#i feel like the colours don't coordinate

[chronicowboy]

guilty feet have no rhythm | 1k

Eddie doesn't remember the last time he felt like this. Happy, uncomplicated, free. The world is fuzzy, warm where it wraps around him, dips under his feet like it's making way for him. Everything is so easy tonight. And it's not just the alcohol, not the tequila running warm and smooth through his veins.

No, it had been so spectacularly easy before he'd even had a drink. He'd been easy and full of joy the moment Buck had showed up on his doorstep with two freshly dry cleaned suits that they'd destroyed within the first hour of the party. It had felt, for a moment, like the house had taken its first deep breath in weeks when Buck had stepped inside.

They're in the bathroom again. Eddie has lost count of how many times they've ventured to the toilets tonight. All that alcohol, wreaking havoc on bladders and hand-eye coordination and stomachs. This time, Buck's sleeve has been soaked through by tequila, and Eddie hadn't really had an excuse to follow him in here except the thought of peeling himself from Buck's side had sent a wave of wrong through him so powerful he'd thought he was about to throw up the steak dinner they'd sat down for before karaoke.

So, he follows Buck to the bathroom, falling back against the wall when Buck notices him there and smiles brighter than the neon paint on the walls. He watches Buck shove his sodden arm under the hand dryer, and the steady whine of it fills Eddie's brain with a static that leaves him defenceless.

"What does it feel like?" The words slip out the moment the dryer shuts off with a click.

"Warm, wet," Buck answers with a cute little twist to his eyebrows. He tilts his head to the side, looking every bit like the stray puppy on their street Eddie had fallen in love with when he was twelve and his dad had called Animal Control on. "Have you not... used a hand dryer before?"

"No, Buck," Eddie groans, tastes the name on his tongue like a burst of colour. Yellow like a sunflower, or golden like sunlight itself, or pink like a birthmark as familiar to him as breathing. "What does kissing a man feel like?"

"Oh!" Buck grins, bouncing on his feet a little. He almost topples over with the energy that fills him at the question, and Eddie curls his hands into fists to resist the urge to reach out and hold him steady only because he doesn't feel so steady himself all of a sudden. Buck leans back against the wall opposite Eddie, getting a little lost in something Eddie can only imagine. "It's..." He sighs, long and dreamy. Eddie wants to catch it in his hands, press it to his chest, feel whatever certainty Buck is feeling now.

Certainty. The word lodges itself in Eddie's throat. That's it. That's what he's been missing. That's what's been making the world feel so... Uninhabitable recently. Eddie hasn't felt certain about anything since that solid weight had dropped through his chest at the graveyard. And even now he's still not certain what that weight was. But he'd been a hell of a lot more sure about that than he has been about anything with his girlfriend.

"It's... What?" Eddie prompts, suddenly, certainly desperate for the answer.

"Life-changing," Buck breathes, eyes the colour of an endless sky.

"How?"

"I don't know how to explain it." Buck shakes his head. "It's not really all that different except for all the ways it's different."

"Like what?" Eddie feels like a little kid, boundless in their curiosity, about to get an answer to a question they can barely comprehend.

"Like the stubble," Buck begins, eyes dropping to Eddie's jaw. "The tilting your head up instead of down, the hard chest against yours, the big hands on your waist." His voice turns dreamy, breathy. Eddie understands painfully, feels like he's just run a marathon. "But it's not really..."

"It's not really what?" It sounds like a plea in the muffled silence of the bathroom.

"It doesn't feel all that different when your eyes are closed, you know?" Except Eddie doesn't know. He doesn't know anything anymore. "But that empty space that's been inside you your whole life suddenly feels full."

"Oh." Eddie rubs a knuckle down his breastbone like he's trying to wake himself up with a sternal rub.

"You should try it, Eddie," Buck says then.

"What?"

The world disappears out from under his feet.

"You should kiss a man. It's—"

Eddie takes two steps and changes his life.

Eddie kisses Buck, and it's everything Buck had said. The delicious scratch of stubble, the slight upwards tilt of his head, the hard chest against his, the big hands around his waist, the filling up of that empty space. Except it's all that and more. It's Buck's stubble, it's Buck leaning down to breach that tiny gap between them despite the shocked noise that Eddie drinks from his mouth, it's Buck's firm chest under his hands and Buck's heartbeat pounding against his, it's Buck's calloused but endlessly gentle hands burning through his shirt just above his hips, it's the empty space in his chest not just filling up but overflowing with right right right —

Wrong.

The blast of the hand dryer rips them apart, and Eddie stumbles backwards, wild and free and oh-so-complicated. Every moment of his life before that kiss is rewritten into a writhing mass of wrong as everything else becomes entirely clear. For the first time in his life, Eddie is certain. Certain of two things: he never wants to kiss a woman again, he never wants to kiss anyone but Buck again.

"How was that?" Buck whispers, chest heaving despite the fact that it hadn't really been anything more than a brush of lips.

"Life-changing," Eddie croaks, the sound of it lost as Chim comes stumbling into the bathroom with a blast of Careless Whisper.

[mr-tsuyo]

i love the style of that 3d render of your character! may i ask how you animated the outline and made the whole thing pixel-y? :0

Very glad you asked!

There isn't many tutorials on how to make this kind of stuff so I am totally glad to be the first one.

BLENDER 2.5D TUTORIAL

First of all

Get your model ready and steady, that part is what I ain't explaing, however if you want it to have these colors, you will have to put this nodes in your texture shader

`[ This is for her red jacket, the lower nodes is for her primary colour and the upper nodes are for her shadows, which also has some extra nodes to give it a comic texture. ]

Quick reminder to give the model some lineart yourself to the parts that don't form its sihlouette, for example her shoes.

Now for the lineart, first of all make sure you have created a black Emissive material and that it has Backface Culling activated

After that go to the Modifier Properties and add a Solidify modifier

Make sure to Flip the Normals, set the Material Offset to where the Lineart material is, and adjust a little bit the Thickness of the mesh, then you will get some natural good-looking lineart like hers.

Now, you could easily be satisfied like this, but now we are going to make it feel like each frame is a new drawing by making her model lineart jiggly

First of all create a Displacement Modifier and give it a cloud texture

Make sure to lower the strenght and midlevel, otherwise it will look like this

Now, create an Empty Plain Axes and go to the Displace modifier, change the coordinates from Local to Object and focus the object on the Empty

And thanks to this adjustments, if you move the empty around, it will create a slight jiggle

Now what we want is for this empty to automatically move around without you having to do anything

Create a new screen and go to the Graph Editor section

In here we will be making the empty move with a modifier

Select the empty and press "I" of Italy and select Location, this will create a keyframe for the empty that we will be able to manipulate

Go to the Editor and ONLY SELECT THE Z POSITION, and then go to the Modifiers tab and add a Noise modifier

Make sure to adjust the Scale and the Strength so that it looks more proper for the jiggle effect, make it look like a rollercoaster!

And now, if you did everything right, your empty will be moving up and down and all around by its own

WHICH also means, the model displacement will follow the path of the empty to create that jiggly effect we crave so so much

However...

The model is indeed jiggling, but it's doing it the wrong way, we are trying to make it look like a cartoon not a gosh darnit gelatin

So to make it jiggle the right way we are going to make its noise feel more STEPPED

Go back to the modifiers of the Graph Editor and add a Stepped Interpolation, and make sure it has a Step Size of 5

And now we finally get the choppy jiggle effect!!

Now you can play around the Displace and the Noise to make it more or less jiggly

But nonetheless, if you followed the tutorial right, you will be gifted with the perfect looking 2.5D effect!!!

Now you can go ahead and try to fool everyone into thinking a 3D animation is 2D

And before we wrap up, one more extra for the one who asked how this is made,

We are going to make the render feel pixel-y!

Go to Render Properties, make sure you are using Eevee, and in Sampling put the Render on 1 and the Viewport on 0

Then go to Output Properties and you can do two things:

1) Change the X n Y to a size lower than 1000 px

2) Change the Resolution % to these numbers (8, 16, 32, 64) This way if you wanna do pixel art you are more accurate

For this render I used the 1st option

And last but not least, in the Output Properties make sure you save your files in the right way with these settings

THen render animation, make an image sequence with all the pngs, and TA-DAH

You get a pixel-y 2.5D animation!!!

Thank you so much for checking, I hope this is useful for anyone who wants to do this stuff, if anyone has any questions don't be afraid to ask, I may have explained some stuff badly.

Anyways have a very jolly day

Tsuyo OUT

[apple-salad]

Rose Ribbon Embroidery "Mini" Projects (for BABY NYFW) Part 2: Embroidered Bonnet

I decided semi-last minute to attend BABY's fashion show at NYFW!

BABY had mentioned in their NYFW brand description that their newest collection would be a return to their origins, as well as presenting archival items.

You have to dress to impress for NYFW, right? So of course, I had to pull out all the stops and wear my Rose Ribbon Embroidery.

Also at the last minute, I decided to make a few extra complementing items...

A matching RRE kumya JSK, and a bonnet.

What follows is more of a sew-along/journal rather than a tutorial or guide, mainly for my own memory's sake. But if you enjoy looking at my process (sometimes sloppy), I'm happy!

Also feel free to take a look at the more romantic process video I edited.

Part 1: Kumya JSK

Part 2: Bonnet (you are here)

This post will be my process pictures and notes for the bonnet, as well as a matching mask as a bonus.

I don't believe BABY released matching headwear for Rose Ribbon Embroidery, although I've seen an unknown velveteen headbow with rose lace sold with RRE before.

BABY usually coords RRE with the bunny ear bonnet since Ichigo wears it this way in Kamikaze Girls.

I do own this because I wanted to wear an Ichigo-like outfit at some point, but for this occasion I decided to do something different and make a "matching" embroidered bonnet.

I originally wanted to make a hard bonnet with a very defined brim that could show off the embroidery clearly as I don't really like soft bonnets, but when looking at existing BABY bonnets as a reference, it doesn't look like hard bonnets were a thing back in 2004 (and as it is, BABY rarely releases hard bonnets). So to keep with the oldschool theme, the bonnet is a soft one, although I later make some decisions to make it slightly more structured.

The next decision to make was full bonnet vs half bonnet. The bunny ear bonnet is a full bonnet and I think this is technically more "period accurate", but I am not a fan of how they look like a weird hood from the back so I opted for half (plus, that makes construction and patterning easier for me).

I still used my own bunny ear bonnet as a reference for approximate brim dimensions!

The kumya JSK was a little easier to carelessly sketch out and embroider since I was copying 1:1 from an existing design, but I felt I needed to do at least a bit more careful planning for the embroidery on this. I'm quite bad at creating embroidery designs from scratch, but with the mental image of the rose clusters and swags of vine, as well as referencing the embroidery from the film, I came up with this:

I wanted to emulate the embroidery style of the Momoko's (well, in reality likely the embroidery designer Onoe Megumi--unclear if she did the actual embroidery, but it's likely) embroidery, which I figured wouldn't be too difficult if I was also embroidering by hand.

For material, I am using the same velveteen I used for kumya's JSK. Not my first choice and I actually purchased some thicker looking 100% cotton velvet that I thought would be more similar to the original JSK material, but was worried it wouldn't arrive in time and wanted this project out of the way in case things went wrong/took longer than I expected (it did arrive about a week before the event, but it was totally wrong IRL so I'm glad I just went with this acceptable option). I also bought some more torchon lace, so I used that and another lace from my stash.

The colours of the embroidery in the film also seem to be quite different than BABY's dress. I'm not sure if the pink of the roses has faded over the years, but it has a slight salmon tone whereas the film's roses seem to be more of a pale cool/neutral pink (hard to tell with the yellow tint of the entire film) with some variegation. I love the colour scheme of the film's embroidery, but to keep things coordinated I try to opt for the same colours as the actual dress I have.

I only have white silk ribbon in the width I wanted, so I opted to attempt to dye it to match. Previously I have used alcohol markers to colour the embroidery afterwards, but I find the colour hard to control and it tends to bleed into the fabric. I've also tried colouring the ribbon with the marker before embroidering, but without heat setting the colour transfers onto the fabric as well (and it seems like trying to do so with the amount of ribbon I need would be a waste of ink).

I don't have a lot of experience with it, but since the ribbon is silk, acid dyeing seemed like the way to go.

Very interesting photo of ribbon in pot (the pink ribbon gets eaten up by pinwheel roses much faster than I expected so this is the second batch I had to dye--not ideal as they are definitely slightly different in colour but it's not too noticeable). In total, I think I had to dye 3 batches of ribbon and 4 for the pink ribbon as I just barely ran out near the end, and they are all slightly different colours. Thankfully the undertone is the same so it's difficult to tell unless you are really comparing up close.

I thought I would take this opportunity to use the "peach" acid dye that I bought years ago for another project, but this ended up being a mistake as the colour was totally off (maybe the red dye was too expired). I ended up using my regular fiber reactive procion dyes (with heat/acid), because I have many more colours I could mix together, and that was much better. I really should have done this from the start as I wasted perfectly good silk ribbon by making it too dark/off for my purposes (I ended up overdyeing it in pink so it's a usable colour now, but not for this project).

