a bit more nervously as you see how wide their maw can stretch and see their sharp canines dripping with saliva before their hand drops and their jaw relaxes. Their other hand finds it's way to the back of your shirt and they bring you inside the room before dropping you on a giant beanbag chair, they yawn again "Nnnn fuck it sure, give me a minute, I gotta put on some pants."

Phase one of plan play dumb success! The staff members said your roommate would eat you as soon as they opened the door, but instead you convinced them to a buffet instead, you take your chance to look around the room and your smile drops a little into a look of concern and confusion. There's only one bed. After getting dressed the come out of a bathroom and see your face "what's with you?" They ask sounding a little hostile, you respond by letting your face flush and scratching your cheek with a finger 'u-um well.' their eyes are gazing at you like a hawk 'there's only one bed in the room, this college doesn't really make roommates share a bed do they?' the Predator responds with an unnerving grin "most of my roommates don't last long."

Deflect! Deflect and act cute! You smile at them innocently again and tilt your head 'oh? Did they get kicked out for some reason or something?' their grin gains an aura of menace. "Or something." You put a hand on your chin in thought, 'by the way how do we get to town from campus? Do you have a car or will we be taking a bus to buffet.' their grin drops as they pause for a moment raising their eyebrow, "do you honestly think someone my size can fit in a car? Because the answer is no." You just grin at them 'guess I'll be paying for bus passes too then' they shake their head "naw, the college provides monthly passes, now come on, we'll want to hurry because the next one will leave soon." You look startled before you leap up, 'ok'.

You have trouble keeping up with them as you both run so they quickly turn back pick you up and tuck you under their arm before rushing to the bus stop, they really want that free food you offered, a chance to pig out that they don't have to pay for sounds great to them.

-----------

To saw you were surprised at how much $5 at a buffet could stretch was an understatement, barely half an hour and a tower of plates was stacked on the table you two sat at and as the pred finished their final plate a well dress person came up and banned you both from coming back, as you both stood on the sidewalk you spoke with a stunned look on your face 'i didn't know it was possible to get kicked out of an all you can eat buffet' the pred patted at their large gut "yeah, pity. I'm not even full yet." They pause looking like they're thinking about something again when you spoke again 'what? Seriously? You ate out the entire buffet.' they look towards you again with a strange gaze that you don't even notice and answer.

"I could go for more." You don't even see them reach for you before you turn to them with a mischievous grin while ask them an question that interests them greatly 'wanna see how many buffets we can banned from in a day?' they hesitate, the hand they were about to snatch you up freezes for a second before it reaches down to pat your shoulder instead as they give you a wide grin and an enthusiastic reply "hell yeah." And off you both went to cause as much chaos as possible before you had to go back to campus.

-----

A few hour later and they can barely squeeze themselves out of the doors of the bus as you return to campus, their gut bulging out so large it look as if they ate a moose, the both of you laughing '-i mean the look on that guys face when you snatched up and ate an entire turkey whole as they chased us out was priceless' "pfft yeah but what about the other guy when I ran out of the kitchen with that pot of soup a chugged it?" You both walk towards the dorm 'he looked like he was about to faint! That was right off the stove! Like boiling hot! How in the world did that not burn like you were drinking lava?' "heat resistance is a wonderful thing" they reply grinning from ear to ear.

After they open the door and you're about turn to leave to talk to staff about finishing the dorm paperwork their hand presses against your back a shove you into their room, you don't see a dark look flash across their face for a moment before disappearing, there is an unnerving tone to their voice that gives no room for argument as they speak "hey now, how about we spend a bit more time together?" It doesn't sound like a question but more like an order. Afraid and nervous about what may happen if you say no, you agree.

They hand you a controller and ask in a voice, as if they know exactly how the words sound

"Wanna smash?" 'Hah' you can't help the laugh that comes out, you shouldn't have told them about your weakness to dirty jokes.

----

Time passes fast as you play smash bros together for a while then move on to more multiple play games, you keep noticing they way they glance at you sometimes with a look that scares you, sometimes licking their lips, you notice as time goes by the size of their stomach decreases and the more it does, the more these moments of staring increase.

Their stomach growls a low long sound and you feel like you're sweating as you shiver while a chill shoots down your spine,you speak in a shaky voice as you get up and start walking towards the door 'w-ell t-this has been fun but I have speak to staff about sleeping arrangements as there's not room for me her right now' you open the door a crack before it slams shut, you see the Pred's hand above you and the other engulfs your shoulder, the tone Pred speaks to you in makes your heart stop "oh I have room." Before the spin you around, pinning your arms to your sides as their jaw stretches open and they lift you up , shoving your head inside and swallowing before you can properly process the situation.

The grip of their throat is tight, but the fleshy tube contracts and releases easily as the experienced muscles drag you deeper inside, you snap out your stunned state a futilely kick and squirm , the struggles doing nothing except helping you slide down faster, the Pred groaning at your flavor as they gulp heavily and fast, impatient and greedy they feel they have waited for this long enough. Your head passed through the opening to their stomach and thinking fast you hold your breath, closing your eye as your face is shoved into the pile of half digested remains of the multiple buffets they cleaned out.

You're quickly force inside, curling up you gasp as your head emerges from the slurry of food, it stick to your hair, a foul acidic smell in your nostrils, you barely have the room to move and you start to cry feeling a bit betrayed but your soft sobs can't be heard over the gurgles and groans of the chamber as it continues to work on the food around you.

-----

"Aaah that hit the spot." They plop back down on their beanbag, their gut having grown in size once more, they give it a couple pats then rub it lightly "out of everything I ate today you are definitely the tastiest." They mean that fully, they had been planning to do this since they were first told that staff was going to once again, try to give them a roommate, a freshman this time, you were always going to feed them, they just didn't expect you to do it in more ways than one.

They continue to switch between rubbing and patting their their gut as a thoughtful look crosses their face, they had made up their mind to eat you, nothing you did was ever going to change that, however, what happens afterwards is still up for debate because honestly you are probably the first one staff sent that was actually friendly towards them instead of an entitled jackass , you also took them out and let them stuff themselves till they couldn't eat anymore, they had to wait to digest a bit before they could fit you in too, but even then they had a really good time today with you.

Considering who and what they were it wouldn't take but a second to cast the spell they would need to keep you from being lost inside their stomach forever, hell you might even actually be a good roommate if they give you that chance....a low whiny gurgle sounds from their gut. Whatever their decision is they will need to make it soon, they have about 15 minutes before the acid in their stomach starts to affect you too.

[bakusquad-assemble]

hiya lol could you write a bakugou x reader and (they're dating already) and he's just being soft for her and cuddling in his dorm and he starts tickling her and she's screaming n stuff so the class rush in and are totally not expecting to see bakugou practically sat on reader and tickling her, lol no pressure obvs lol

Ahhhh thank you so so much for the request,lovely!! I really enjoyed writing this one so I hope you like it! Soft boy Bakugou has my whole heart! I’m very slowly making my way through my request inbox, but feel free to send me more prompts to get the creative juices flowin!

Bakugou Katsuki was never one to show affection so openly like his other classmates would with their significant others. He was a reserved person, and the idea of PDA had always embarrassed him. So when the two of you had started dating, you were very aware of how he reacted to being touched, and respected him enough to never poke or prod in public. What took you by surprise though, was how different he was in your private company. The once prickly and standoffish boy couldn’t keep his hands off of you. At first it was jarring, his warm arms around you feeling so foreign and new, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. Sometimes you even found yourself teasing the poor touch deprived boy to see how much he needed your body against his. It was cruel, sure, but also incredibly validating to have Bakugou huff and puff until you paid attention to him. Today was one of those days.

Bakugou made his way to your dorm room after class as he did everyday, his textbooks from class slung over his shoulder in his book bag, fully intent to study and spend some quality time with you. Just being in your presence always had a calming effect on the explosive boy, so he found himself drawn to you every chance he got. He knocked once on your door before letting himself in, tossing his bag to the floor and locking his crimson eyes onto your form. You were already sitting at your desk, head buried in your book and head nestled in the palm of your hand. You made no movement in his direction, instead keeping your eyes glued to the pages before you.

“Hey, Suki.” You smiled softly at his presence, earning a grunt in return. He threw himself onto your bed, looking over at you longingly but still said nothing as he pulled out his own papers and got to work. The two of you sat in silence for a bit, a smirk ever present on your face. You could feel the boy's frustration radiating off his body and knew that it would only be a matter of time before he got sick of the lack of contact. Bakugou cleared his throat and you lifted your head ever so slightly.

“You okay? You need some water or something?” You teased, finally turning to look at him over your shoulder. He was looking at you with furrowed brows, a light flush spread across his cheeks.

“why the fuck are you still sitting over there?” He asked, trying his best not to sound desperate, but a little seeped through. You could’ve melted on the spot from his tone.

“I’m doing my work.” You stated plainly, turning your back to him once more to hide your smile. You could hear him growl at your response.