The silk seems to take on dye extremely fast--even just heating up the dyebath will colour it. In some cases I removed the ribbon before adding any acid at all because I felt the ribbon was already getting too dark.

I managed to get a fairly usable mossy green colour for the leaves and vines, however the pink still ended up being a little off/dark compared to whatever BABY used. It's not too bad here as one strand of ribbon, but when many layers are on top of each other in a rose it seems pretty dark. While not ideal, I think it's still okay, especially considering the embroidery colours used in kumya's JSK match nothing else (many pinks will be going on in this coord).

After dyeing and drying, the ribbon is super wrinkled so I ironed it and wound it on some spare card so it's ready to use.

And now I can start the arduous process of embroidery.

Like before, I mainly use a combination of ordinary ribbon stitches, pinwheel roses, and french knot roses. However, this time I try harder to duplicate, or at least evoke the appearance of the embroidery of the film.

It's interesting how plain and somewhat boring the roses look on their own, especially with this monotone colouring. The varied colours of the film's embroidered roses are lovely, but I decided against it here because the BABY dress has monotone ribbon roses.

The roses definitely seem to just be pinwheel style which is very easy and doable, however I am a bit more confused about the leaves. They look like a number of straight stitches in various lengths and directions that fill in a leaf-like shape. I have no idea if this technique has a name and if there is a proper method for it, because I am a silly beginner who is very uneducated in embroidery.

Anyway I do my best and hopefully I got close enough. Ribbon embroidery is really all about the texture, which is really lovely to look at. Except I have trouble looking at my own work for too long because I start nitpicking all the mistakes I made...

Adding the green and leaves really helps the embroidery come to life.

I took even fewer pictures of the embroidery process than kumya's JSK this time because it's not that interesting. I was definitely getting sick of doing the same pinwheel over and over...

I stupidly decided that aside from embroidering the front of the brim, I also wanted a little bit of embroidery on the back of the brim for interest, as well as on the side.

The designs I drafted out for these two pieces is much simpler, but still, more work....

Almost ready for construction! Hopefully a lot faster with the handwork out of the way.

I iron on some interfacing onto the back brim panel and the bonnet band for slight extra stiffness.

The bottom part of the brim is plain cotton sateen because I was worried that the part that touches the head would get dirtier more quickly it if was velveteen.

I wanted some lace gathered around the brim and an extra velveteen ruffle on the back of the band, so I prepare that now. The lace is gathered with a single gathering thread and sewn down before sandwiching between the two brim panels.

Brim sewn and topstitched (and band is ready for attachment).

The upper flowers ended up a little closer to the top of the band then I intended, but I think it's okay.

Gathering brim and attaching it to band. Because the velvet fabric is so thick, the usual "sew one line of stitching with a wide stitch length" not only made the fabric incredibly difficult to gather, but the thin polyester thread also continually broke when trying to do so. Therefore, I opted for an alternative method I think I'd remember seeing in my sewing machine manual of all things--a zigzag carefully stitched over a central gathering thread. This worked much better, although I probably should have used a thicker/extra strong thread as the central gathering thread because it did break the second time I had to gather the brim due to a mistake.

I also add a bit of lace to the inside of the brim. I think this adds some luxury and frilliness between the head and the bonnet's brim, so I wanted to add a small width. I probably could have used even more of the lace's width since it turned out very subtle when worn. But I still think it adds a small amount of interest to the innermost part of the brim and was worth adding.

Unfortunately here after sewing on both brim parts I realize that I gathered both using an incorrectly marked centre line, so I had to rip it out and do it again ;_;

Next, I can carefully align and pin the bottom of the brim to the bonnet and sew it down. I tack this down by hand because I'm not skilled/accurate enough with a sewing machine to topstitch both sides nicely at once (look closely, and my messy stitching is quite visible...)

I also fold in the raw edges and finish the sides of the brim by hand, leaving some openings for ribbon ties.

At this point I spray almost the whole bonnet with water to disperse and fade my markings. Unfortunately, some of the earlier batches of ribbon that I dyed (Can you tell the variance in the 3 dye batches I needed to do?) were probably not washed well after dying and seem to have bled into the fabric from the water...but hopefully it's not too noticeable.

Next I topstitched all around the brim and attached the ribbon ties.

I bought some double sided velvet ribbon in my last minute supplies shipment and made some bows from it. I think the material is a little thick and petersham would have worked alright as well, but the consistent velvet material feels more luxurious, doesn't it? I also think as an added benefit (?) the ribbon being plush and double sided made the bows more puffy looking.

I add some clips to the sides and a toupee clip to the top for security. I opted for a toupee clips because I think it's really the way to go if you don't want the head item to move at all, no matter how thin or slippery your hair.

Finished.

Bonus 1: rose accent pin

I was in a bit of a rush at this point as it was near the end of the week coming up to the show, so I didn't take any photos of the process here but the technique and templates I used were identical to my handmade faux rose rosettes I made for UM (and the bonus corsages). I have a post with all the details of this sitting in my drafts that I will post eventually, and I will update this post when that happens.

The brooch was just meant to add a bit of 3D faux flower accent to the bonnet, bringing in the rose motif even more. Partially inspired by the faux flowers BABY adds to their bonnets sometimes, like on Milk Tea Doll.

The fabric was "custom dyed" with the same fiber reactive dye I used for the silk. The fabric was further starched, cut out by hand, and shaped with flower iron tools before gluing together.

Bonus 2: matching embroidered mask

I wasn't sure about whether or not I wanted to wear a matching mask, but decided to do so for situations when I would want my face at least half-covered in public. I didn't really expect to be visible in fashion show pictures as someone in the back, but just in case. (I think this decision was worth it, although my makeup transferred all over the thing and in most pictures my face was even more unflattering. eh well)

I forgot to take a lot of pictures of my process for this, but it's very uninteresting and not dissimilar from every other mask sewalong from 2020. I draft out a design similar to the bonnet motifs on both of my mask panels (cotton sateen), and embroider.

I should have embroidered closer to the centre of the mask because when worn the embroidery is not very visible/covered by my hair at the sides. What can I do since the panels were already cut though...oh well!

The lining material is some Japanese CLEANSE Ex fabric I had bought previously to make masks during the pandemic. It's supposed to be antibacterial and antiviral, as well as washable, but I have no idea how well supported those claims are.

Sew together normally on both upper and lower sides, turn inside out, add a channel for nose wire and side channels for elastic.

I also have some mask elastic on hand so I use that.

And the finished outfit again with all my items~

Thank you for reading! If you ever feel inspired to take up a similar project, such as the kumya JSK, I'd love to see it!

[oddly-specific-hermit-headcanons]

some make-up headcanons!

it's no surprise that in hermits world, make up is not tied to any gender identity, but what's more perculiar is that there isn't even make up as We know it in the magical world of minecraft. the situation can be compared to early human ages of discovering the world of make up

they use lapis and flowers to add some colour, beetroots to make the lips pop, etc. there's no foundation but oh Boy do those who know how to do it mix the magical ingredients to have some fun.

those few people who doubled in the wonderful world of face painting are as follows:

evil x and xisuma had an emo phase. "but Vin! if your minecraft hcs are totally disconnected from the real world, how come emos exist?!" they don't. ex thought it would be cool to use coal to make his eyes look more intimidating, X was inspired by it but actually spent his time experimenting to create a cleaner way of adding face paint (studied how coal and other dyes react to different minerals and everything)

stress, to me, has a permanent blush using the goo of beetroot. it suits her.

when scar was first experimenting with his magic crystals, it wasn't always glass. he even powdered down other crystals to see what's happened and stumbled upon blue (and all sorts of) eyeshadow. he didn't really use that information until s9, it was just so fun trying to colour coordinate his elven robes with the accessories and the colour of his eyes! what if he added a little pop of colour there? ooh!

cub just knows things. doesn't need an explanation

xb! one of the few hermits who actually is connected to the ancient world! was raised by the ancestors of the long fallen civilisation. when a player-ocean guardian hybrid appeared as a race, they wanted to feel connected to their mob elders, so they had an almost tribal tradition of adding make up to imitate some of the features. it was glorious. some believe that at some point the richest of the tribe used gold for their paint, but when xb was born only the placement of the face paint was known, so the hybrids had some fun! (it's waterproof make up too)

anyways I like to think the hermits have gatherings sometimes where they share the art of make up and have fun dressing up. everyone paint everyone. scar and xb come together with the power of the Colour and the magic of the fluid lines to paint bdubs face. he appreciates it very much

Ooh that's super cool, I bet the redstoners figured out how to make blush with redstone

[sophsicle]

idk if this will make sense. but 4 obvious reasons i have been getting a lot of dramione fanfic writers on my fyp (don't buy or sell fanfiction jesus christ) AND like, idk if it's just me, but dramione writers feel like. ..real human people, y'know? whereas we, the marauders fandom, feel a bit like tiny sock drawer gremlins or like bridge trolls or something. Not meant for the light of day is what I mean (*affectionately*). like they have very polished profile pictures, and some of them have their whole names out there, and all of them feel like they already have book deals and a house and a car and maybe a juicer or something. like they are the type A put-together big sister to the marauders fandom snotty nosed emo lil brother. YOU KNOW??? i'm like wow, i bet they have day planners and shit. and like. colour coordinated bookshelves. is it just me????? maybe it's just me. they're just sparkly over there that's all im saying.

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> gen, y/n overthinks a lot and isn't very nice or forgiving to herself, food, y/n panicking & hyperventilating, food, blood, suggestive near end

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWELVE -> FAILED ROMANTIC ESCAPADES (partially written, wc: 1.5k)

"Hey, hey, hey." Minho cups your face hesitantly, wiping the stream of tears flooding from your eyes. You're hyperventilating, gasping for air by the time he's arrived to help you as the pan of burnt food lies off to the side. "Here."

He takes a hand and places it on his chest, breathing in deeply and encouraging you to do the same. You try, but its shaky and and you start coughing. A hand comes down to rub your back and you don't even notice how close you are, finally starting to focus on the rise and fall of Minho's chest. Once you've started to calm, he lets his hand fall off of your back, leaving the one clasping yours to him.

"Go sit down," he orders and you try to protest. "No, I don't want to hear it. Go sit and destress with the cats while I salvage this."

"There's no salvaging that," you say, pointing to the charred, inedible... lump on the stovetop.

"So I'll make something new."

Sitting on the couch, you debate texting Soobin and calling the whole thing off, but he's already on the way and the scent of food cooking wafts over you. You feel fucking awful. First, you mess up the date, if you can call it that, before it even started, and now you've guilted Minho into helping you when he was probably in the middle of doing something. What he's making smells delicious and you feel even worse.

"How long?" Minho calls out from the kitchen. The apartment is fairly open, only an island separating that part from the living room you're in.

"Twenty minutes, give or take."

"Touch up your makeup, you cried it all off." Your face reddens. "And wear that pink shirt you have."

"The one with the ribbon?" You ask, confused why he knows your closet.

"No, not that one. The other one with the heart."

"Why?"

"Because it's nice," he says, still focused on the task at hand. "You look nice in it."

You don't know how to respond so you go to look for the shirt he mentioned. It's hanging up in your freshly organized closet, colour coordinated to help you find things easier. Taking it off the hanger, you change quickly and re-emerge to see Minho plating what looks like a professional dish.

Soobin is never going to believe you made that. Your heart drops and you start fiddling with your fingers, standing at the edge if the kitchen and staring as he finishes up. Unwelcome tears prickle at your eyes again, breath picking up slightly. Minhi catches your eye, coming over and looking down at you. His hand comes up to the back of your head, patting your hair, and somehow this helps you calm down.

"He's not going to think I made that," you admit.

"Why not? There are dirty dishes in the sink." Minho turns your face gently to look. "Who says you can't be a Michelin chef in your spare time?"

"Shut up," you push his hand away, barely containing a smile.

"There's our girl," he sighs. "Now, you know-"

A knock at the door, it opens seconds later, a tall man walking in. "Y/n? I know you said to just walk in but I feel weird so I'm still going to wait for you by the door."

"Oh my god." You look to where Soobin's voice came from, back at Minho, gripping your panic by the throat and shoving it away. "He'll see you if you go to your room and I said no one would be home."

"I can hide-"

"Behind the island!" You push him away quickly as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning around, you see Soobin hesitantly walking in. "Hey! I was just um... finishing getting everything ready! Yeah, that's what I was doing. I, uh, still need to get drinks though. What do you like? We have a bit of red wine left, sparkling water, regular water, and some pop too. Unless you don't want a drink! But hydration is important."

Your voice becomes small nearing the end of your rambling, internally cringing at yourself, but Soobin just smiles and takes off his coat. "Regular water is fine."

Nodding, you go to the side of the island Minho is on. He's crouched against the side, looking up at you as you open the fridge door. When you turn back around with the jug of water, you can see Soobin rounding the corner and panic, nearly dropping the jug as you kick Minho's leg, silently telling his to go around to the other side. He glares at you, but crawls away just as Soobin joins you, a small smile on his face. Sweat clings to your skin as you set the jug down, sending Soobin a tight smile as you reach for two glasses. They're just too high, but you're determined, which does not end well. One glass is close enough to the edge that you can grab it smoothly, but the other is shoved and falls onto the counter, glass flying.

"Oh my god!" You step back, setting the glass behind you and pushing Soobin away with your other hand. "Stand here, I'll sweep this up. I'm so sorry."

You're trying hard not to cry again at this point, so overwhelmed and overstimulated that you feel like you'll burst. The glass cleans up easy enough, but you still feel terrible.

"Y/n, you're bleeding."

"What?" You look down at the hand you just threw the glass out with and see a small cut running under your pointer and middle fingers. "Shit, okay, um, I'll be right back."

"Oh, okay," Soobin leans out of your way as you rush past him.

"Get it together," you say to yourself as you close the bathroom door, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. "Patch it up and get back out there. Calm the fuck down."

And you do just that, slapping a bandage onto the wound and stepping back out. With another deep breath, you reenter the kitchen.

"Ready to eat?" You plaster a smile on your face, taking the dishes and setting them on the coffee table. "We usually eat at the island, but I thought the couch would be nicer for tonight since the seats are comfier. Is that okay? We can eat at the island if you prefer. Or even up on the rooftop, we have a picnic table up there-"

"The couch is fine," Soobin cuts you off. "Really."

You laugh nervously, watching Minho crawl back to the other side as Soobin joins you on the couch. As you eat and make small talk, you become more comfortable, laughing freely at his jokes and even making your own. After you're done, he compliments the food and a wave of guilt runs through you, but you push it down and suggest a movie. Out of the corner of you eye, you see Minho trying to escape the kitchen, so you fully divert Soobin's attention to the TV, allowing Minho to stop being an unintentional third wheel. Not that this is a date.

This is how you end up snuggled into Soobin's chest, his arms wrapped around your waist as the credits roll. It's dark outside, the sun having set while the movie was still going. You yawn, looking up at him with a sleepy smile that he returns, ruffling your hair a bit and making you giggle.

"I had a good time tonight," he says, and you swear his eyes flickered down to your lips, but maybe you're being delusional.

"Me too, we should do this again sometime."

"I can think of something else I'd like to do again," he smirks and you blush.

"You know we can't-"

"They don't have to know." Soobin uses a finger to lift your chin, barely a breath away from his soft lips now. "We don't have to say anything. I know you like me Y/n, and I like you too."

Your heart is racing as he closes the distance between you, mouths moving together in a rhythm. He slowly moves you onto your back, the hand on your waist traveling down to your hip, toying with your waistband as he hovers over you and deepens the kiss. As his thumb dips under the waistband, it sets in what's happening and the feeling of guilt washes back over you, pushing him off you harshly with a hand to his chest.

Sitting up too quickly, your head spins. A hand is on your cheek, turning you to face the man next to you, but everything is too much and you smack it away. Soobin furrows his eyebrows and retracts his hand.

"I think I should go," he says, voice low.

You don't say anything as he gets up or when he slides his shoes and coat on. All you can do is stare at your hands, skin hot and tingly all over. When you hear the door open, your head finally shoots up to see Soobin leaving.

"I'm sorry-" You get up, but he's already out the door. You stare at the wood, wishing there wasn't something wrong with you.

notes -> i wanna hug yn. so, her family is coming into the picture here... doesn't seem like the greatest dynamic.

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa @lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15 @splat00z

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[late-to-the-party-81]

Shifting Sands

AN:Hey folks - I had a horny dream and this was born. Absolutely not sorry in the slightest.

In this AU, shifters of all types are known even if they aren’t prevalent, including some subsets where the person has special abilities, but doesn’t actually shift into another creature. This includes our reader, who carries ‘Princess’ genes.

You couldn’t really argue, the state you were in. And you did agree that you probably needed to be checked over and have your bike assessed as well. So, with nothing really to do until 

And if you want to know what I was imagining for Lloyd’s ahem then check out this link (ignore the colours, or not 🤭). Be warned, it’s obviously NSFW.

Also, this is un-beta'd so apologies for any typos or sentences that don't make sense.

Mood board by me, dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Masterlist

Summary: Being a Princess is wonderful, but unfortunately trying to find your Prince isn’t. However, a chance encounter leads you into a relationship with a man who is like no Prince you’ve ever met.the paramedics arrived, you watched as the man paced up and down, phone pressed to his ear.

He was tall. And lean. But you had the feeling that under those faun chino’s and pale blue polo shirt lurked solid muscles, especially when he briefly turned his back to you and you could see the way his pants tightened over his ass. Jeez, you could bounce a penny off it.

Relationship:Dark! Lloyd Hansen x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

CW: Meet-Ugly, Minor RTA, Minor Injury, Naive Reader, Explicit Sexual content, Oral Sex (F receiving), Vaginal Sex, Sting in the tale, Identity reveal, Knotting, Non-Con, Kidnap, Breeding kink, Monster fucking.

You were fifteen when you and your parents realised you had one of the legendary genes. Small animals suddenly lost their fear of you - at first following you and then climbing on you. The birds would sing with you and mammals would bring you things you needed but couldn’t reach, seemingly mind readers. That’s when Mom and Dad sat you down and really explained the world to you. You were a Princess.

At one point, genes like yours had been abundant in the population, an offshoot of those that could cause shifting, but like with your wolf and bear counterparts, the years had dwindled their prevalence. However, unlike them, you couldn’t physically transform (as much as your teenage self had hoped you could change your looks, weight and hair into something more aesthetically pleasing) but you did have strange skills that marked you as different. The animal thing was the main one, but your singing voice had improved overnight, and strangely, your crafting ability had gone from non-existent to May Morris levels. Also those with compatible genes, like the Prince gene found you very attractive and could pick you easily out of a crowd. Men who were Princes found themselves with enhanced hand-eye coordination and an affinity with dogs, horses and hunting birds. Unfortunately, such adroitness didn’t stop them from being absolute douche-bags.

“And then,” drawled Matthew, the latest Prince to invite you out on a date, “I spoke to his boss and got him fired. I mean, who did he think he was? Telling me I couldn’t park my car there, like I was some ‘normy’.” His pouty lips twisted up into a sneer that made him look as unattractive as he sounded.

Your own mouth twisted up, but into a facsimile of a smile, and you nodded noncommittally. You’d learnt the hard way that spurned Princes were not pleasant, and you were glad you’d insisted on meeting him here at a restaurant away from your normal stomping ground. Once you left, you could send him a brush off text and block him. He didn’t know where you lived and you weren’t reliant on him to get back there. You might be a Princess, but you were also a modern, independent woman.

Matthew talked about himself some more, and you feigned interest, making the right noises to keep his fragile ego intact, but inside you were counting down the minutes until you could bring this evening to an end. You weren’t even going to order dessert, because you’d decided you didn’t want to spend more time in his company than necessary. You were starting to lose hope that there were any good princes out there, because this was the fourth date you’d been on in as many months and all of them had been washouts, each Prince more interested in the sound of his own voice and waxing lyrical about his superiority than anything you had to say.

WIth your plates cleared and the check requested, Matthew didn’t really argue when you insisted on paying your share, probably because he was a tightwad. You said goodbye to him at the table, an awkward affair where you had to turn your head to direct his cool, wet kiss to your cheek and not your mouth, and then once he left you retrieved your holdall from the coat check. 

You ducked into the washroom to change, and came out in your bike leathers. Who needed to be able to ride a horse when you could sit astride something with multiple horse-power? You passed a moustachioed man going in the opposite direction, and let a smirk touch your lips as he did a double-take and almost walked into the door frame. That reaction never got old.

Outside, you stuffed your hold-all, now containing your dress, shoes and tiny purse, into one of the fixed panniers, before straddling your metallic steed. It was mere moments work to put your helmet and gloves on, before double checking your mirrors and starting the engine. It purred between your legs, powerful and mean, and with a kick to the stand and a twist of the accelerator, you were pulling away into the night.

You were happy to note that traffic was light. Crowded city streets often felt more dangerous than the freeway. Traffic jams made car drivers angry and careless, and you tended to avoid riding when it was rush hour if you could.

You pulled up at a stop light, glad this night was almost over and that you’d soon be able to change into your pajamas and settle down with a tub of B&J before hitting the hay. The light turned to green and you’d just slipped the clutch and started moving when it all happened.

A car - electric you guessed later from the lack of sound it made - came up behind you from further down the street, travelling at way over the speed limit. It didn’t move out wide to give you space, or slowdown, and as it passed, far too close, you flinched. Your knee-jerk reaction caused you to wobble atop your bike. You tried to correct it, but you were already too off-balance. 

It all happened so fast, but also in slow-motion at the same time, and you suddenly found yourself lying half on, half off the sidewalk, stars spinning in your vision. You breathed a sigh of relief at the fact you’d managed to kick away from your bike as you went over so you weren’t trapped under it, but regretted the instinctive movement as pain shot through your ribs. Yeah, some were definitely bruised, maybe even cracked, from the way you’d landed on the curb.

You pushed up, gingerly, onto your elbows and cursed as your head span and whiteness filled your vision. You didn’t have the time to deal with a concussion. However, a heartbeat later you realised that wasn’t your brain reacting, there actually were lights pointed at you. Your dazed brain finally registered the sound of a car engine and the world rushed back in.

There was a man on his knees next to you, an arm stretched out toward you as if to slow your journey back to upright.

“… you…quite…-mble…”

His voice was muffled by your helmet, although you were finding it hard to concentrate on what he was saying because your gaze was stuck on the thick, familiar-looking mustache sitting on his top lip. 

Ignoring his hand, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in your side, and removed your helmet.

“Not sure you should be doing that, Princess,” came the gruff rebuke.

You shot the man with a side-eyed glare. “I’m fine.” However, moving more in an attempt to get to your feet took your breath away and you immediately slumped back down. “Okay, maybe I’m not fine.”

“I’m gonna call an ambulance,” Moustache man stated. “You need to be checked out. I’ll call a tow company, as well. Get your bike looked over.”

Your brow furrowed and you did some mental math. If you shifted some money from one account to another, and put some of the cost on your credit card you might be able to afford it all. Stupid asshole driver.

Your rescuer seems to understand the reason for your sour expression. “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours. I’ve got cash to burn. Much prefer to let you have some than the IRS.” He gave you a wink and stepped back, dragging his phone from his back pocket and started to make his calls.

You couldn’t really argue, the state you were in. And you did agree that you probably needed to be checked over and have your bike assessed as well. So, with nothing really to do until the paramedics arrived, you watched as the man paced up and down, phone pressed to his ear.

He was tall. And lean. But you had the feeling that under those faun chino’s and pale blue polo shirt lurked solid muscles, especially when he briefly turned his back to you and you could see the way his pants tightened over his ass. Jeez, you could bounce a penny off it.

His hair was short, faded at the back and sides, and dirty blonde in colour, the same as his over the top moustache. As he talked, throwing glances your way, he gesticulated with his free hand. His fingers were long and tapered, and there was a ring decorating each knuckle. A man with money, and one who wasn’t afraid to flash it, either.

You finally looked over at his car, unsurprised to see a white Porsche. You giggled as you thought about how much he’d have to fold himself to get in and out of the thing, and then winced. Damn ribs.

Having ended his calls, he came back over and crouched down next to you. “How’re you doing, Princess? Only a few minutes and we’ll be getting you checked out.” His eyebrows gave a mischievous waggle and you couldn’t hold back a very un -ladylike snort, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

”Don’t make me laugh,” you wheezed. “And don’t call me ‘Princess’.”

”Why not? It’s what you are. Clocked you outside the bathroom back at the restaurant, and knew what you were almost immediately, even if it was your leathers that piqued my initial interest. You’re certainly a different sort of Princess.”

”That I am,” you confirmed. “And I don’t think I’ve ever met a Prince like you. But that explains the car, the jewellery, your demeanor.” You gesticulated up and down his body.

”Ouch,” he said with a smirk as he pulled a cigarette from a golden holder in his pocket. “You don’t pull any punches do you? I like it. And I can confirm that you’ve never met anyone like me, Princess. The name’s Lloyd.” He held his hand out towards you. “Lloyd Hansen, and I’m gonna change your world.”

Outside of paying for your medical bills and the repair of your bike, you hadn’t put much stock in what Lloyd had stated so confidently. However, here you were, at a restaurant far fancier than any you’d been to previously, and considering this was your third date with Lloyd, it seemed he knew how to keep upping the ante.

The first date you’d agreed to as a thank you. Your ribs had only been bruised and your co-pay had covered most of that, but your bike was another story. It had needed significant repairs to the paint work and the front wheel realigned. Lloyd wouldn’t hear of taking any of your money, but had asked if you’d mind joining him for a meal, just so he could assure himself that you were recovered.