“Yeah no shit dumbass, but why are you doing it over there? You don’t want to spend time with me or somethin?” He tried his best to look anywhere but you, feeling the embarrassment overtake him. You could hear the distress in his voice and you couldn’t help but let out the laugh you’ve been stifling. He was so needy and you loved it. You put down your pen on the desk and turned completely in your chair, finally facing your red faced boyfriend.

“the fuck you laughing at?” He looked confused, trying to flesh out the meaning of your behavior.

“Aw what’s the matter, Katsuki? Does someone need attention?” You teased again, your head cocked to the side toyingly. You saw his demeanor change immediately. The once confused expression was replaced with a devious grin as realization hit him like a ton of bricks. You were fucking with him.

“Oh, you little shit!” Bakugou jumped off of his place on the bed and rushed at you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from the chair roughly. You couldn’t stop the loud scream that escaped your mouth, echoing throughout the room and cascading down the hallway of the dorms.

“Tryin to mess with me, huh?” He snickered into your ear, holding you against his body tightly as you tried to fight against his hold. Laughter bubbled out of your throat as Bakugou picked you up with ease, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way back to his previous spot in the room. Despite your kicking and playful fighting, Bakugou’s grip on you barely wavered. He slammed your body down onto the bed and climbed on top of you, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Well now I’m gonna make you pay for that.” His voice was sinister, dangerous, and you had no doubt that he meant business. Panic washed over you, and your fighting against the blondes grip got more frantic.

“No no no!” You laughed nervously, the sound mimicking that of a person in immediate danger, a scream of terror, but you were smiling and so was your boyfriend.

“Too late, you made me mad and now you’ve got to pay for it.” He let his hands live on your hips for a second, relishing in the feeling of your presence, before digging his calloused fingers into the sides of your body. Bakugou’s tickles were vicious, but there was still a certain softness to his hands. He let them roam your body, feeling every curve and smooth expanse of skin. His laugh cascaded around you like snow flurries, beautiful but bitting. To everyone but you, the sound was devious, Filled with malicious intent, but you knew better. So you laughed too. You laughed so hard that you could barely breathe.

“S-stop! Stop please, it hurts!” You felt your lungs burning, your chest tightening uncomfortably as Bakugou’s tickles only got more intense. You let out another scream, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you tried to fight off the strong blonde boy on top of you. It was no use though, he easily overpowered you in your current state. You thought about using your quirk to get him off of you, but honestly you didn’t really want him to stop. You loved feeling his hands wander your body, feeling his hot breath against the crook of your neck. It was intoxicating.

“In your dreams, y/n! You’re fucking dead!” You screamed once again, this time much louder, cowering from the anticipation of his punishment, but it never came. Instead you heard your door swing open, hitting the wall with some force. Both of you jumped at the sudden noise, and the sudden appearance of some familiar faces standing on high alert in your doorway. Bakugou made no motion to move from on top of you, instead shooting a dangerous glare towards the four idiots that had just made their appearance, their voices ringing in his ears like gunfire.

“Y/n?? Are you okay?” Mina’s voice echoed throughout the room immediately

“We heard screaming! Is everyone alright?” Kirishima spoke up next, his voice laced with obvious concern. The four figures froze in the doorway as they took in the actuality of the scene, a blush fighting its way fervently up Bakugou’s neck. Kaminari and Sero attempted to stifle their laughter, but to no avail.

“Oh ho ho, shit!” Looks like we had the wrong idea!” Kaminari snickered, bumping Sero in the side with his elbow.

“Damn, you two sure do have a weird way of gettin it on!” Sero chuckled, causing Kaminari to laugh even harder.

“Come on man, don’t kink shame them!” Kaminari’s stupid voice had Bakugou seething with rage.

“DON'T YOU FUCKERS KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?” Bakugou’s voice bellowed throughout the room, causing you to wince just from sheer proximity. Your face was a light shade of pink from being found in a compromising position, but Bakugou’s was fire engine red. Kirishima shifted awkwardly in his spot, bumping Kaminari hard in an attempt to get him to stop laughing.

“We’re sorry, Bro! It just...sounded like Y/n needed help! that’s all! We were all chilling in Mina’s room down the hall and heard her screaming!” Kirishima pleaded apologetically, clearly shaken that he had overstepped in such a personal way for the angry blonde. The last thing he ever wanted to do was make his best friend angry or uncomfortable.

“JUST GET OUT BEFORE I KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!” Bakugou yelled again, this time effectively stifling the laughter coming from Kaminari and Sero. Mina let out a soft giggle, ushering the terrified boys out of the room in one swift motion, feigning confidence to hide her own fear of being blown to bits.

“Alright guys, nothin’ to see here! I think we should give these two love birds their privacy.” You could feel Bakugou growl softly at her words, causing you to chuckle into your hand. Mina gave you a wink and a flirty little wave as she closed the door behind her, leaving you and Bakugou alone once more. Bakugou quickly took a pillow from your bed and chucked it at the door as it closed as hard as he could, making contact with a loud thud and earning a screech of terror from the other side of the door.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before laughter cascaded from your lips. Bakugou looked back at you with wild eyes, clearly confused by the sudden noise of happiness.

“The fuck are you laughing about now?” You shook your head and wiped your eyes before looking back at him, a smile ever present on your face.

“It’s just...of course they had to barge in like that! They never cease to amaze me. ” You let your smile fade slightly as your hand reached out to caress his cheek. He hesitated for a second before allowing his form to melt into your touch.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki. Are you okay? I know you don’t like letting people see you like that. ” Your soft voice enveloped him, causing him to nod ever so slightly into your hand.

“M’fine. Those dumbasses just get under my fucking skin.” You let out a soft laugh, nodding with him.

“I mean, at least we know they’d come save me if I was ever being murdered.” Bakugou let an exhale of breath from his nose, the corners of his lips upturning ever so slightly.

“I’d get there first.” His confident tone was masked with warmth, a tone you recognized all too well. It was the same tone he talked in when he talked about your future together. It was filled with love. You rolled your eyes, but you still let the smile rest on your lips. You pulled Bakugou down next to you, keeping your eyes locked onto his crimson ones.

“ I know you would.” You whispered before bringing your lips to meet his in a loving kiss. It was short-lived contact, but still sent a shiver up Bakugou’s spine. He never expected to fall in love, never once imagined he’d let himself be so vulnerable in front of another human, but there was something about you that broke him down. Every single wall he had made that he believed to be impenetrable, you demolished with a single kind and understanding smile. And while Bakugou never imagined himself falling in love, he had unequivocally and irrevocably, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He pulled you in close to his chest, letting you rest your head there as he let himself savour the gentle sounds of your breath. He ran his hands through your hair gently as he felt you speak up once more, the words escaping your mouth causing a surge of pride to rush through the blonde boy's body.

“you’re my hero, after all.”

[demonsandmischief]

I Know You're Hurting

Ghost Adventures - A Zak Bagans Imagine

Zak Bagans x (Shy!) Female Reader, 1100 words

- I Know You're Hurting -

Imagine you're Zak's girlfriend and you have the urge to comfort him when he is rewatching a difficult episode.

A/N I was definitely not going to write another Zak Imagine this soon, but I watched the Screaming Room episode on the final chapter of Washoe Club and this has been in my head rent free since then. Someone needed to comfort them. 🥺

-----

You had been dating Zak Bagans for almost a month now. Last night was the first time you had spent the night at his house, ultimately forcing you to meet his really good friends this afternoon.

You had been avoiding it for as long as possible. You were afraid of being judged, because in your head you were not Zak's type, or anything special for that matter. Your boyfriend was good at erasing your doubts, but their effects still lingered.

You could hear Zak's booming voice downstairs from where you had woken up in his bed from a nap. You dreaded going down there, but that's where Zak was and he was your safety net.

You freshened up and straightened your clothes, already knowing your nerves would cause you to fidget, so you shrugged on your boyfriend's black hoodie. It was long on you, but it successfully hid your hands from view. His scent alone soothed your anxious thoughts.

"There's someone here that I'd like you guys to meet," Zak told his three best friends - Aaron, Billy and Jay.

"What does that mean, Zak?" Jay asked confused. Did he get another dog? There's no way he would betray Gracie like that.

"I've been dating a girl for almost a month. We've been taking it really slow and steady. She's been really hesitant to meet you guys, but I convinced her today."

"A month?" Aaron exclaimed.

At the same time Billy asked, "Why hesitant?"

Zak knew his friends were shocked at the news. He tended to deal with some of his problems on his own, but this was not something he normally would keep from the people he cared about deeply.

"She's very quiet and shy. She was worried about what you guys would think of her," Zak said honestly. "She also doesn't think she's my type, whatever that means." He couldn't help but smile at the thought of you. You were something special for sure.

At that moment, you walked into the kitchen. Your cheeks immediately filled with heat as four pairs of eyes glanced your way.

Zak was quick to gather you to his side and you were able to relax just a bit.

"Guys, this is Y/N."