That you could manage. Sitting through tedious meals with pompous Princes was your special skill after all, however you’d been pleasantly surprised.

First off, while Lloyd was firm in his interactions with servers, he didn’t command in a rude, entitled manner. In fact, he even smiled. And that same politeness extended to you as well, from little things like taking your coat and settling you in your chair, to actually asking you questions about yourself and listening to your replies. In fact, his only resemblance to the other Princes you’d met was how immaculately turned out he was, and you had to admit that the way the low light glinted off his chunky gold jewellery was quite pretty.

With your bike in the shop and your ribs still healing, your first date had ended without your traditional change into bike leather and with Lloyd standing with you outside the restaurant waiting for your cab. He hadn’t argued, or tried to cajole you into letting him drive you home, and you liked him all the more for it. And when the cab arrived and he opened the door for you, you found yourself standing up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek before ducking down inside. As it pulled away, you couldn’t help but look out the rear window and watch him standing at the curb until you turned a corner. All of this meant that when you received a text from him later in the week, asking if you’d like to join him for dinner again, you found yourself unable to say now. He definitely wasn’t like any Prince you’d met before.

This second date was just as enjoyable as the first and you even found yourself flirting a little, something you didn’t normally do. You stayed for dessert, laughing lowly with Lloyd as you fed each other bites of the sweet treats in front of you both, and even leaning across, your napkin in hand, to swipe a little bit of cream off those bristles.  This time, when he’d walked you outside to wait for your ride home, he kept your arm tucked in the crook of his, your body pulled close to his side, and you felt twitchy - nervous - but not in an unpleasant way, where you were looking for ways to escape, but more because there was a heat suffusing your body and a fluttering in your stomach. When he held the door for you, you went for broke, aiming your goodnight kiss onto his plump lips and discovering that his moustache wasn’t prickly like you’d imagined, but actually quite soft. 

You’d only lightly brushed your lips against his before stepping back, not wanting to come off as pushy or desperate, but before you could climb into the cab, Lloyds hand had reached out, cupped your cheek and drawn you back to him for a longer, deeper kiss, his tongue playing at the seam of your lips, although not moving between them. When he broke it, moving back to give you space, you’d felt a little dizzy, and found yourself pressing your fingertips to your mouth, as if you could transfer the tingling feeling to them.

”Until next time, Princess,” Lloyd had smirked affectionately, before lighting a cigarette and you hadn’t been able to stop your brain replaying that kiss for the next several hours. You swore you even dreamt about it that night.

The invitation for ‘next time’ came only two days later, and you didn’t hesitate, smiling to yourself like a teenager as you texted him back to accept. Giddy with excitement, you’d even agreed to let Lloyd pick you up, despite the fact that your bike was now as good as new. When he arrived on the sidewalk outside your small apartment you found out you’d been right about how he looked getting in and out of Porsche, but you’d managed to wrangle your giggle into just a knowing smile.

Now, sitting here, in this opulent restaurant, a string quartet playing and champagne on the table, you felt every inch a Princess of old, even if the Prince opposite you was somewhat unconventional in his appearance and demeanour. However, Lloyd was as attentive and charming as ever, smiling at you with eyes alight with humour and making sure you were happy and content. He turned the flirting up a notch, making you giggle and turn your head into your shoulder to avoid his too knowing gaze.

”You really are something else, Princess,” he said as he observed you over the rim of his wine glass. “Funny. Intelligent. Fiercely independent. And beautiful too, of course. No idea how someone hasn’t snapped you up already?”

You chuckled, lowly. “Have you met other Princes? Obnoxious isn’t the word. Present company accepted.”

Lloyd laughed along with you. “You’re not wrong. And I’m sorry to say, I probably have my moments. But not too many, I hope. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” His leg brushed against your’s under the table, the heat of it burning through his pant leg and your pantyhose. You didn’t move your leg away.

“You haven’t so far,” you teased, a smile curling your lips. “And if I’m something else, you’re other-worldly. You’re just so… so… hot!” You rested your elbow on the table, cupping your chin in your hand, regarding him just as hard as he was looking at you. It felt as though you were on the edge of something, fear of the unknown making adrenaline course through your veins. But it was a good fear, one that felt invigorating. Inviting. Did you dare to take the next step? His eyes bore into yours, deep and cerulean, waiting - waiting for your move.

Dragging your gaze from his, you took in the whole of him. His lean power. His muscled and no-doubt powerful arms. You knew what his ass looked like within his pants and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to grab hold of it, naked. You’d even become enamoured of that stupid moustache, fantasising after that kiss about how it would feel against other parts of your body.

It took all of your self control not to squirm in your seat as you once again met his eyes, your decision made.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Your back arched and your hands fisted the sheets as your body spasmed from the pleasure washing through it. 

It had been inevitable that you’d end up here. Both of you had known what you were offering with the question you’d asked. Lloyd’s expression had barely changed as you’d spoken, other than the raising of one eyebrow. He’d calmly requested the check, throwing a wad of cash, that probably vastly exceeded the cost of your meal, onto the table as soon as your waiter returned. Then, without one change to his normal, gentlemanly behaviour, he’d helped you out of your chair, into your coat and guided you out to his car.

“Where to, Princess?” You were glad he was asking you, seemingly not wanting to pressure you into something you didn’t want, but you’d made your decision. 

“Show me your place, Lloyd. I wanna see if it’s as amazing as I’ve imagined.”

He’d grinned at that, before putting the Porsche in gear and peeling away from the sidewalk. And if you’d thought his driving was fast, that was nothing compared to what happened once you finally got to his penthouse. As soon as the door had shut behind you, Lloyd had wrapped you in his arms and kissed you, passionately, and you’d answered in kind, as eager for what was to come as he apparently was.

You hadn’t even realised how he’d been steering you towards his bedroom until your knees hit the back of the mattress and you tumbled down onto it. Grinning devilishly, Lloyd had pulled his shirt off over his head, baring his smooth, tattooed chest and gold necklace. Your fingers itched to trace over every single line of ink, but he’d joined you on the bed a moment later, his body covering yours and kissing you once again as his hands slid between your legs and up under your skirt. Your pantyhose had only provided a momentary barrier, solved by Lloyd ripping them up the middle before pushing your underwear to the side so that he had unfettered access to your core.

He’d swallowed the whine you let out as he sunk two fingers into you, and you felt the coolness of his rings as they pressed against your heated flesh. His thumb had rubbed circles on your clit and you’d immediately began to twitch under him. Fuck. Had anyone ever gotten you this hot, this quick? When he’d dragged his lips from yours, it was to trail down your throat, your collarbone and then the swell of your breasts. Your dress had still covered the rest of you, but he’d by-passed it so that his mouth could join his fingers.

You’d like to say that the reason you’d been so noisy while he ate you was because you’d been secure in the knowledge that no-one else could hear, but that would have attributed you with more awareness than you’d actually had. Your world had narrowed, drastically, to only include the man feasting between your legs and how he was torturing your body with absolute bliss.

When your twitching subsided, and your moans had turned to ragged pants, Lloyd raised his head. “Fucking delicious, Princess.” His hand wiped over his moustache, which appeared to be soaked in your juices. Stepping back, he toe’d off his shoes, and you watched him lazily with hooded eyes as he pushed down his pants. It was hard to miss how his cock pressed against the inside of his black briefs, and your stomach flipped as you realised just how fucking big it was. He was back in an instant though, distracting you from your concern with more kisses and busy fingers that separated you from clothes at lightning speed.

“You ready to become mine, Princess?” He shimmied out of his underwear and you felt him land hot and heavy against your inner thigh.

“Please,” you whimpered, your body apparently desperate for him. You canted your hips so that his cock shifted to lay over your sodden folds. “I need you.” His own hips moved in return, slicking himself up on the mess that coated you. 

“Music to my ears.”

Lloyd’s hand moved between you, guiding himself into you, and as his thick length began its slow breach of your pussy, your eyes rolled back, a deep moan leaving your throat. “Oh, god!” He was going to split you apart. You were gonna die, but fuck what a way to go. You clasped his forearms, your nails curling into the taught muscle, as his hips moved gently back and forth to help carve out a space inside you for himself.

“So fucking tight, Princess. You’re gonna strangle my cock.” Lloyd let out his own groan as he finally bottomed out, letting his head hang for a moment as sucked in sharp breaths before meeting your gaze with his bright blue one. “I’m gonna fucking wreck you and you’re gonna love it.”

His hips snapped and you cried out at the sensation. Then he did again, and again, setting up a brutal pace that left you dizzy. Your vision went hazy only able to focus on the swirls of ink over his left pectoral, the creature adorning his skin almost looking alive as Lloyd flexed and moved above you.

“So fucking beautiful,” he mumbled out from above you. “Knew I had to have you, from the moment I saw you.” He changed the angle of his thrusts and fireworks exploded across your vision. “So good, the way you’re taking me, but I can’t wait to see your face when I give you even more.”

You tried to focus your gaze on his face but he must have been fucking you stupid, because it looked as though smoke were coming out of his mouth, but he never smoked around you, and there was no cigarette in the vicinity. It must be the lighting, you decided, especially as his skin was also now looking strange. You reached out your hand towards his neck, where he seemed to have a tattoo that you hadn’t noticed before, some kind of scales.

Just then, despite how full your pussy was already feeling, it seemed as though Lloyds cock swelled even bigger. You looked up at him, confused and in a bit of discomfort, and your breath caught in your throat.

“L-lloyd. What’s going on? Your eyes!” You were scared now, because instead of round, human pupils, his eyes now sported vertical slits. His grinned back down at you, predatory now, a look you didn’t recognise, and smoke curled out from between his lips. You tried to scrabble back, tried to get out from under him, but he clamped one be-ringed finger down on your shoulder, holding you in place as he continued to thrust and his cock continued to grow. 

“Stop!” You cried out. “Let me go.”

“Sorry, Princess. I can’t do that. Once I collect something it stays right here. Afraid it’s what I do.” His hips continued to move, his ardour not affected at all by your attempt to get away.

You beat your fists on his chest and tried to buck him off you, but it was as though his weight had increased along with all the other changes that seemed to be happening. It was as you were having that thought that clarity hit you. How could you have been so stupid? So naive?

“You lied to me! You’re not a Prince at all.”

“Aawwww, Princess,” he drawled, condescendingly. “I never said I was. You made the assumption and I didn’t bother to correct you. But Princes aren’t the only creatures that can spot a Princess. It was also laughingly easy to arrange our little meet-cute. A quick phonecall was all it took.” As he spoke, his body continued to alter - his fingernails growing and turning into talons, his flesh shifting into scales that glittered in the low lights. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll like living here with me. I have lots of pretty things in my hoard for you to look at, and, in time, you’ll be round and full of my babies. That’ll keep you occupied.” Another sharp thrust had you crying out again as the pain mingled with the pleasure he was still able to wring from your body. He nuzzled at your throat, a seemingly tender gesture at odds with the way he was fucking you. “And I can make it good for you, too. You’re going to love it when I knot you. Your cunt is going to spasm so hard and cream over me. Be good for me, Princess. Almost there. Almost…”

Each move his body made caused waves of sensations to flood yours, despite the fact you wished it wasn’t so, his ridged and scaled cock rubbing you oh-so-right, even as tears of fear fell from your eyes. Lloyds tongue snuck out from between his lips, longer now and forked, and lapped them up. You sobbed as you felt your orgasm approaching. You didn’t want it, didn’t want Lloyd to have the satisfaction, but it wouldn’t be denied.

The monster above you roared into his climax, his throat glowing as if lit up from the inside by fire, and as his knot popped, locking him into you, you screamed through your own eye-watering pleasure. Your combined cries echoed in your ears as your vision started to turn black, and as you let yourself sink into the escape of unconsciousness you wondered if you’d ever escape the dragon’s clutches.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions,

@nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318, @blackhawkfanatic, @scram1326,

@steviebbboi @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989,

@kombatfather1796 and because you seemed interested, @chrissymbod

[ghostiguro]

shamwow ref sheet, finally!!!!! :D

figuring out how to draw them was tough, still ironing out their design a bit, but overall i'm happy with how it looks. :3

you know what time it is-- ramble that no one asked for, aw yeahhh.

firstly, when designing them i for sure knew i wanted their design to be fuzzy & inspired by a tarantula; i know they're supposed to be a jumping spider but.. don't care, fuzzy spider supremacy. also tarantulas have weirdly adorable paws?? i love it.

their eye colour is supposed to be somewhere between red & violet; they look a bit more pink than i intended, so i'll probably adjust that as time goes by.

final thing i wanna add about their design specifically; because they are the eldest sibling, & it's insinuated that they absolutely merced all the other gods, i wanted their design to stand out more & be a little more fancy to show their status. i want to eventually add more details cuz i feel like i could make it look way cooler, but this is good for now. :3

it's made clear in the game that the bishops relied on the crowns to work around their disabilities, so when shamura is indoctrinated into the cult, they struggle a LOT with their head injury. their symptoms including, but not limited to; memory loss, poor facial recognition, visual trouble, brain fog, migraines, loss of fine motor skills, lack of balance & coordination, vertigo, struggles with vocabulary (stutters, can't find words, or sometimes makes up their own words), they often repeat things that don't really have much meaning, hand tremors, hallucinations, etc. they start out really bad, & their injury would be far worse if it weren't for the fact that they're a god & the crown prevented the injury from being as bad as it could have been. their siblings are all very patient with them, & the lamb assigns them a buddy as they begin to recover & are able to move around the cult grounds more. they eventually get to a point where they're able to function, still with moderate memory loss & brain fog, as well as migraines & hand tremors, but it takes them a *long* time to get to that point.

in their free time, they used to enjoy sewing & reading, but due to their injury, they struggle a lot with it which frustrates them to no end. they later get glasses to help with their vision so they can read, & learn how to knit & crochet, as sewing is a bit hard when your hands are constantly shaking & you're holding a tiny needle & thread.

later on in their recovery, they start helping out around the cult, doing a little bit of everything; they help the lamb with everyday duties when they can, usually small errands like delivering & retrieving items (they write them a little note in case they get lost along the way; shamura holds onto many of these notes, & have a basket in their room filled with notes they've collected over time); they help leshy in the farm/garden, heket in the kitchen when she's chefing it up, & kallamar in the healing bay, & occasionally keeps him company while he paints or crafts things. eventually, shamura & narinder are able to repair their relationship-- i haven't figured out what exactly narinder's tasks & hobbies are yet but they would keep him company & help when they can, too.

ok this is getting long so i'm gonna leave it here for now. :3

now i just have to finish the lamb & goat, & then all the rest of the characters & cult members... hoo boy.

[dreamerwitches]

WITCH THOUGHTS LET'S GOOOOO!

THEY IMPROVED CARMELA THANK FUCK! They did it for me..! ^v^ She is WAY more coordinated and the colours are sooo nice! The frilly skirt bit is soooo cute! I love how she kinda looks like an octopus or some kind of sea creature. Not sure how well that links with Manaka but eh. I don't think there's much I dislike here. Perhaps the knife rack thing is a little out of place? Not sure. Now as the witch from the doppel hmmmm it seems like the circular bit is completely lost... for link-age, that's not great but getting rid of it to make the design better, i am wholeheartedly down for. She is a big win for me!

Obariyon. I'm hmmmmm not sure. I don't hate it. Why does its head look like a bear? Is it cause like... Obeariyon..? I just don't know if this would be what I'd imagine the full witch to be... The doppel makes me think more of an insect or something whereas this is going for a mammal it seems. It's good but I'm on the fence whether I personally like it.

From the silhouette from the trailer I was super worried about Hevelius but I think I like her? I think her shape is interesting and as stupid as the head is, I think it's fun. But I do have gripes. I'm a bit bothered that the white fabric bit that was so focal before is just completely gone and the head piece and veil is completely removed, like c'mon, that could've been super pretty on her head. And I'm not sure about the coral-looking uhhh thing. And I hate those legs why do they look unfinished? As I rack up the complaints maybe I don't like it..? Hm... I feel like I could improve it using that shape base though. She's fine.

Also... THE HEAD LOOKS LIKE THAT MANNEQUIN HEAD FROM RUPAUL'S DRAG RACE BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER ITS NAME

Now we're getting onto the ones I super like again wheeee! I think Pennen Nolde is so fun, the little matchstick girl theme is ace! I'm sad some super cool aspects of the doppel are gone though... I loved the matchstick thing and the lace and hanging diamonds but eh, maybe they just didn't fit. She's good and I can see it working the other way if the doppel came second. Although the legs are simple, I think the doll legs work and aren't bland like Hevelius'

Pennen Nemenu, ough, I think she's beautiful! I think she takes from the doppel super well! I miss the weird teapot head but I think the head they chose is also cool. Maybe add the tassels onto the end of the hat thing? I love how the main body is utilised into her bloomers (one thing I was sad was missed about Nolde) and she's super cute. My only gripe is her body shape, she is a child she does not need a stick thin waist and boobs, thank you

Now I did notice that these last 3 doppels share a similar body shape and I get that for important, linked characters. I don't think it's a bad thing cause they're all unique enough on their own.

And back to disappointed. My fears came true, I did not want her witch to just be the Nightmare-esque part... sigh... it doesn't even take from it well... no ears? Hair completely wrong colour, face completely different, stripes going wrong way. Like, I get it. Gas mask for poisons, bandage on head for uhh illness (i dont know enough about Alina but she was in the hospital right?) but it's not her doppel. Disappointing.

[compassionatereminders]

Hello! I am a person who's struggled with periods of fatigue + illness + heavy burnout a lot in the past couple years, and I just wanted to share some of the stuff that kept me sane in case it helps you too. I found that doing simple repetitive tactile crafts was really nice, it broke my brain less than anything digital and it was easier to follow instructions for something like origami or crochet or colouring sheets than to think of ideas on my own. It helps to feel fulfilled and keep me busy, and can be done for as little at a time as you need.

If you're not quite there yet or can't do that due to motor issues, I found in times like that that listening to ASMR did a lot for me. Words and talking were too hard to listen to and understand, so I found a lot of talking free ASMR like the baking YouTube channel Chocolate Cacao were good. His older videos are much better imo, they are slower paced and less overwhelming.

I sincerely wish you all the best, and I hope you can be gentle with yourself and remember that time and rest are often the best healers for this sort of thing. Even if it's taking a very long time, not forcing more than you can manage and delaying your recovery is the best favour you can do for yourself. Think of it like a broken bone - walking on it will make it worse, but if you're gentle and wait it out recovery is possible. And: even if you don't get fully "healed", your life and expression of self still matter so much and improve the world you live in. Best of luck!!

~ @theramblingvoid

Thanks, I appreciate it! I unfortunately don't have the coordination/cognitive skills for things like crochet or origami on a more general level, but for now I'm having a decent time with my books (audio when my brain is melting), tumblr, TV and a bit of conversation

[vanillablankcanvas]

Oneshot -Broppy Wedding Planning

Pop Village was buzzing with celebration!

The former town grump, Branch had finally…

FINALLYYYYY!!!!!!-

Proposed to Queen Poppy!

And she said ‘Yes’!!!

The town had never been this excited!

This would be the first Royal Wedding since they escaped Bergen Town!

AND

The first Troll wedding attended by Bergens!

AND

It would be the first Royal Wedding to be attended by the other Trolls Tribes in centuries!

This was going to be the event of a lifetime!

Satin and Chenille had produced a scrapbook they had made for Poppy as an engagement gift. 

It was full of wedding ideas they had collected over the years that they thought Poppy could one day use.

Flower arrangements, colours, cakes, songs, dance numbers…

The scrapbook was huge!

Branch found Poppy in her pod later on.

Poppy was at a table lazily flipping through the pages of the scrapbook.

Branch sat across from her, surprised that she looked so deflated.

Without saying anything, Poppy pushed the scrapbook over for Branch to see.

Branch looked over a few pages.

“Wait? You've already planned everything?”

“No. Satin and Chenille made it.”

“And you're upset? Are their ideas that bad?

“No it's not that…” she looked away.

Branch put the book aside and took her hands into his.

“What is it you usually say to me? If you're having feelings, you can talk about them with me.”

Poppy sighed.

“It’s just…a lot”

Branch nodded encouragingly.

“Go on.”

“Look at it, Branch. Everyone is so excited for our wedding! Everyone is expecting a huge thing and we haven't even begun to plan anything yet!”

“You've never had trouble planning things like this before.”

“This is different. It's not just about me this time.”

Branch thought her words over.

“You're worried about me.”

Poppy looked over to him with almost apologetic eyes.

Branch smiled and leaned in close to whisper.

“Poppy, I don't know if you know this about me but…”

Poppy leaned her ear in.

���-Sometimes I over prepare for things.”

Poppy blinked at him then burst into silly giggles.

Branch smiled proudly that he was able to get her to laugh like this.

“Poppy when I proposed, I knew exactly who I was proposing to. I know what I'm getting myself into. So, individually handcrafted invitations? Coordinated dance numbers? Napkins matching the flowers? Each guest's face painted onto the cake?-”

“You're just giving me ideas now.”

“I’m saying that I want all of that with you.”

“...Really?” 

“I get to marry my best friend. We've been through a lot together and I think we should have the celebration we deserve.”

“It’s your wedding too. I don't want you to get overwhelmed just to make me happy. You don't think it's going to be too over the top?”

“I know it's going to be over the top! I'm fully prepared for that and happy to help in any way I can to go over the top with this. Let's really go ‘Poppy’ on this thing.” he smirked.

Poppy snort laughed at his word choice.

“You'll let me know it's too much?”

“Don't I always?”

Poppy narrowed her eyes skeptically. A cheeky grin spread across her face 

“How ‘Poppy’ are we talking?”

“I want you to go ‘Full Poppy’.”

“You do know what you're letting into the world, right?”

Branch kissed her hand then looked deep into her eyes.

“Let’s throw the biggest, loudest, craziest party ever.”

Poppy poked his chest.

“Keep saying things like that and we aren't gonna last until the honeymoon mister.” she growled.

Poppy smooched his cheek gratefully before she grabbed the scrapbook and took off to find Satin and Chenille.

It wasn't until she was out of sight that his eyes widened with the realization of what she was implying.

And Branch's lovestruck face flushed red.

[revalition]

OCT 16 - PAIN THRESHOLD Shrug off the pain. They’ll have to hurt you more.

I love this guy a lot! even if he has some really questionable advice. I ended up dumping a lot of points into him in my first playthrough!

really simple drawings today, I've had a pretty bad headache all day. which you'd think would allow me to channel the pain threshold vibe better! but it really didn't. sadly the amount of love I hold for a skill doesn't necessarily correlate with how much effort I can put into drawing them (with a few exceptions lol). the one on the right was an old sketch I coloured... it was a relief I already had a halfway decent design for him haha

lots of quotes under the cut as usual!

pain threshold!!

fun fact - he does not refer to you as harry once. however he does call you: - pal - baby - son - buddy - man and none of these more than once. weirdo

PT also has the most anti-passives (passive failures) out of the skills, by a large margin. He has 31, second place has 19. He also has 3rd least passive checks.

quotes:

these two idiots!! causing mental and physical damage with their screaming... H/E coordination trying to reel it back in

<3 (this heals endurance!)

actual idiot skill

dudeee

he's so funny. he's fucking got this.

dying here

nooo

sigh

super normal.

he's a sad, sad guy

if you haven't been told yet that he has depression PT can figure it out for you!!! <3

sad PT in the final dream :(

this one too

he knows! he recognizes *fake pain*

dialogue after failing to save ruby... urgh

I really like this. 'A race to beat your own heart's pulse to some dark finish line.'

as always this is amazing.

:((( this is re: pawnshop roy

hehe

this one is always delightful. he has a sense of humour sometimes!

this whole scene was a mess, but this line in particular... I don't know, it just stuck with me. It's very vivid.

honestly, true

lol

sometimes these skills say some unhinged stuff, sheesh

poor guy, he's so sad

:(((

this one is brutal.

this guy has *issues*

ending it on this very important one!!! please look! during the last dream pain threshold tells you to pick the dialogue option that will cause her to leave and the dream to end... and volition tells you to keep dragging it on. hghh guys...

pain threshold is quite something. there are lots of instances of him telling you something painful feels good, or encourages you to do something that will hurt (both physically and emotionally). he also leads the finger on the eject button thought dialogue. My first playthrough I had FYS of 4 and I ended up dumping a ton of points in to PT cause I was fascinated by him. But I also had mega high volition cause I adored him too. they definitely did not have the same goals...

the first time I remember hearing from my personal PT, we were bowling and my wrist was really starting to hurt. and he was like, you should keep playing. thanks bro :/

anyway that's all. for tomorrow, physical instrument's design isnt super exciting to me, but I do have a bunch of good quotes picked. I can make a coach calling people a binoclard compilation...

[yourdearestenemyluke]

Here is my theory on how lucerys & aemond's costumes were absolutely supposed to be coordinating in episode 10, (i say absolutely but then again its a theory) there's a very obvious pattern in costuming of the kids in this episode & it comes to a harmony when aemond & luke meet in the end (which later breaks obviously)

Minutes before the Storm's end scene we see jacaerys and lucerys in the halves of the targeryen colours, luke being the red half of their colours is established here and jace as the black half

Sometime before, that we also see baela standing in jace's red half of the colours and rhaena standing in the back half with luke's and complementing the colours. The positioning and the fact baela is the only one with new costume, only to end beside jacaerys to make up his red half and rhaena luke's black half.

Velaryon boys who are targaryen through and through are in both the colours through out the episode, before they are assigned their own halves of the targeryen colours when they leave as envoys.