"Hi," you greeted meekly, hesitantly peeking up at the three tall men that stood around the kitchen island.

"And that's Jay, Billy, and Aaron," Zak finished.

"She doesn't know who we are?" Billy asked curiously.

"She knows what I've told her," Zak replied, and you felt awkward having them talk about you while you were standing there with them.

Aaron gave his familiar chuckle, "which means she's not a Ghost Adventures fan."

You could tell the group wanted to know more, but Zak ushered them towards the theater. He kissed you gently when the room was clear.

"You can come get me if you need me. I know you don't like the cameras, but I can always cut you out later. I don't want you to hesitate, baby. It shouldn't take more than an hour," he said, pulling you into his warm chest. He rubbed your back soothingly, pressing his lips to your head.

"I'll probably just hang with Gracie outside and then make us some dinner before I have to go home," you said, voice muffled from where you were pressed to his chest. You could stay in his arms forever.

"Whatever you want to do. I'll see you later." Zak pulled away before disappearing in the direction of the theater.

"Y/N isn't into the paranormal?" Jay inquired curiously from his seat on the far left.

"Not when we first met. She's learned a lot now, obviously," Zak said.

"You two are quite opposite," Aaron noted, already tossing popcorn in his mouth.

The conversation changed once the cameras were on and Zak made his dramatic entrance as he did every episode of Screaming Room.

You tossed the tennis ball the length of Zak's yard, watching Gracie dash after it before running back. She dropped the soggy mess at your feet, wagging her tail eagerly.

Your mind was filled with Zak. It was true that you never watched Ghost Adventures. It was too heavy for you to watch. You liked to watch shows that you could switch on and not have to think about.

That didn't mean you didn't know who Zak Bagans was. You always thought he was cute when he appeared in the media occasionally.

You took a seat as Gracie abandoned the ball to sniff the perimeter. A strange feeling enveloped you.

It was intense sorrow, but it didn't feel like yours. You were very much happy. How could you possibly be feeling another person's emotions?

As strange as the thought was, you immediately knew the sadness came from your boyfriend. You didn't know how you knew, but you trusted your gut.

You only paused at the theater doors briefly. You pulled the hood of the sweatshirt over your head and took a deep breath. Nevermind the fear of being in front of a camera, Zak was hurting.

His attention was on you as soon as you walked into the lit room. Your eyes zeroed in on his damp cheeks, and you walked over to climb in his lap.

Zak physically relaxed at your presence. You gently wiped his tears with your thumbs, before wrapping your hands under his arms and around his back. You laid your face in his shoulder.

"I needed to make sure you were okay," you mumbled.

"I am now," he whispered back, resting his cheek on yours and giving a shuddering breath that only happens after a good cry.

Your cheeks heated once more as you felt the eyes of the others. Being with Zak was like being in a different world. He made you forget everything but the moment you were in.

"Are you going to stay?" he asked.

You pressed your lips to his neck and he shivered in response. You couldn't help the quiet laugh at the effect you had on him

"Definitely not, but you can call me if you need me," you replied.

You sat up and Zak gave you a sweet kiss. You waved to the others before disappearing out of the room.

"How did she know?" Aaron asked in a quiet whisper.

Zak honestly wasn't sure how you knew he was upset, but he was grateful for your comfort. You were an incredible girl. You didn't even have to know the situation because all you wanted to do was be there. Zak didn't know how he had gotten so lucky. He was quickly falling in love with you.

----

A/N: Hi again. Honestly I love this one too. I might make it into a series. If you all have requests of any kind don't hesitate to ask. I'm always looking to get my creative juices flowing. :)

[rosy-cheekx]

Alone Again, Naturally

Three times Martin should have called for help.

(I twisted my ankle on Sunday and was bummed bc I missed my partner so…this happened…oops.)

-

1.

Martin’s phone was missing, though he was pretty sure he knew where it was. That thing, that wormy, writhing mass of a woman had it. Destroyed it. His only chance of rescue from this nightmare. Replaying the image of dropping the phone, abandoning it as he ran, would do him no good. His coworkers hadn’t noticed he was missing, or if they had noticed, they hadn’t stopped by. And they shouldn't, of course, it would only put them in danger. But still, it stung a bit, to know that he’d been gone for what, three days now? and no one cared.

He could become a statement from this, Martin realized, his death narrated in Jon’s smooth, clipped voice, and then they would finally learn what happened to that large, oafish researcher who was transferred to the archives with them and disappeared overnight.

Martin sighed through his nose noisily, as if he could expel the dark thoughts with the sound. “Christ, Blackwood. Getting awful morbid there.” Talking to himself had become a staple of his isolation. For one, it drowned out the ever-present knocking on the door and the squelching rustle of the worms. He honestly wasn’t sure whether the sounds were still real or if they had become such a constant that his brain just filled them in anyways.

His voice was the only other sound available to him with his computer not working and his phone gone. His clock radio had played static on every channel, and he had been grateful for the white noise at first. But the longer Martin left the radio on, the sound began to morph from the hissing of dead air to a choir, indecipherable and haunting. There were no words and yet he could understand the message: come home to us. We need you, we miss you, let us show you how much we love you. With us, you’ll never feel lonely again, we promise. Martin had come to, hand on the doorknob to his flat, radio in hand. After that, he had removed all the batteries from anything that could make noise. Since then, he could only trust his own voice; everything else was a trap.

The can opener, unfortunately, had been electric too. He had been so proud of his purchase, a real attempt at adult cooking. (He never seemed to use the manual ones and could never get the grip right.) With the power out, assumedly caused by Prentiss, he had to get creative when it came to “making dinner.” For Martin, this meant sawing open a tin can with a serrated knife, eating it with a fork, and praying no metal shavings were lurking in each mouthful. Tonight’s feast: another can of tinned green beans and the last can of pineapple. He didn’t even like green beans, why had he ever bought these?

Martin gritted himself against the awful sound of metal on metal as he cut into a tin of beans, hissing sharply through his teeth and letting his mind wander. Maybe he could strain the beans? Let them dry? It would probably be better than the wet and soggy mush he was bound to find. Maybe he could put some crackers on them for a crunch? Pretend it’s a bad soup? As he was finishing his indelicate surgery, Martin tipped the can into the sink a little, hoping to strain the bean juice and improve the meal even a little. As he removed the last of the lid, he saw it.

There, in the sink, wiggling its way out of the drain. Another worm. Martin shrieked and jumped back, dropping the can in the sink with a clatter. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and began to stuff them down the sink, plugging up the drain as best he could. For extra measure, he plugged the faucet as well, suddenly terrified of accidentally swallowing one in a glass of water. Once the adrenaline rush had passed, Martin felt it: a stinging in his palm. They must have jumped at him, must have bitten him. It would be over soon, he knew it. He would be like Prentiss, a mass of tiny bodies. He braced himself to feel something, but nothing changed. Martin frowned, chewing on his lip in confusion, and hazarded a glance down to his hand. There was no worm in his palm, nothing wriggling and biting deep into his muscle, just a slice along the flesh of his thumb, dripping blood from where he must have cut himself on the tin can.

Sheepishly, Martin rolled his eyes at his defeatism. Did it hurt like hell? Yes. But he wasn’t going to become a worm monster. Not today. Grabbing a few more sheets of paper towel, Martin hissed in pain as he pressed them to his wound, making his way shakily to the paltry first-aid kit he kept in his bathroom. He was clumsy in his wound care, only able to use one hand to open the kit and the individually wrapped plasters, while the other pooled blood in his palm uselessly. The antiseptic had stung like hell and the plaster was off-center, but eventually, the job was done. Martin had managed.

“See?” He asked himself softly. “All better. We didn’t want the green beans anyways.” Martin was alone, but he would be fine. He could take care of himself.

——

2.

Martin’s phone had become less and less useful since his time in the Archives. Sasha and Tim had been distant in the end, their group texts dwindling into occasional messages regarding whether not someone had contacted so-and-so regarding their statement. He and Jon had called and texted quite a bit, before the Unknowing, when Jon had been in China, America, and wherever else Gertrude’s breadcrumbs had led him. But since the explosion, their messages lay at a standstill, a “good luck! come home safe :)” still waiting to be sent to “Jonathan Sims--Boss.” He used to call his mother every week, but the outgoing calls had dwindled as she returned less and less of them, until he received an apologetic voicemail from Steady Waters Care Home a few months ago.

Now, the only messages he received were his work emails and an occasional text from Peter with a request or two regarding The Magnus Institute. Not even spam calls reached him anymore. That was all fine by Martin. He was busy running the institute; he didn’t have time for social calls, even if he wanted any, which he didn’t. Martin had taken to leaving his phone in his work office, knowing he wouldn’t need it outside the building anyways. It was becoming something like a desktop mouse to him in its versatility.

It was a Thursday, and it was late--Martin’s watch read 11:09. Thursdays were Martin’s days to deliver paperwork to the archives. He could only ever do it at night when he was sure Jon had either gone home (or was asleep at his desk at the very least). Peter Lukas had been working Martin to the bone with all the paperwork he would hand off with a wave of his hand and an “I’ll be back next week Martin. Please don’t call me,” and this week’s stack of statement requests, financial approvals, and quarterly reviews would fall to Martin instead. Who knew running a front for feeding an all-seeing eldritch deity would require so many business expenses?

Martin. Martin knew. He had reviewed and approved each and every one.

It was the week after Halloween, so the list of those eager to give a statement was longer than usual. Hellweek, Tim used to call it, a grin on his face as Jon would frown and shake his head. The stack of folders Martin carried in his arms eclipsed his eyesight as he carefully made his way down the hall, the Lonely silencing his footsteps and the shuffle of his clothing. The elevator was broken this week, thanks to a visit from one of the Fairchilds. Martin clumsily opened the door to the stairwell, turning to the side slightly to see the steps that descended into the basement he knew so well. Cautiously, he began his way down the stairs, arms clutching the stack of paperwork and binders tight to his chest. The basement was eerily silent; even Martin’s muted steps echoed in his ears.

The door to the Archives creaked slightly, and Martin realized his mistake: he hadn’t propped the door. The thin streak of light that painted his way down the steps thinned and faded in time with the slow squeak of the door. The click of the latch sealed his fate: Martin was in the dark. He didn’t mind the dark, in principle, though his new awareness of the Fears heightened his concern considerably. He stepped down slowly, feeling for the steps with his foot as he went.

Halfway down the stairs, Martin heard a soft flutter as a few papers shifted in his stack. He hoisted the pile and tried to readjust it as he stepped once more. The combination of the changes in the balance of the papers and his weight combined were too much for his brain to process at once and he overcompensated on his step, putting his weight down a little too early. Martin felt the rush of adrenaline as he tried to catch himself, hands clutching uselessly at the paperwork in his hands as if it could save him and he felt himself tumble to the ground. Falling sideways, he hit his shoulder hard on the steps, momentum carrying him down the remaining steps to the floor. The loose papers not held in binders and folders scattered in what Martin was sure was every direction.

Martin was frozen on the floor, pain pulsing through his shoulder. He sat up tentatively, patting himself down as he set down what remained of his stack of folders. He wasn’t bleeding, but his ears were ringing and his arm hurt like hell. Listening carefully for the sound of anyone reacting to his presence, he rotated his shoulders carefully, wincing as throbbing radiated up his arm. He must have dislocated it. Patting his legs down, Martin found his phone in his pocket. He must have forgotten to put it on the charger. He...he could call someone, should call someone. His shoulder was dislocated.

He could call Jon.

He pulled up his text messages, the cursor blinking back at him, blinding in the dark. Jon was surely awake, he knew that man’s sleep schedule was worse than his.

good luck! come home safe :)

safe :)

safe.

“Shit.”

He couldn’t call Jon. It would undo everything he and Peter were trying to build up. It was all for Jon anyways, to keep him safe, to keep them all safe. No. He had to do this alone. It was best that way.

Martin sat himself up carefully. He had taken enough first aid courses (rather, he had watched them for free on the internet) to know how to set it back in place and he knew it would not be pleasant. He drew his right knee up, and clumsily unknotted his tie, using it to secure his arm to his knee. Martin closed his eyes tight and leaned away from his knee, rotating his shoulder as he stretched away, wincing in anticipation until he felt the wet pop of his arm slotting back into place. Sparks shot through his vision, his only grounding point in the dark, and he huffed out a cross between a moan and a curse.

He carefully made a fist with his re-set hand, tensing the muscles in his arm. Determining it to be good enough, Martin felt his way to his feet and grabbed the wall to steady himself. He knew there was a light switch somewhere--ah.

The light clicked on and he winced at the sudden change, letting his eyes adjust behind the safety of his lashes. When he opened his eyes again, he surveyed the mess of his paperwork, gathering it methodically. It took him another half hour, back against Tim’s old desk, to resort his files before setting them in the file basket he had installed on the door to the Archivist’s office, the rest going on the desk of Jon himself. He would see them all in the morning. At least Jon was home, resting.

When Martin emerged from the Archives, he glanced down at his watch, wondering if it was too late to hail a cab. He frowned at his watch; the face was cracked, the hands stuck at 11:11. He must have cracked it in his fall. “Make a wish,” Martin mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes. He was pretty sure his wishes were out of reach, hopeless. As long as he would be safe after all this, Martin could sacrifice a few wishes.

——

3.

Martin was on a walk. He had been doing that a lot, since his and Jon’s escape to Scotland. There was something comforting about the long stretches of rolling hills and rocky cliffsides, utterly devoid of menacing fear entities or bosses hellbent on destroying the world. Jon would come with him sometimes, especially in the early days when leaving each other’s presence was challenging to say the least, but Martin sometimes just needed the space. He loved Jon, he knew he did, and Jon did too, but sometimes the presence of another would build up and stifle him, an unbearable heat radiating off of Jon until Martin had to just go for a bit.

It was raining today, a bassy rhythm beating down on Martin’s umbrella as he walked a familiar cliffside path. He could see a rocky beach below him, waves made of roiling ink, more black than blue. The rain was comforting to him, distinguishing this ocean spread before him from the ocean of the Lonely and drowning out any thoughts that passed through Martin’s head. He stepped around a patch especially muddy gravel, glancing down and seeing a ghost of a reflection staring back at him.

Martin had been in a cold place today, withdrawn from the rest of the world. He had felt the fog blossoming over his mind and had known he needed to go for a bit, center himself, remind himself he was real. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither would his sense of self again, though he was making progress. Jon understood that sentiment, perhaps better than anyone else in the world, and had kissed him softly at the doorway, squeezing his hand in an unspoken promise. Martin tensed his own hand in a fist, still feeling the heat of Jon’s calloused palm under his, reveling in the idea that someone loved him the way Jon did, that someone loved him the way Jon did and that Martin loved Jon back. Martin felt his body solidifying under the rain, felt the wind buffet against him rather than pass through him.

Martin was thinking about going home when it happened.

Home, or Daisy’s safehouse, was a humble affair: reinforced windows, minimalist, a few guns hidden in the floorboards, lots of fresh fruits and vegetables from the village down the hill. It had been easy to reassign this place in Martin’s mind as home. He hadn’t felt at home since...well, definitely not since Prentiss. Maybe not before either.

The rain was letting up, and the brolly was forgotten in favor of letting the rain drop down into his hair, sopping his curls and plastering them to his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content to be in the rain. Things weren’t good, but they were the best they’d been in a while.

The next thing Martin knew he was on the ground, ankle twisted and both shins scraped, blood and dirt mingling on his legs. He tried to stand up and cried out as his ankle immediately gave way, the hope of putting weight on it dashed on the rocks of the beach far below him.

Martin Blackwood crawled to a tree, leaning his back against it, not minding the dirt that was sure to collect on his back and rump. He winced and massaged his ankle, already feeling it begin to swell under his fingertips. With his free hand, a silver scar shining between his forefinger and thumb, he reached for his phone from his jacket pocket, hands shaking as he clumsily dialed the only number in his list of favorites.

“Martin?” Jon’s voice was warm through the tinny speakers. “I hope you’re well.” It was carefully not a question, though Martin caught the notes of careful concern.

“Tch-” Martin sucked air through his teeth. “I fell, Jon. I twisted my ankle, I think? Can’t-ah-can’t walk.”

“Oh. Martin, dear,” Jon’s voice was softer, and Martin could practically see his love’s fingers, itching to do, to fix. “Do you need me to—I can come get you, if you like. I haven’t…I haven't looked. But I can, if you want me to.”

Martin smiled despite himself, hearing Jon’s cautious phrasing. “Please, yes. I’m pretty sure I’m near a picnic park, if you want to drive there and get me? Not sure this is a drivable trail.”

“Did you pass anyone?”

“…no?”

A pause. Martin heard static crackling through the phone. “No one will be there. I Know where you are, Martin. I’ll be there soon.”

Ten minutes and enough ice packs to ease the pain of a full rugby team later, Martin was laying in the back of Jon’s small car, heat blasting on him to dry his now-soaked clothing. There were perks to having an all-knowing partner, it turned out.

Later that evening, Martin was tucked into the couch, his head pleasantly nestled in cushions and his feet in Jon’s lap, who was carefully massaging his feet and ankles, probing for any long-term injuries with his Eyes. A mug of tea grasped between his hands, Martin sighed softly and felt warmth flood his face. He hadn’t been alone this time. He wouldn’t be alone ever again.

[madasthesea]

I’ve sort of accepted that all those Irondad WIPs I have are never going to get finished, not only because Marvel has pretty effectively killed my interest in the MCU, but also because I haven’t felt like writing in over a year now (not cause anything’s wrong, I just haven’t really wanted to). 