So far it's clear there's a costume coordination between characters which ends up in them completing the colours of targaryen sigil.

The fact ewan says aemond wears targeryen black to make himself seem and feel more like a targeryen is something that stuck out to me

he probably got his detail from condall or costume designer, but targ colours aren't just black, it's red and black, aemond is missing the red

With episode ten when aemond and lucerys meet they are decked in colours that make up the colours of the targ sigil but put on different sides, physically opposite side as well as in the conflict. And additionlly aemond loss of reason due to his desire for vengeance makes him blind to the fact luke is a targaryen too

Aemond is blind to his other half basically is what I'm saying. And I don't think they necesarily meant it romantically, I'm not delusional enough to push ship beliefs on show runners but I definitely it visually portrays house of the dragon dividing itself because of outsiders

Aemond and lucerys are one of the many pairings in the show the most broken relationships due to some irreversible emotional (& physical) damage caused to one another, the eye and bastard aligations. Neither are willing to take the first step but I don't think they're unwilling either..will complete that thought when I get to the dinner part but at the end we know ameond never meant any serious damage to luke, he didn't hate him enough to kill him or even want him dead...

[cyberrose2001]

Hello! I would like to request a TFP Ratchet's or Knockout's reaction on their female human reader that wanted to try and drink energon and now she has her insides glowing like very strong blue color and feels very guilty about it. Like her heart glows blue her intestines, lungs etc.😭❤️

Just a dumb lil idea. If you don't like it you don't have to write anything. Feel free <3

TFP Ratchet + TFP Knockout's reaction to their human s/o wanting to try energon

hi!!! thanks for requesting! ❤️ this was fun to write heheh, word of advice to you friend, don't drink energon!!! it does not taste as good as it looks!!! hope this is satisfactory!

Warnings: Emetophobia, small mention of needles

Word count: 1772

TFP Ratchet

You were perched on Ratchet’s shoulder, watching your significant other as he works on the main computer. He seems so concentrated that you were sure he forgot you were there with him, but you were reassured when every now and then he would glance his optics to you, making sure you weren’t going to slide off him. Ratchet sighs as he picks up the jar of energon sitting off to the side, holding it up to his dermas and takes a swig. For some reason you were intrigued by the glowing blue liquid, wondering what it might taste like, or if it tasted like anything.

“Ratchet, what does energon taste like?” You ask him, watching as he wipes the remaining drops of energon on his dermas off with his arm. He perks up, a questioning look on his faceplates.

“It is most certainly something that you humans cannot digest.” Ratchet says as he places the jar back to where it was on the console, he looks back to you, “But if you insist, it tastes rather sweet. Like what you would call ‘honey’, but not as thick. It was engineered that way to make it more palatable.”

You nod, looking back to the jar. You jump out of your skin when you hear the commlink on the computer going off, but Ratchet reaches a servo to your thighs, stabilising you.

“Ratchet, we require immediate medical attention. Bring your med kit.”

“I’m on my way.” Ratchet answers. He gently picks you up from his shoulder, giving you a quick kiss to your lips as he always does when he is called to duty, “Stay here, I’ll be back soon enough.”

“Alright…” You sigh as he places you down on the catwalk, watching as he opens a ground bridge to Optimus’s coordinates. You’re now left on your own in the base. You look back to the seemingly innocent jar of energon still sitting on the console.

“One little taste can’t hurt, right?”

-

You were totally wrong, so very wrong. In fact, you were sure that Ratchet would kill you when he sees that your whole entire body is glowing a bright blue colour. You had no idea what the effects of energon were on human body, but now you know, and you regret tipping over the jar and scooping the liquid into your mouth. Also, Ratchet is a total liar, it did not taste like honey.

You panic as you hear the sound of pedes coming through the still open ground bridge. You watch as Ratchet and the rest of team prime enter the base. Ratchets optics are blown wide as he sees your body now glowing, he runs over to you and gently scoops you up in his servo.

“(Y/n)!” Ratchets scans his optics over you, “What’s happened to you?”

You say nothing, shoulders hunched over with arms wrapped around your stomach. Ratchet is extremely concerned, but he shifts his eyes over to the console, energon spilled everywhere. Ratchet gasps as he put two and two together and narrows his optics on you.

“What part of ‘humans cannot digest’ did you not understand, (Y/n)?!” Ratchet is the one panicking now. He rushes you over to the med-bay, sitting you on one of the gurneys he managed to get for human casualties. He pulls out his scanner and runs a diagnostic over your entire body, you groan as he does so, feeling extremely nauseous now. He orders you to stick out your tongue, gasping as he sees it also glowing a bright blue.

“By the all spark,” Ratchet breathes. The others had congregated around the med-bay, also concerned with your current predicament, “Your whole entire body is glowing blue with energon, even your own heart.”

You sit up suddenly, leaning over the gurney and throwing up the glowing contents of your stomach on the concrete floor. The other members of team prime cringed as you did so, but Ratchet kneeled next to you, rubbing your back softly.

“Ratchet…” You groan, spitting out the remaining drops of energon still sitting in your mouth, “I’m sorry… I was just curious… I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

“(Y/n), I told you.” Ratchet rubs his optics with his free servo, “Energon is toxic when exposed to humans in large quantities, you’re lucky to be alive right now. Fortunately, it seems that you have just… expelled most if not all the energon remaining in your stomach.”

You look up at him with glowing iris’s, “Does that mean I’ll be ok?”

Ratchet hums as he nods his helm, still heavily concerned for his human conjunx, “Hopefully, but you are not leaving this med bay nor leaving my sight until the rest of the energon wears off.”

You give him a half laugh, body still shaking from being nauseous, “Hah, not the best date night I’ve had in mind.”

Ratchet rolls his optics, scoffing, but then gives you a playful smile and leans down to kiss your head, “There will be no more ‘date nights’ for you if you ever try to drink energon again.”

TFP Knockout

Life can get pretty exciting being the so called ‘human pet’ of Knockout, the nickname being given to you by the other Decepticons. You didn’t mind though as Knockout was prepared to turn them into his next experiment if they ever decide to put their servos on you, just another benefit of being his conjunx.

One downside, however, is your exposure to tons and tons of substances on the Decepticon war ship that are toxic to your squishy body. Knockout tries his best to keep them out of your reach so you don’t accidentally come into contact with them, but there’s one that he can’t hide that is in constant use on the Nemesis.

Energon, as they call it. To you it looks like it could be candy, or a blue raspberry cocktail. But Knockout strongly advised you not to touch it for good reasons, it will probably kill you.

But here you are, in Knockout’s medical unit, purposely going against his orders. You managed to drag one of the large energon cubes over onto his large desk, attempting to pry it open. With much difficulty, the lid popped giving you access to a motherload of energon at your fingertips. You were lucky that Knockout was out on battlefield duty, or he would absolutely flip is shit.

Hesitantly, you cup some of the energon into your hands and bring it up to your lips. It feels like little shocks of electricity on your skin and tongue as it glides down your throat. You shiver as you swallow, definitely not a cocktail. The rest of the energon falls from your hands onto the desk as you feel yourself become queasy, your body’s attempt to advise you on what you just did was a terrible idea. You dropped to the floor as you become unconscious.

-

“Tsk, those Autobots.” Knockout clicks his glossa as he returns to the Nemesis, scratches on his red frame leaking with energon, “That was the last time they will get the opportunity to ruin my paint job.”

He rushes through the long corridors of the ship, eager to return to his beloved human and to get some energon into him. He had never thought that he would ever be romantically invested in a human, but after he captured you for interfering with Decepticon affairs, you had grown on him. It was a surprise to him when one day you confessed to him, and even more of a surprise when he accepted you as his human conjunx.

He arrives to his medical unit, optics glancing around for any spare energon cubes. He successfully finds one, but its open. He quirks his optical ridges, “That’s weird, I never left that there.”

Knockout walks up to the cube and picks it up, he shrugs his frame and downs the whole thing. But does a spit-take when he sees you unconscious on the table, skin glowing a bright blue. His red optics wide as drops the empty cube from his servos, shattering on the floor.

“(Y/n)?!” Knockout exclaims, scooping you up in his servos, “Sweetspark?”

He sighs in relief when he hears a groan escape from you, knowing that you’re not dead. You squint your eyes and place a hand on your throbbing head, but you gasp as you noticed your entire arm is glowing blue, “Knockout?”

“You drank energon, didn’t you?” Knockout narrows his optics on your body, scanning you with his optics looking for any signs of internal damage. He notices that your intestines are glowing bright blue, confirming his suspicions, “I told you specifically not to touch it! That stuff is highly poisonous for you little squishy’s!”

You groan, flopping onto your back in his servo, “I’m sorry, OK? I couldn’t help myself.”

“For Primus sake, it’s a wonder how you humans manage to survive at all.” Knockout rolls his optics, he places you back onto the table, “You’re lucky that I love you enough to have already made a cure for this.”

Knockout pulls out a syringe from one of his storage compartments under the desk, it’s filled with a black liquid. Your glowing eyes shoot open as you realise that he might jab you.

“Calm down, babe.” He shakes his helm, softly chuckling at your reaction, “There’s nothing sharp attached to it, it’s a mixture of ingredients designed to absorb and neutralise any toxic substances in your stomach. Learned it from you humans, activated charcoal.”

“You want me to drink that?” You questioned him, weakly lifting your head from the table. Knockout rolls his optics again for what feels like the hundredth time that day.

“You drank the energon,” Knockout scoops you up, pressing the tube of liquid to your lips, “What makes you think you can’t drink this?”

You try not to gag as he forces the liquid down your throat, but you drink all of it, trusting him. You shutter at the taste, somehow it was even worse than the energon, “There, happy? I drank your stupid charcoal.”

Knockout nods his helm in satisfaction, “Good, let this be a reminder to never drink energon again, hm?”

You nod your head in agreement, giving him a weak thumbs up, “Don’t have to worry about that ever again, Doc.”

Knockout huffs, then gives you a gentle kiss on your head, “Although, it is rather amusing that the energon makes your whole body turn blue.”

“I may have to conduct some experimenting on you later.” He continues, giving you a wink.

“Don’t even think about it!”

[portalhan]

૮♡૮ )o zZz . . LIVING TOGETHER WITH HWANG HYUNJIN!

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn!reader

format: bullet-form headcanons

themes: domestic nonsense <3, established relationships, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k

fae's notes: the first of my 'living together' headcanon series! chose to do hyunjin's first because i've been so down bad for him lately 🧎🏻‍♀️ gonna be working on the remaining members' versions soon ~

check out the other parts of the series: minho | coming soon...

(∗˃̶ ᵕ ˂̶∗) portalhan's masterlist

( ˘ ᵕ˘(˘ᵕ ˘) . . A.M

the both of you aren't exactly morning people. despite being working adults with actual places to be at 10am in the morning, you and hyunjin would always bargain for extra shut-eye time. every single time the slightest rays of sun would peek through the blinds, hyunjin would groan softly and pull the covers over both your heads. you—being the more responsible one—would always mumble something about needing to get up while simultaneously being half awake, to which hyunjin would grumble something back about how he really needed the extra 10 minutes or he'd shrivel up into a dry raisin.

when you do finally get up though, you'd honestly quietly give in to hyunjin and leave him like 15 more minutes to sleep. in the meantime, you'd head straight to the kitchen to make breakfast and lunch for the both of you, right after freshening up. hyunjin absolutely loves anything you cook for him—"how could i not? my baby made this with so much love," he cooed once, while absolutely covering every inch of your face with little kisses. every morning like clockwork, he trudges out of the bedroom with his hair in a complete mess, eyes only half open from the puffiness, and engulfs you in the biggest bear hug from behind as you pack the food into cute little lunchboxes for him.

if he still doesn't leave bed even when the aroma of breakfast is practically wafting into your room, you'd usually yell at him from the kitchen, and it goes something like this:

"hyunjin, i made breakfast! come eat it while it's still warm."

"when i agreed to this 'moving-in-together' thing, i thought we made it clear that i will not be out of bed before 8am."

"i made pancakes."

"i'm coming."

hyunjin loves getting ready together with you. he considers it one of the only few morsels of time he gets to completely spend with you on a weekday, so he makes sure to always cherish it. as cheesy as it is (and you always make sure to tell him), he also always tries to colour coordinate his outfits with yours. he always says something along the lines of, "it makes me feel closer to you even when we're far apart!", so you can't really say no (you secretly enjoy it, but he would never live it down if you ever told him that).

you would then walk to the nearby train station together. both your places of work were on opposite ends of the same line, so you'd part ways there. hyunjin loves pulling you in by the waist and kissing your cheek before saying goodbye, he also sometimes makes a huge deal about leaving your side when he's in an especially good mood. once, he pretended he was the wicked witch of the west but after getting splashed with a bucket of water and melting in the middle of the platform. he also started shrieking, "don't go!" in an eldery lady voice. hyunjin loves making you laugh as much as he loves embarrassing you in public!