HOWEVER. There’s a fic that I was going to write about Venom Peter and while the story as a whole is definitely not even close to presentable, there’s a scene I really, really love and still want to share with people even though it has little to no context. It’s under the cut if you’re interested :)

(A bit of backstory for anyone who wants a bit of context. This whole story was supposed to be based on season 3B of Teen Wolf, with Nogitsune Stiles, for anyone that watched the show. Basically Stiles is possessed by an evil trickster spirit, but it takes a little while for it to take over and only comes out in bursts. It gets to the point that the audience, and the characters in the show, never really know if it’s Stiles or the Nogitsune pretending to be Stiles. 

There’s a scene where Scott, Stiles’ best friend and a werewolf, is stabbed through the stomach with a sword. They get away from the bad guys and Stiles soothes Scott like he’s going to take out the sword so Scott can heal with his magical abilities. He puts a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder, grabs the sword handle, then twists it in deeper instead of pulling it out. This scene is based on that.)

Peter looked down at Tony’s arm, the skin already swollen and red.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

It did, but Tony had had worse and telling Peter that it hurt would just make him feel even guiltier than he probably already did.

“Not much,” he said with a small smile, trying to catch his eye. But Peter was still looking down at the injury.

Peter stepped closer, his head tilting to one side. “That’s too bad.”

Tony’s head jerked up, teeth snapping together in surprise. Faster than Tony could blink, Peter’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm, his grip tight enough to bruise. Looking Tony dead in the eye, he began twisting it, sending white hot agony racing up Tony’s arm as his elbow popped out of place, the broken bones grating.

“How about now?”

Peter’s eyes were alight with curiosity, a childish sort of fascination. He tilted his head to one side as he watched Tony’s face contort in pain. He looked like Tony had just shown him something new in the lab, like they were tinkering with the Iron Man suit.

Tony swayed and Peter put his other hand on Tony’s waist, supporting him.

“Whoa, I’ve got you,” he murmured in that soft tone he used with Morgan, with May, with Tony when they were talking late at night. Tony was going to throw up.

He swallowed convulsively and he tried to even his breathing.

Peter smiled. Then wrenched Tony’s arm again. A hoarse scream clawed up his throat and even that hurt. His eyes watered uncontrollably from the pain.

Looking like a scientist observing a mouse in its cage, Peter reached up and wiped one of his tears away with his thumb, fingers brushing almost tenderly against Tony’s jaw.

Then he raised his thumb to his mouth and licked the tear away. Tony’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

Peter made a sound of appreciation. “You’re afraid. But not for yourself, right?”

Tony eyed the creature in front of him, the one that had taken his kid and used him to wreak havoc and sow destruction in the lives of everyone who knew him. The one that had no intention of letting Peter come out on the other side of this alive and whole. No, he was not afraid for himself.

Peter stepped away, letting Tony stagger backward until he hit the counter, pain still radiating throughout his body.

“Did you know,” Peter said, casually circling to the other side of the island, looking through cupboards as if searching for a snack after school, “that he can smell emotions? Only if they’re particularly strong or he’s really tuned into the person. Like you. That’s how he finds people to help sometimes, he smells their fear. Amazing, isn’t it?”

Peter lingered near the knife block for a long moment, thin fingers dancing over the handles in a reverent manner that made Tony’s stomach clench in anticipatory fear. Then he moved on, peered into the fridge.

“I didn’t know that, when I chose him. It was merely providence.” Peter pulled a carton of orange juice out of the fridge, squinting at the ingredients. After a moment, he wrinkled his nose and dropped it on the floor. Tony heard liquid spatter over the wood and huffed.

“My kind, we are... hungry. Starving. All the time. A bit—” he shot a grin over his shoulder at Tony “—like a teenage boy.”

“If all you needed was a burger run, you could have just said so,” Tony snapped, watching as Peter sniffed the jar of mayonnaise. “So, what, I get a few thousand calories in you and you’re on your way?”

Peter laughed; a familiar snort of amused teenage sass that made Tony’s teeth hurt with how almost-right it sounded. “Not quite,” he murmured. “Some of my kin are satisfied with mere food,” he said with disgust and a cup of yogurt was also carelessly tossed to the ground. “But I require something a little more filling.”

“If you say human flesh I’m gonna spontaneously combust,” Tony warned, his mouth dry.

His injured arm bumped the counter as he shifted his weight and his world briefly whited out. When he opened his eyes again, panting, Peter was suddenly right next to him, eyes fixed on Tony, inhaling deeply. He looked half mad, desperate. Hungry.

“All that feeling and you let it go to waste.” Peter leaned even closer.

“Ok, seriously, back off.” Tony retreated until his heels hit the stairs. He clenched the railing with his good hand.

Peter smiled, a sharp glinting thing and for a moment Tony felt all his animal instincts kick in, half of his brain screaming run and the other half yelling save Peter save him savehimsavehimsavehim. But Peter just turned, meandering toward the sink.

“I’m not a vampire, I’m not going to drink your blood,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “I eat what you feel. The stronger the emotion, the better.”

He paused in front of the pictures on the shelf.

“Like the anger of a child whose father never loved him,” he murmured, picking up Howard’s picture. Tony grit his teeth as the frame was flicked over Peter’s shoulder, shattering into pieces on the floor. The creature controlling Peter picked up the other frame, the image of Tony and Peter together. The photo that had saved the galaxy.

“Or the grief of a father whose love for his son was stronger than the laws of the universe.” He turned back to Tony.

Tony jumped as the frame was brought crashing down against the marble counter, splintering the wood and tearing the picture as shards of glass exploded outward. A sliver caught Peter on the cheek, cutting him.

It was instinct to reach out to him, to attempt to calm and comfort and protect. Tony didn’t stop himself fast enough.

Peter’s smile suddenly looked much less like Peter, much more like an alien wearing his skin. His laugh echoed off the kitchen walls.

“Imagine your grief when I kill him in front of you. Imagine what it will taste like.”

Goosebumps erupted over Tony’s skin, his heart tripping in fear at the very thought. The memory of ash on his hands, of Peter begging filled his mind and he choked on his next breath. Peter’s grin widened, something feral and foreign.

“Why,” Tony gasped, “Why would you kill him? Don’t you need him?”

“For now,” Peter agreed, casually stepping over the mess on the floor, closer to Tony. “But I’m afraid he’s wearing a bit thin. I’ve almost used him all up.”

Tony’s knees went weak.

“He’s almost too exhausted to fight me, now. Still won’t shut up, though,” he hissed, closing his eyes for a second as if hearing a very loud, unpleasant noise.

“What?” Tony asked, his head spinning. He sat down heavily on the stair behind him. Peter tilted his head, humming.

“You should hear how much he’s screaming.”

“He’s—” Forget throwing up, Tony was going to pass out. “—he’s screaming?”

Peter came closer, a predator stalking his prey. Tony knew he should pull himself together, knew that the thing enjoyed his distress, his pain, but he couldn’t fight the image of Peter, locked inside his own mind, screaming at the parasite controlling him.

“Oh, yes,” Peter murmured, his voice low. “’Not him, please,’ he’s saying. ‘Don’t hurt him, don’t you dare.’ He likes to threaten me. Not very intimidating, but I do admire his creativity.”

“Stop,” Tony whispered.

Peter reached a hand out and seized Tony’s chin, gripping with bruising fingers. Tony stared at him, hatred and love in every cell of his being. He could never hate Peter. He could never forget the way Peter’s face looked as an alien stared down at him, intent on nothing but destroying everything he loved.

“’Please, I’ll do anything,’” the creature continued to narrate. “’I’ll stop fighting. I’ll stop. Don’t kill him.’”

“Peter, no!”

The thing went silent, as if listening to something Tony couldn’t hear. Then he straightened, smiling down at Tony.

“What’s he saying?” Tony asked. “Peter?”

Peter considered him for a moment, glanced around at the cabin around him. “I think we’re done here.”

“What? No,” Tony argued. Peter ignored him, turning and disappearing out the door in the blink of an eye. Mind still trying to catch up, Tony rushed to the door, looking out at the trees and lake. There was no sign of him.

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Birthday Surprise (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* If you’re doing request I had this idea because my birthday is literally a few days before jakes. What if the reader is dating colby and he and Tara teamed up to do a joint party for reader and jake 🥺 and like there could be a video message thing like how sam and Tara did it for colby and then how she did it for jakes

Written: 2020

Word Count: 1,730

Warnings: swearing, minor fluff

Masterlist

I let the sun hit my masked face. Not to sound too dramatic, but I forgot how it felt to have the sun on my face and be outside of the house. To have my hair blown by the wind, with whatever little windy moments there are in Los Angeles. I missed this, and if this the only thing I get for my birthday, I’ll be okay with that. Colby already has done more than enough for me. Maybe he feels bad that we got to celebrate his birthday the traditional way before the world shut down. But he woke me up early this morning to head to the beach to watch the sunrise and have breakfast. Now we’re in the Descanso Gardens, walking around and taking in the sights. I think he went out of his way to find things to do that wouldn’t be too crowded. I think he mentioned that we were going to get lunch here later.

“Look, babe, a deer!” Colby whispers excitedly.

I follow Colby’s finger to where a baby deer is trying to eat. I pull my phone out to take a picture. Colby’s been taking photos and videos all day. He’s probably clogging everything to kill two birds with one stone: he’ll have a video for Friday and a cute video for us to look back to.

“This is the best birthday ever. Thank you, Colbs.” I kiss Colby, through our masks, and continue our walk.

“Well, the birthday surprises aren’t done yet. I haven’t even given you your present yet. “

“You don’t have to give me anything else. Just being able to get out of the house for the day and do what we used to normally do, even just once, is enough. I think if I stayed inside the confines of our place I think I would have lost my shit.” I joke.

“Yeah, you’re my girlfriend and it’s your twenty-second birthday, I have to spoil you. You spoiled me for my birthday, it’s only fair. Even if we can’t do much right now. Now let me spoil you, damn it!” Colby tugs my arm to pull me deeper into the gardens.

****

“The chaos twins are back together,” Colby says when he sees Jake and Tara walking towards us. That’s our whole friend group's nickname for Jake and me.

We’re not literal twins, but we may as well be, we share the same birthday. Plus, whenever we’re together, we caused a whole lot of chaos. One time we played a game of pool volleyball so intensely that we broke a window and set the ball on fire. Needless to say, we’re no longer allowed to hang out together unsupervised.

“Happy birthday Jake, what did you do?” I ask as I hug Jake.

“Hey, happy birthday! We went to breakfast, and then lunch on the beach! What did you two do?” Jake patted my head and ruffled my hair.

“We went to the beach too! Except, we went this morning and watched the sunrise and ate breakfast. And then Colby took me to Descanso Gardens and we explored and had lunch there. And now we’re home for what I assume is the cake? Colby hasn’t told me a single thing about today. He just dragged me places.” I turn back to my boyfriend who is talking to Tara secretly.

“Tara has been dragging me places too! Something smells sus. It smells fishy.”

“Psh, and they call us the chaos twins. Look at them, plotting behind our backs. Keeping us separated for most of the day. They couldn’t handle the double birthday chaotic energy.”

“Are you two ready to go inside yet?” Colby says, clapping his hands like he’s a teacher ready trying to get our attention.

“This bitch…” I gasp. I watch my boyfriend in disbelief. The audacity he has to rush me like I was the one to make us stand outside.

Jake tugs me away from Colby and Tara because he could sense the amount of whoop-ass that I was about to unleash. He pulls me the front door. As Jake starts to open the door, I’m taken aback by the chorus of “surprise” that comes through the door. I step back out of fear and bump into Colby, who must have known that I would get scared and came behind me just in case.

“Happy birthday, Jake!” Someone says from inside.

“Where’s Y/N? I thought she was with you two.” Someone else says.

I poke my head in to see all of our friends standing in our house, waiting for a party. I know that our friend group is known for throwing surprise parties for our birthdays, but with the pandemic going on, I honestly just expected the roommates and maybe Kat, because she’s dating Sam, to be at the house. But this is better. Our group has taken quarantine seriously. Even with the partial lift, the only time we’ve gotten together was for working on stuff like the goof juice music videos and other stuff. We haven’t hung out in a group like this in a while. To see the whole group, minus Mike because things are still weird with him, Xepher, and Griffin, warms my heart.

“I’m right here, I was just… surprised.” I walk inside to see some people who I haven’t hung out with in a while. I spot Jake in the corner of my eye wearing a red feather boa and red party hat. Devyn walks towards me with a yellow boa and yellow hat. I put them on and start to greet everyone at the party. I stop for a second and Colby in the room and run to him.

“Thank you for this, I know you hate planning things.” I wrap my hands around him and bury my head in his chest.

“For you, I’d chase the sun. I’m just glad you’re having a good birthday. You’re having a good birthday, right?” Colby moves the party hat so he can rest his chin on my head. He wraps his arms around me, the camera in his hand slightly presses into my back.

“I’m having the best birthday. I love you, Colby.” I push my head up and give him a quick kiss.

“I love you too, Y/N. Now go enjoy your party. And please, can you and Jake not start a fire or something. We haven’t lived here for a year yet.” Colby smacks my butt to send me off.

Throughout the party, I noticed both Tara and Colby walking around and talking to people with their cameras. They’re both vlogging, the party, I guess. That might not be the best idea because of the pandemic, but maybe they know what they’re doing. Jake and I have both been yelled at if we got too close to them while they were filming.

Kevin started a game of beer pong. Jake and I teamed up and went against Kevin and Reggie. Everything was pretty chill until we started the game. Before, everyone was spread out of the house, but now, they’re watching Jake and I win. I throw the last ball perfectly into Kevin’s cup and high five Jake. I only win if I’m playing for fun, if it’s a competition and there is a prize, I fail.

“Everyone in the kitchen!” Colby yells. We make our way to the kitchen where Colby and Tara are standing with cakes. Tara is holding a bundt cake with vertical lines of white frosting and red “22” candles. Colby is holding a small chocolate cake with yellow “22” candles.

“Happy birthday to you…” Everyone starts singing as Jake and I get closer to our cakes. I stare more at Colby, who is smiling so hard that you can’t see his eyes. I like it when he smiles like that. He doesn’t do it often because he hates how he looks, but I love it.

“Make a wish, guys!” Tara says when the song ends.

I close my eyes and make three wishes. First, I wished for infinite days with Colby like we had today. Then I wished for the pandemic to be over so I could spend more time with my friends like before. And finally, I wished for more crinkly eyed Colby smiles. I open my eyes and blow out the candles.

“That was a long-ass wish!” Someone shouted.

“That’s because I wished for me and my homies!” Jake explained. Everyone cheered and started getting in line for cake. Jake and I cut our own pieces and wait off to the side for everyone else. I watch Colby grab a piece of cake and walk towards me.

“Hey, wanna go sit outside for a bit?” He asks. With my mouth full of cake, I nod and take his hand.

Colby takes us to the backyard and sits by the pool. Everyone is still inside, eating. I don’t think they realized that we left yet. I take off my shoes and put my feet into the water. The cool water feels soothing.

“Okay, I’m giving you your birthday present now. But, I don’t want you to freak out over one of them.” Colby says as he pulls something out of his pocket.

“I won’t, but I already told you that you don’t have to get me anything.” I set my cake aside and fully face Colby.

“Shut up about that already. I wanted to get you something so I did. Here,” Colby takes my hand and places two small boxes in it.

I open the first box and it’s one of those “my intent” bracelets, like his, but mine says “creative chaos” on it. In the other box is a skull pinky ring, also like his.

“Since you like stealing my jewelry while I’m wearing it, so I got you your own. Now we can match.” Colby says softly. He might be getting embarrassed by his mushiness. I quickly pull them out of the box and put them on.

“I love this. Thank you. This truly has been the best birthday. I love you, Colbs.” I kiss Colby on the cheek and place my head on his shoulder.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Colby gently grabs my chin and lifts my head up. He looks me in the eyes for a second and smiles, really smiles, and leans in.

[twiceinadream]

“Lose control.”

Requested: Yup

Request: could you please do a part two for the namo x sub!s/o please

a/u: Hey, guys! I know said I would be posting more often but the second I said that I had to write three essays in one week so I’ve been creatively spent to the point where I didn’t even want to look at words. So, please thank my 5 am urge to write smut. Love you guys!

Part: 1.) “No touching.”

Background: Picks off right where, “No touching.” ended.

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Momo’s breathing became ragged as she pulsed around the viabrator inside her, her eyes filled with tears as she struggled against the binds Nayeon had used to tie her hands behind her back. A sadistic smile on the elder girl’s face as she soaked in Momo’s tear filled eyes and high pitched whines before finally turning off the toy inside the Japanese girl, ending her endless cycle of pain and pleasure.

A relieved sigh left Momo’s lips as she slumped back into the bed, shifting slightly as she allowed Nayeon to untie her hands, “Now, what did we learn, Momoring?” Nayeon’s tone was expectant as she looked at the completely fucked out girl.

Strings of pathetic mewls erupted from Momo before she could finally think somewhat clearly, “D...don’t dis..disobey, Mm...mommy.”

Nayeon nodded her head as she cooed at Momo, “Good. Now that you’ve learned your lesson,” The Korean girl turned back to you, running a finger up your thigh as the coil in your stomach tightened, “I think it’s time for your reward now, Y/N-ah.” You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat as you eyed your Mistress carefully. Your eyes grew hungry as you watched Nayeon strip before you, her shirt was thrown over her head as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. Ridding herself of the material in one fluid motion as she dropped it beside the bed, a small wet patch on the front of the fabric was noticeable as you smiled internally.

‘She’s enjoying this just as much as we are.’ But your small revelation didn’t last long as a completely bare Nayeon kneeled before you. Even in her most vulnerable state the look in her eyes still instilled fear into you, as well as wetness in your panties. Steeling your fear as you looked back at her, fearless.