( ˘ ᵕ˘(˘ᵕ ˘) . . P.M

obviously, before you and hyunjin are lovers, you are best friends. that means that you both spend the majority of your time apart texting each other updates. you'd send pictures of new knick-knacks you got for him on your lunch break and he'd send you the empty lunch box you packed for him to tell you how much he enjoyed your food. he also loves when you text him updates on the latest office goss—he may not know these people personally, but he for sure knows their deepest darkest secrets, thanks to you. but hyunjin takes comfort in knowing that you think about him even while you're busy at work with whatever huge project you're working on. it may be seemingly insignificant, but to him, every message means a lot.

much like how you part in the morning, you would always arrange to meet hyunjin on the same train platform every evening. you had similar shift times, which meant that you could easily wait for each other and head home together. he usually arrives only slightly later than you do, but every single time the train doors open to the platform, he'd rush out with his arms stretched out and hug you as if he hasn't seen you in 10 years. again, he loves making you laugh as much as he loves embarrassing you in public. it really depends on the day (and how you both are feeling, of course), but you'd either walk home together from there or head elsewhere for dinner and the occasional dessert.

once you guys have dinner though, you would both sink into the couch and continue watching whatever you both are binge-watching at the moment on netflix. you two loooove snuggling beneath a heated blanket while doing so too, especially in the colder months. you and hyunjin are also huge cry babies—every time something sad happened on screen, the entire couch (and maybe even the floor surrounding it) would be littered with used tissues. hyunjin also likes to snack while watching tv and he really loves matcha ice cream, so you always make sure that at least a pint of his favourite brand is stocked in your freezer at all times.

a bit controversial, but you absolutely enjoy doing the daily household chores with hyunjin. you split the load pretty evenly—you'd take care of the laundry while he cleans the floors. hyunjin always puts whatever playlist he's been listening to on the speaker before you start, so the routine would never be boring. most of the time, it would end with you two just dancing together in the middle of the living room with a cheeky glass of red wine each, laughing profusely at each other while hyunjin sings the lyrics to you.

that being said, you and hyunjin do bicker a lot at home, but it never escalates to more than just petty squabble. this is what your bickering would really sound like:

"hyunjin, baby, where did you put the candles i bought last weekend?"

"i'll tell you if you tell me what happened to my favourite underwear?"

"i already told you i don't know wha—"

to be frank, you give him his own share of problems too—you absolutely hate doing the dishes. and then you'd argue like this:

"it's your turn to do the dishes, y/n."

"i'm filing for a divorce."

"we aren't even married yet, baby."

"well, we definitely aren't getting married now!"

( ˘ ᵕ˘(˘ᵕ ˘) . . WEEKENDS & DAYS OFF

hyunjin always looks forward to weekends with you! he absolutely loves being adventurous when it comes to dates and always has new things he wants to try, and the only person he ever wants to share that experience with is you. pottery and tufting classes, roller skating or just simple, quiet days of cafe-hopping around the city... every weekend is something new for the both of you to look forward to, and no matter the activity, hyunjin knew that anything would be amazing as long as he's doing it with you.

but of course, you and hyunjin would have your quiet weekends, too. since you both absolutely loved sleep, you'd indulge yourselves by sleeping in till noon on certain weekends. there's something so magical about waking up when your body actually wants to wake up, and opening your crusty eyes to see hyunjin fast asleep, lips slightly ajar as you feel his steady breaths against your ears.

his arms would usually be wrapped around you too, legs tangled and hair in a complete, irreversible mess. the thing about hyunjin is that he's a bit of a quirky sleeper: he not only snores very slightly, he also has vivid dreams and talks in his sleep. you love hearing him sleep-talk though, just because the way he does it is so adorable—his words would obviously be slurred, drool slightly coating the corners of his mouth, sentences coming out haphazardly without any context.

if he was especially tired, he'd even sleep-gesture. like his actual hands would reach out if he was dreaming about grabbing something. on certain nights, it would be a little elaborate too—once, he started doing a bike-riding motion in bed, on his back. when you asked him about it the next morning, he confirmed it was because he was dreaming of riding some bike. he's always a bit sheepish about the weird things he does while unconscious and always apologises for waking you up like this, but you genuinely don't mind—in fact, you always thought it was adorable. if you didn't like one thing about it, it would be that you could never laugh when it actually happened, because then it would wake hyunjin up.

[ohnococo]

Gunshow |Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader

Summary: Reader settles in for a quiet night of people watching, deals with some unwanted advances, and has an encounter with a very handsome and very dangerous man.

Notes: Toji fucks reader with a gun, don't say I didn't warn you.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Gunplay/Gun Kink, Porn With Plot, Bad Flirting, Some OCs, Violence, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, One Night Stands, People Watching

MINORS DNI/18+ ONLY

As you enter your local haunt, the crowd is a predictable mix of familiar faces, familiar faces plus one, and a decent helping of newbies either on their own or in intimate gatherings. It’s a nice place to spend a weeknight, somewhere to unwind and at least be around other people, even if you have no intention of speaking to any of them. Besides, it feels a little less lonely to drink in a room of strangers versus on your own. A more acceptable way to put an end to a stressful day - in your mind at least.

Just like many evenings before this one, you order a drink, pay, and gesture to a table once the bartender starts on your drink. It's a nice spot near enough to the bar but far enough from the entrance that the cool night air won’t reach you as people come and go, and you’re grateful it’s still available for you despite the prime location. Once seated and waiting, your evening ritual starts as it always does: you open your book, tucking the receipt you’d used as a bookmark somewhere into the back pages, and make a start at the chapter you’d left off at.

It’s a formality, really, a display of productivity even in the face of the inevitable. Soon enough the inevitable meets you head on as you find yourself scanning the same paragraphs over and over, not quite processing them, before you give in to people watching as you always do. The thought flutters through your distracted mind of if the other regulars noticed how long you seemed to be stuck on the same book, but you didn’t really mind them making the same kinds of judgements about you that you did about them. It was only fair that you might entertain them as others had entertained you.

Your small but harmless voyeuristic streak puts you in good company in a place like this, there were always a few people dotted around here going in and out of their own little worlds - readers, writers, first dates, late night workers softening the sting of excessive overtime with a drink to nurse through the hours. Perfectly anonymous but perfectly friendly. So you lower the book to rest on the table, still holding it open for the sake of pretence, and take in tonight’s crowd in closer detail.

Vodka Cran, the university student who usually came in earlier in the night to finish up work, and ended her session with a vodka cran as a post-work pregame. She was originally Rainbow Glasses to you because of her habit of coordinating her rotating pairs of oversized glasses to her colourful outfits, but in the end Vodka Cran just sounded cuter.

First Date Andy, the guy who brought all of his first dates here. You were rooting for him, you really were, especially for the dates that he was extra fidgety for. Unfortunately the lack of confidence was always palpable, even from across the bar.

The Debbies, a group of older women who met weekly for a quiet chat and a few G&Ts. Their namesake was more their actual names as at least two of them would be greeted with a cheery “hiya Deb!”

Then you moved onto the less familiar faces, looking for someone who might be somewhat interesting: another student looking bleary-eyed and typing away on his laptop, a businessman with his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair scrolling through his full-brightness phone, an older woman with a glass of barely-touched wine staring out at the streetlights through the front of the establishment.

Then, your eyes settle on a man perched atop one of the stools at the tall tables in the back of the bar. His appearance is striking enough that your glances become much less covert. He isn’t doing anything inherently more interesting than anyone else there, just sitting alone with a drink in his hand and reading through something on his phone. Still, you find yourself immediately captivated.

People watching very rarely turned into ogling for you but this time you just can’t help yourself, only moving your eyes away when the bartender sets your drink down in front of you, on top of a small black cocktail napkin. You thank them, shutting your book and forgetting to move your makeshift bookmark back in place as you do, sliding the drink in front of you to cradle your hands round as you peek back at the man. You counted yourself lucky that you already happened to be sitting facing him or you’d have embarrassed yourself with how your eyes looked him up and down, you were even more lucky that he was sitting so you were only seeing him from the side, head on and he surely could have noticed the intensity of your gaze.

Even in profile he’s eye-catching: tall, dressed casually in all black, dark hair only kept out of his eyes by his long lashes, but most of all you notice just how strong he looks. His shirt isn’t even that tight, hanging loosely over what you just know would be a trim waist, but his shoulders and arms are absolutely making themselves a spectacle, pulling the fabric taut over their girth. Unwilling to fully give in to being a creep, you force your attention back onto his face and you can just make out a small scar across his lips. You wonder how he got it, mind ready to build little stories around him as it did with most strangers.

Had he gotten into a fight? Maybe the scar was proof they weren’t just glamour muscles and that he knew just how to use them. Surely he was strong enough to beat most anyone? Or maybe he fell out of a tall tree as a kid, was he the adventurous type? Your thoughts are halted as he glances over in your direction and you quickly avert your gaze, looking towards the entrance as you take a sip of your drink.

While you busy yourself looking elsewhere, your heart beats a little faster: both from how attractive the newcomer is and from the embarrassment of nearly being caught watching him. Even as you glance around the room in the general direction of others, your mind is on him. You’d have liked to have seen what the man ordered to drink, to maybe use that to make a slightly different judgement on his character and redeem yourself for objectifying a complete stranger, but his hands were large enough that they’d been obscuring the liquid in the glass he had in front of him. At the end of the day though, people watching was very much a superficial sport, so the man’s incredible physique remains the basis of his nickname tonight (and possibly future nights, should you be lucky enough to ogle him again). Gunshow.

Just as you start to risk glancing back in Gunshow’s direction, the door to the bar opens and in walks a man already making a spectacle of himself. He’s small, red-faced, dressed in what you assume is his finest night out attire, and smiling as though he’d already been cackling at whatever internal monologue was driving his actions - all things you objectively have no problem with. You understand just how many possibly unfair judgments you could sit there making of people and try to generally keep any nicknames positive, but you have a hunch the man isn’t deserving of such grace as he makes his way to the bar, smacks his hand against it impatiently, and asks for “something expensive.”

Everything about him seems to telegraph that he had not picked up on the vibe of the place he was walking into.

It happens occasionally, this is a place that serves alcohol and is open fairly late into the night. People stumble in mid bar crawl, having wandered a block or so away from where the real nightlife is around here. Or someone gets a little far into their pregame before moving onto a more lively location. Eventually though, they leave. It’s a fine place for quiet nights and introverts, not so much for someone looking to party. You can only hope he’ll get the picture sooner rather than later so you can return to your more pleasant daydreams.

As he waits for his drink, he turns his attention to the nearest pair of girls, sending a double brow raise and a small greeting of a head tilt in their direction. He doesn’t seem to notice that the attention is not returned as he receives his drink and throws a few bills on the bar instead of placing it in the barkeep’s waiting hand. He finishes half the drink in the few steps it takes for him to insert himself into the group, and your nickname is solidified. Dickhead.

Even halfway across the room you can hear him asking how they’re doing, directing compliments on their bodies at no specific person, casting a wide net. Though much younger than him, the girls waste no time entertaining his antics. One girl moves herself to stand slightly in front of the other, and whatever she says has him frowning, lower lip poked out as he gives his best puppy dog eyes. He seems to start bargaining as the other girl shakes her head, rolling her eyes and waving him away. Finally, the first girl puts her hand in his face, loudly and firmly dismissing him.

Fortunately the direct approach works as he backs away, tossing out a retraction to his earlier unwanted compliments as the girls ignore him. Unfortunately for every other female-presenting person in the bar his confidence doesn’t quite seem to be knocked as he then approaches another patron. This time it’s a girl who is alone and seems to have been actually reading, unlike you. He seats himself in front of her, waving his hand between her face and her book and beginning a second attempt.

Even with how much of a show Dickhead is making of himself, you find it easy to look away from him when you feel your twinge of annoyance at the antics start to add an unpleasant edge to the relaxing you’d come out to do. Scanning across the crowd you see those in the room who weren’t locked in conversation sneaking furtive glances at him too, probably also hoping the man would leave sooner rather than later. Resting your eyes on the spot you’d given a bit too much focus on earlier you’re slightly disappointed to find the seat empty, but the smallest bit of excitement simmers in your stomach when you see the drink was basically full. Maybe Gunshow would come back? Had he gone to the bathroom? Or dipped out for a cigarette? Would the smell of smoke put you off approaching him?

You smile to yourself for entertaining the thought, as though you might have eventually built up the motivation to go speak to him. Not here, not tonight (not any night). There were already enough unwanted advances being thrown around.

The squeak of a chair dragging across the floor pulls you from your thoughts and you see the woman Dickhead was speaking to stand and begin tucking her book back into her bag. He’s still talking even as she prepares to leave until she takes a page out of the earlier girl’s book, putting her hand up in his face and loudly asserting that she had a boyfriend. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, but at least it seemed to get the man to give her another sad look and leave her be as she walks out in a huff. You avert your gaze, as do most women near you, turning their attention back to their books, phones, or friends, as you all are briefly connected with an unspoken wish that the guy would leave you all the fuck alone.