“I want you to ruin me Mommy.” As the words left your mouth Nayeon’s lips turned upwards into a smile, her eyes growing dark as she crawled towards you on the bed. All thoughts of Momo’s disobedience momentarily forgotten as the Japanese girl still laid breathless at the end of the bed, watching with rapt attention as you subconsciously began spreading your legs the closer Nayeon got to you.

But before she could pounce on you like a predator to prey, she paused, “Are you sure you want this?” You nodded rapidly, if the heat building in your stomach didn’t already mean something, you didn’t know what would.

“Of course I am Mommy.” At the confirmation Nayeon gave you a nod before placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Just remember you can always tell me to stop whenever you need. Okay?” You nodded again, and the hungry look came back into her eyes, “Okay.”

You had barely blinked when you suddenly felt the weight of her body on top of yours, her lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss as she nipped at your lower lip, asking for entrance. You opened for her almost instantly as you felt her tongue begin exploring your mouth, whimpers left your mouth as the intensity of the kiss made you rub your thighs together. Reminding you of just how turned on you were.

Nayeon’s hands began wandering along your body, fingertips dragging along your sides as she slowly pulled your shirt up, her thumbs rubbing at every new inch of exposed skin. Your shirt rode up just below your chest before she pulled away from the kiss, your breathing was ragged as she pulled your shirt over your head and threw it somewhere on the bedroom floor, a predatory smirk growing on Nayeon’s lips as she noticed that you weren’t wearing a bra. The heat of her gaze made you squirm under her as she leaned back down, her lips descending on your neck as she trailed kisses up and down the column of your neck before nipping at your pulse point. A needy groan left your throat as the action made you buck your hips towards your Mistress.

A light chuckle emitted from the girl above you as she began moving lower on your body, her lips moved to the top of your chest where her nipping and sucks turned into red and purple bruises that you were probably gonna regret in the morning as you got dressed for work, but that wasn’t here or now so you just decided to enjoy the moment. Feeling Nayeon’s lips trail further down as she kissed her way down to one of your breasts, a devilish smirk appearing on her face as she blew a small stream of air on your already stiff nipple making you groan in frustration before she ran the flat of her tongue over it and brought it into her mouth.

The contrast from cold to warm made you moan as the sudden stimulation caused your hands to shoot up to Nayeon’s head, your fingers tangled in her short locks as you kept her against your chest. Your legs rubbed together as Nayeon kept them closed as she straddled you, her free hand going up to your unoccupied breast as she began palming the soft flesh she found there before moving to pinch and roll your nipple between her fingers. Causing another wanton moan to fall from your lips as the stimulation-or lack thereof-started to burn hotter in your belly as you panted.

“M..mommy, please.” Your voice momentarily fell on deaf ears as Nayeon continued to suck and pinch at your chest before pulling away. Her eyes met yours as you silently begged for the release you have been after since the start of Momo’s punishment. A beat of silence passed between the two of you before she nodded, leaning back down to your sternum to please a trail of kisses down to your stomach. The action caused Nayeon’s body to curl up as her ass was pushed further back to the point she was basically presenting her wet pussy to Momo who could only look at it, entranced by the pink lips that clenched around nothing like it was teasing her as she could feel the wetness return between her legs as well.

Her trance was broken by your loud moan of frustration as a chuckle from Nayeon followed it as she placed a kiss to your lips to silence you, “Since you’ve so good for me Y/N, it’s time for your reward.” The Korean girl smiled to herself at the way your eyes lit up at her words, as she moved down slightly as she grasped the waistband of your panties and shorts, pulling them both down at once. A smirk on her lips as she discarded the remaining clothing, her eyes roaming over your soaked core. Your pussy was flushed pink as your lips already parted for her, stray drops of wetness leaked from your entrance as her eyes flicked to your exposed clitoris. The hood was pulled back slightly as it strained towards her almost like it calling out to her, and she answered.

Nayeon assumed her previous pose as she leaned down to place kisses along your inner thighs as her pussy was left exposed and presented to Momo as the Japanese girl balled her hands into fists, trying her hardest to remain some form of self control as your moans grew in desperation. Your Mistress’ lips left hot, open mouthed kisses along your sensitive thighs as she continued to avoid the place you needed her most. You felt as though you would go insane with how tight the coil in your stomach grew, to the point you began squirming to relieve some of the pressure that was becoming almost too unbearable to be pleasurable. But, Nayeon knew you like the back of her hand and pulled away from you, knowing that any further teasing would either be considered torture or result in a safe word and she really didn’t want to be the one to cause you pain and stop all your guy’s fun.

As your Mistress pulled away you couldn’t help but whine slightly as all the pleasure she had been giving you stopped. But it didn’t last long as she winked at you, “I have an idea.” Your interest piqued as you raised an eyebrow, “Sixty-nine.” Your eyes widened for a second before you nodded, waiting for Nayeon to get off of you as you rotated on the bed so that your head was near Momo as she watched. A smirk decorating your face as Nayeon settled above you again, her pussy inches from your lips as you waited for her signal.

Then you felt her tongue run through your wet folds making you moan out loud as you used your hands to bring Nayeon’s hips down to you. You licked up as you gathered your girlfriend’s wetness on your tongue, tasting the sweet and tang of her juices as you continued licking her slit. You felt Nayeon’s moan vibrate through your core as you bucked up into her mouth, the vibration sending a shock through your system that in turn made you moan into her as well. The display in front of her made Momo whine pitifully as she reduced herself to a whore in heat, a hand found its way between her thighs as she rubbed at her clit. Her breathing came out in pants as she fought off a moan, but the sound made the Korean girl’s ears perk as she turned away from your pussy to look behind her at Momo. The Japanese girl’s eyes were closed as her hand worked quickly between her legs, her breathing came out in clipped breaths as Nayeon rolled her eyes at how unsatisfiable she was.

The elder sighed to herself but was quickly replaced with a moan as you moved to suck on her clit, making her take a second to regain her thoughts, “Momo.” Her words were sharp as they seemed to burn the girl at the end of the bed, making her snap her head up to look at her Mistress. A look of fear in her eyes as she pulled her hand out from between her thighs, making the older girl just roll her eyes as she looked down to you, a smile growing on her face. “Momoring,” the name made the Japanese go pink as she looked to her Mommy, “be a good girl and,” Nayeon reached a hand back as she spread her ass to reveal the tight hole hiding there, “help Y/N and make Mommy feel good.”

Momo didn’t waste a second as she crawled forward, spreading Nayeon’s ass to reveal the tight sphincter that awaited her. The Korean girl’s head was already back in between your thighs as she redoubled her efforts, making you pull away from her as you moaned out loud, clenching around her fingers as they pistoned into your entrance.

Her rhythm faltered as Momo’s tongue began running along the tight ring of her ass, causing her to moan as she gripped the bed sheets into her fists. Nearly screaming as your fingers dipped back into her heat, before reattaching your lips to her swollen clit. “Oh my god!” Nayeon reared up so that she was almost kneeling, unable to comprehend the double penetration of your fingers and Momo’s tongue in her ass as she panted heavily, moaning in clipped bursts as she struggled to ground herself with all the pleasure coursing through her veins.

A smirk grew on your face as you pulled away from Nayeon’s clit, your fingers pumping in and out of her entrance as you delivered your final blow, “Lose control, Mommy.” At your words Nayeon felt as though she had been hit by a truck as her orgasm ripped through her violently, her body shook as her back arched back down. Her face was buried between your thighs once again as she sucked your clit between her lips, moaning into you all the while as you felt your release hit you out of the blue.

“Oh god!” Your hips bucked violently upwards as you felt a stream of wetness leave your core, surprising the three of you as you continued to shake beneath them. Your orgasm ebbing away slowly as black filled your vision.

-

When you came to, you blinked sleepily as you noticed that both Nayeon and Momo were at your sides. A smile on both their faces as they noticed you were up.

“Hi, baby.” Nayeon said quietly as she placed a soft peck to your lips, Momo used her hand to turn your face towards her before also placing a kiss to your lips.

“Wh...what happened.” Your voice croaked from not being used as they both smiled.

Momo snickered as she answered, “You squirted so hard you blacked out.” Your mouth fell open as a blush began creeping onto your face making your girlfriends giggle.

“It was cute.” You shook your head as your eyes rolled at Nayeon’s bunny smile, a content look on your face as you cuddled between the two of them.

“I love you both.” You said through a yawn as they both wrapped an arm around your waist, both their heads resting on your shoulders.

“We love you too, Y/N-ah.”

[dejwritesarchived]

I've started writing and It's been....interesting (if I can say that). It's not the finding the right words to write or coming up with the plot that's difficult. It's somehow "unfulfilling" to me. I enjoy it and getting all my ideas down, but I'm reading back my work I realize that I'M the one who wrote it. Obviously I'm aware that I'm writing it, but It just hits me all at once when I'm finished writing and reading everything back. I already know what's gonna happen and if I don't in that moment, I know it's gonna come to me eventually. I could share it with people, but I feel like it's so specific that I wouldn't get the reaction I wanted. It feels like a very peculiar hobby. Almost like I should just stick to daydreaming. (Hopefully I've explained that in a clear way.) I've always wondered if this happens to other people. Do you ever feel that way?

i have never felt this way personally, but i'm sure many writers have had this experience before when it comes to writing. especially that gut feeling and fear that no one would read your work. the crowd on tumblr is a quite wavy crowd to try to tap into writing for. it kinda reminds me of double dutch and you're just waiting for the perfect opportunity to jump in. if i was to give you advice, you don't have to listen to me cause i'm just a regular degular person on this app...but i would always say post your writing to the public when you're ready. i'm sure this site and other sites like ao3/wattpad/etc will still be here when you are ready to post your work for all of us to say. like i said tumblr is a tough crowd to crack, no one is getting reactions on their work just like that. it takes time and patience. believe me, i didn't start getting likes and notes and stuff until after i was shadowbanned. just continue to write and let your creative juices flow even if you're the only audience of these stories/fics at the moment. you have to also remember, you're writing for you. the validation and notes on posts are only a bonus. <3333

[birdwonder]

headcanon the joestars on how they would react to an artist s/o like always painting, drawing and giving them like a painting of them they worked on?? thank u 💕

|| I don’t do part 5 or further requests yet, and I’m taking Joestars as in the Jojo’s, but I think I know Giorno somewhat enough to throw him in ! Also, cuuute request.

Part 1-5 Jojo’s | Artist S/O Headcanons 

Jonathan Joestar

- As one would expect, he is incredibly supportive of your talent! All of your family/couple portraits are hung up in the hallways and even a few landscape ones too to keep things looking lively. His favourite above all favourites would go above the fire place however, which is probably a painting of the two of you that you had gifted him on your anniversary.

- He cherishes it more than most possessions he owns, and when he’s warming up by the crackling flames, he can’t help but smile at it. That’s your hard work and your effort up there, and any house guests will know it as soon as he shows it to them. 

- Honestly, he doesn’t want to request anything from you as he feels as though anything that you gift him that comes from your mind and heart alone is far more valuable to him. Besides, he wouldn’t really know what to ask for aside from another portrait of you to hang somewhere that wasn’t taken up.

- During the spring and summer seasons, you take the time to set up an easel, canvas and paint set in the garden to have some fresh air and gather new inspiration. Even if you haven’t even gotten far into the piece, Jonathan will eventually come out the house with two cups of tea and stand behind you, bending down to lightly kiss your temple as he’s afraid anything more passionate would interrupt your creative process or cause your finger to slip. He would then ask for you to take a break and sit with him at a table to enjoy the view together, so the two of you can talk about your future painting plans and how his studies in archeology are going. Mutual respect for each other’s interests is an essential ingredient in any relationship.

- “Oh, look at your hands! No matter, we’ll just have to wash them once we’re inside,” is something he says before you realise that a tea cup you were holding had been smudged with a variety of green’s and blue’s from your fingertips. You apologise profusely in which he shakes his head at with a chuckle. “It’s alright, my love. I think it makes them look far more unique now! No china set in the world could look like this.”

- Skip 100 years into the future and your paintings may be in a gallery with a small “to Jonathan” written in the corner.

Joseph Joestar

- Definition of “Paint me like one of your french girls.~”

- Definitely suggests a nude painting of him. Or you. Or the two of you together, whether it be a joke or he’s somewhat serious.

- He’s amazed by your talent! Including your patience. He probably wouldn’t be able to sit still for long enough to even paint an abstract tree, so he has nothing but respect for your artistry. 

-If you were to ever gift him a drawing, he’d be stunned. Does he even deserve to own one of your pieces? Was this a declaration of love? Because he’s accepting it with a hard kiss to your lips and a string of ‘thank you’’s and compliments.

- One day, you had a serious artist block and had no idea what to paint leaving you stumped and staring at a blank canvas in despair. The lack of spark in your eyes that you usually had when painting hurt Joseph, so as a foolish attempt to help, he grabbed a bottle of one of your haunts and squirted it all over his hand.

- You gasped in response, about to scold him on the price of the paints when he suddenly slapped it smack middle of the canvas. “Joseph! Those cost a lot!”

- “Yeah but it’s fun! C’mon try it! Get your creative juices flowing or whatever you art folk say!” Taking your hand, he squirted a different colour onto it which made you giggle cutely as the cold sensation. He then guided it next to his bright hand print, pressing your palm down.

- It looked adorable and gave you an idea.

- With a smile, and a promise from Joseph that he’d buy you more paint later, the two of began to spread more paints onto your hands and continued to cover the canvas mindlessly with your prints.

- By the end of it, the two of who are laughing and even smearing paint on each other’s faces, leading to some squeals and hilarious facial features. 

- Sure, it wasn’t want you had initially wanted to go for, but with a carefully painted on “Joseph and [F/N]” written underneath the first two handprints that were made, you knew that the sentimental value of the piece was far greater than anything else you could have made.

Jotaro Kujo

- He has no reason to be against your talent and doesn’t have enough words and facial expressions to his name to show how impressed he is with you.

- Though that slightly changes when you hand him your sketch book one day, a bashful look on your face as you fear for the worst reaction from him.

- Inside are a multitude of sketches and even fine lined pieces of him, some with and without Star Platinum if you can see him, all carefully and accurately drawn in your own style. You even remembered to add the pin on his hat and his earrings...

- Jotaro could only blush brightly and cough into his hand to compose himself. “It’s good... I like it.” An understatement really, because if you let him keep even a page, he’ll be sure to keep it safe somewhere but no where obvious so his mother or grandfather don’t tease him for it. 

- If you ask him to pose for anything, he’ll want to decline and might even do so the first few times, though with some begging he may do some poses in your home, with the assurance that no one will barge in. Only casual ones though, so he doesn’t have to strain or embarrass himself.

- Buying presents for you is considerably easy as there’s always some sort of pen or paint set he can get to add to your wide range of media, all of which you are grateful for and gush over even though you tell him that buying them is unnecessary.

- “Have you considered doing an art major?” If you say yes, he supports you completely but warns you of the stresses and the harsh reality of the art world when it came to work.

Josuke Higashikata

- Ooh, is he going to show you off.

- “Yo Rohan Sensei! Sure you can draw that manga of your’s but can you draw THIS?”

- He might get killed or have his destiny rewritten by a certain stand user, but he knows it’s worth it when it comes to you. Have you seen your own art? It’s incredible !

- Most likely, he finds out by seeing you doodle in class and his jaw completely drops that your maths work sheet was instead covered in drawings of amazing bodies and plant life. If you insist that they’re nothing and “they’re just sketches,” he will personally shake you senseless and talk your ear off telling you that they are amazing. 

- Gifting him any kind of artistic media makes him overjoyed. Josuke shoves it in Okuyasu’s face, much to the delinquent’s dismay, and hugs you to death for the gift. “Aw babe, you really didn’t have to!”

- If you’re ever stressing over the quality of your work, he reminds you that you are amazing at what you do and that everyone has their own style, so that comparing yourself to others just wasn’t fair on you. 

- He plays a personal game where each day he tries to guess how much pen or paint you have your hand by the end of the day. Usually on weekends, it’s a lot more.

Giorno Giovanna 

- There’s a good chance that you met because of your work.

- You’re in a particularly beautiful Italian city, either sitting on a stool or ledge with a canvas or book in front of you, your hand working away at the landscape before you.

- While he was on a relaxing stroll, Giorno stopped behind you and peered over your shoulder, his breath taken away by how accurate your piece was to every exact detail.

- “Bellissimo...” He whispered, causing you to jolt a little and quickly turn around to look at him, a flushed or embarrassed look on your face. Oh, you’re cute.

- Right after he apologised for startling you and praises you for your work, which only flusters you more that such a handsome boy was complimenting you, you offered for him to sit next to you. Perhaps for you to even draw him?

- He doesn’t refuse.

- Once you’re dating, he takes you wherever you want whenever he can so you can draw the scenery, and shows you more gorgeous places to draw and even suggests what sort of people to draw. He also supports you doing something out of your comfort zone, for example if you typically liked to only sketch, he’d suggest for you to paint or use chalk in another style to see if it improves your skill as a whole.

- When he’s a don, he asks for you to paint or draw him so that he can hang it somewhere in an expensive frame to make his work place appear more serious and clear that he was the boss.

- If you do so, he thanks you a hundred times and buys you anything you want and as much as you want. Giorno also makes sure to repay you physically with a night out and kisses with a goodnight cuddle. 

- He might keep a small sketch of the two of you in his inside jacket pocket or draw so that every time he took it out during work, he’d be reminded of you and how you met, which motivated him to get the job done quick so he could go home to see you.