His eyes lock with yours for just a second as you take a gravely miscalculated risk trying to see what his next move was and you groan as you look down, already caught as he begins approaching you. You didn’t appreciate a spot on this guy’s hit list any more than you’d appreciated him completely wrecking the usual soothing hum of low chatter that had come to be your favourite way to unwind for months now.

“Heyyyy.”

With just that one greeting it’s as if he’s speaking to you like he knows you. He certainly doesn’t know you, and won’t be getting to know you tonight as you’re quick to show him you aren’t willing to entertain him. You give him a once over fast enough to show he wasn’t worth looking at much longer than that before rolling your eyes as you fix them in a general direction clearly away from him. As with the others before you, he doesn’t get the memo (or more likely chooses to ignore it) and sets the remains of his drink down at your table before seating himself across from you.

“Want a drink?” The previous handful of rejections have somehow made him bolder as he waves his hand towards the bar before you even have a chance to reply.

“I have a drink.” You shake your head at the approaching bartender, who shrugs and goes back to leaning against the bar.

“Aw, too bad. I got money to burn tonight.” It was said with a happy lilt that made it clear he thought the mention of money would certainly win you over. It did not.

“Go burn it somewhere else.”

He laughs like you made some kind of joke, or like he wasn’t even listening, then tries to rest his hand on yours. He doesn’t get the chance to make contact before you’re snatching your hand away and putting it in his face, effectively serving him a hattrick of similar rejections. “I’m trying to have a quiet night, so you can leave me alone now.”

“All alone? In a bar? C’mon now.”

You serve him yet another eyeroll, accompanied by a scoff for good measure. “I’m not interested. I’m not going to be interested. So let me finish my drink. Alone.”

“You got a boyfriend or something?”

“No, and I don’t want one.”

“How about just a friend?”

You’ve had enough, so you say your mental goodbyes as you collect your things - goodbye to the calm evening intended to clear your head, goodbye to the other half of your drink, goodbye Gunshow, and definitely goodbye to Dickhead. Unfortunately Dickhead decides he won’t take a third rejection and stands too, starting to follow you as you walk out - unashamed of basically begging his way right through the bar even as you approach the door.

“I just wanna talk.”

You’re so focused on getting out (and hopefully not having to take the long and loud route home to avoid this asshole following you) that you don’t even notice the man heading you both off at the pass, making himself known once your hand touches the handle of the door.

“I don’t think they want to talk to you.”

The voice has both you and Dickhead snapping your heads to look at who had decided to join your conversation, and Dickhead is a fraction enough quicker that you see the terror on his face before you turn to see Gunshow had indeed returned. And returned to save you an even bigger hassle than you were already dealing with, it seemed.

“How about the two of us talk instead?” Gunshow puts his hand on Dickhead’s shoulder, just shy of his neck. It’s as if he’s grabbing him by the scruff as the smaller man is immediately overcome with a barely perceptible tremor.

“I- I-“ he’s suddenly much less wordy, apparently not so brave when dealing with other men.

“Let’s go.” Gunshow guides the man out the door, and you’re left standing in the bar just as shocked and confused as Dickhead looks as he’s pushed out the door. As the door slowly shuts behind them, Gunshow shoots you a smile that has the blood rushing to your face as he gives his parting words, “You have a good night.”

The door closes, and with them walking away it’s as if the half of the bar breathes a collective sigh of relief and returns to their evening, something you’re now free to do as well thanks to the mysterious man.

You stand there, stuck between two minds. What would happen to Dickhead? Would he just get walked down the block and told to fuck off? Or herded to a bar much more likely to match his energy for the evening? Somehow there was something more to that interaction than met the eye, like it wasn’t just Gunshow being a Good Samaritan. You know you should just sit back down and continue your evening as planned, content with wondering over the event until it becomes a footnote. Then again, you’d never been one to mind your business, so you make your mind up to satisfy your curiosity of at least seeing where they were going and walk out into the night.

As you look down the empty street, wondering if they’d already turned down one of the many side roads, a million thoughts rush through your head. What would you say if you did catch up to them? ‘Thank you’ to Gunshow and ‘Fuck you’ to Dickhead? Were you just going to ruin the mystique of the man? Had he really come to save you? Of the thoughts you’d toyed with surrounding the man’s character, should knight in shining armour have been one of them?

Then, you hear a loud clang and a man yelping, followed by what you could already recognize as Gunshow.

“You’re really out here spending my money?”

Oh.

That makes the interaction seem less heroic and more frightening, as the logical side of your brain tries to will you to turn around and take the long way home. Instead, you take unsteady steps towards where the sound came from, the side alley next to the bar, until you freeze as you peek round the corner and the two men come into view.

Dickhead was lying against a dumpster, dented from what was presumably the impact you’d just heard before. Gunshow was standing over him, letting out a sigh not dissimilar to each of the women he’d already wasted the time of this evening. He backhands him - a move so small that still manages to leave the man bleeding. How much money had this man taken that he was getting his ass beat about 4 feet from a public street?

“What the fuck, what the fuck-“ he’s frantic, taking the pause in violence as a chance to speak, “Were you following me?!”

Gunshow is only amused, “Actually, no. I hadn’t gotten around to that yet.” He crouches down slowly, and Dickhead puts his hands out as if that alone would stop him. “But here you are.”

“Look I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you, I just knew I was supposed to meet someone to give them the rest of the money and-“

“And ran off instead?”

Gunshow laughs, amused by his audacity. Dickhead laughs too, as if silently forced, but his eyes remain steady on the larger man in front of him, terrified.

“Toji I mean it, I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it was-“

Gunshow, or Toji as you’d now learned, backhands Dickhead again and it occurs to you that with this information it was probably time to back away slowly. Instead, you pause a moment more as Toji takes out his annoyance on the man in front of him. You’d seen your share of violence before, drunken brawls especially, but this was different. The man was calm, almost too calm, but then again it seemed just that easy as he left the man beneath him bloodied with just a few open-handed slaps.

Worryingly, you can’t quite find the will to walk away. Even more worryingly, as Gunshow’s muscles tense and flex with each hit, forearms freed from the sleeves he must’ve rolled up while dragging Dickhead around the corner, you find the previous wave of fear draining away for something very much not in line with self preservation. It isn’t the time for people-watching, and it absolutely isn’t the time for being so unbelievably thirsty but your feet aren’t becoming any less glued to their spot.

Dickhead seems to not have the same hesitation as he gathers the strength within the barrage of hits he was taking to try and run, only to be grabbed by his shirt and hauled up to meet Toji’s eyes.

Any sense of satisfaction you might have gotten out of Dickhead being put in his place is drowned in fear that you would be a potential witness to the onslaught as Toji reaches behind himself, pushing his shirt up to pull a gun from his waistband.

It’s as if you’re not in your body, unable to fathom what’s happening in front of you anymore than you can fathom you still sticking around to watch despite very much not wanting to watch a man die.

“You don’t pay people what you owe them, you don’t answer your phone, you harass random women, is there anything about you that isn’t annoying?”

“I can pay you tomorrow, I just have to-“

He moves so fast you only see a flash of metal before the smaller man is sent reeling by the blow, whimpering and putting his hands out to keep his already bloodied face from meeting the pavement. It doesn’t have an opportunity to as he’s caught by the collar of his shirt before he hits the ground. Another pathetic noise is let loose as he’s slammed against the dumpster again.

“You can pay me now. If I have to track you down again, I won’t be this gentle with you.”

He called this gentle?

“You call this gentle!?”

A flash of annoyance briefly overcomes your state of shock as you’re met with a strong distaste for even having a fleeting thought in common with the guy, but the laugh his attacker lets out has you breathless yet again, licking your lips as if you could taste the sound on the air.

“Do you want to find out how rough I can be?” He hits the man again with the gun, not giving him time to recover as the blows continue until he’s screaming out for mercy.

“My coat! It’s in my coat! Please! It’s all in here!” The ‘please’ is unnecessary as Toji is already rifling through his pockets before the sentence is even finished. He takes a few steps back to count the bills he’d collected, surprisingly adept considering he was doing it with a gun still in hand.

He raises a brow as he finishes flipping through the small folded bills and the smaller man is immediately emptying his pants pockets, shaking as he begins uncrumpling the money and attempting to flatten it as much as possible before Toji rips it from his hands and adds it to his handful. “Hm, lucky you.”

He makes a neat stack and folds it before pocketing it, waving the gun in the general direction of the street to dismiss the bleeding man in front of him, who wastes no time in fleeing the alleyway. You back up and try to flatten yourself against the brick facade of the bar as Dickhead exits the alley and trips over his own feet a few times on the way down the road. You’re grateful he hadn’t noticed you as he ran the opposite direction of the corner you were hiding against, and as you take quiet steps back to try to finally leave the scene you realise you were celebrating a bit too soon.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

You freeze, and jump as you look back and see Toji was already rounding the corner, closing the distance between the two of you. There’s a small sense of relief that the gun is nowhere to be seen as he approaches you, but you were only slightly less concerned about what his bare hands could do.

Then, with him now only a few steps away from you, you notice he didn’t look quite as calm as he had from several feet away in the darkened alley. In an instant your mind is hurled back in the direction it was stuck in earlier. With how fit he is you suspect he’s not panting from the exertion. Beating that man was surely no more effort for him than slapping away a gnat would be for you. No, it was all from the excitement. Your eyes were all over him even more intently than they’d been inside, but this time taking in all of the signs that this was nothing but a thrill for him. His dilated pupils, lips curled into a smile, you could swear you could have measured his heart rate from the bulging veins along his arms and - what the fuck? Was he hard?

You can’t believe what you’re seeing, even worse you can’t believe what you’re doing as you don’t even try to stop your eyes from lingering long enough to draw a laugh from the man. The sound is breathy, low, and rumbling - much more relaxed than he now looked.

“Adrenaline will do that.”

“Oh.” You’re not sure what else to say, surely not what was on your mind.

“You scared?”

There was fear intertwined with all of the feelings coursing through your body, but the real thing clouding your judgement was much more potent than that. You shake your head and finally bring your eyes back up to meet his.

“You sure?” He wasn’t convinced, neither were you. But you stand by your words.

“Yeah.”

The hungry smile he flashes has your pussy clenching and you swear he knows it from the way his eyes sparkle at the sight of whatever unknown tells you must have. He takes a deep breath, letting it out with a sense of finality, putting a period on what you’ve just witnessed as he tilts his head towards the door to the bar.

“You can go,” he rests his hand on the waistband of his pants, “if you want.”

He knows you don’t, it’s a formality. A way out, should you want it. The way he loops his thumb into his belt and lets his fingertips hang below, just brushing against the bulge in his pants, feels like an invitation. Though as reckless as you had been so far during this encounter you want a little more assurance you were right to move all caution to the back burner.

“What if I don’t want to go?”

The steps he’d taken earlier were completely silent, but now he lets the full weight of his shoes hitting pavement be heard, ringing in your ears along with all the other thoughts you were ignoring in favour of making bad decisions. “I thought you said you wanted to spend your night alone?”

He’d heard that? “Maybe not.”

Another smile from him, and you must show whatever tell you had again as his smile widens. “What do you want to do then?”

“Come to my place?”

Toji’s brows raise high. “Didn’t take you for the type to bring dangerous men home.”

Something about him being so taken aback has you feeling like you’d won something other than the chance to have a strange man in your home that is as likely to rob or kill you as he was to fuck you. It has you feeling bold, maybe even stupid.

“What type did you take me for?”

“The type to run off once you got your share of watching me. Guess peepin’ in the bar and watching me handle my business wasn’t enough, huh?”

You feel the blood rushing to your face, not expecting to be exposed for your nosiness, but then you hadn’t expected any of the things happening so far tonight. The blood rushes straight back between your legs as Toji puts a hand onto the back of your neck, leaning down til his nose touches yours.

“But if you want to be reckless tonight, who am I to stop you?” His lips brush yours and he stops to let you set the pace. It’s another chance to hesitate, to run, but you’re not interested in that.

Parted lips and a shaky sigh are all he needs from you before he’s pressing himself against you, tongue moving past your lips and into your mouth. There’s a fleeting sense of relief that he doesn’t taste like cigarettes, though the musings you’d had inside the bar were soon miles away as his other hand finds yours and guides you to feel his cock through his pants - big, hard, intimidating, and all you wanted right now. Just like him.

He pulls away and the last of your sense keeps you from whining at your need to have him touching you again before he pulls your mind back on track.

“Your place, right?”

Right.

-

The large hand on your waist as you walk through the darkened streets keeps your mind buzzing with the high of what had happened and what was about to happen. You were grateful for it because you were too excited to risk logic kicking in and reminding you that this was a terrible idea. When you walk past a few people you think of how normal you must look to them if they cared to glance your way - just a couple on a nighttime walk. Maybe heading home from a date night. It makes it that much more thrilling that only the two of you know the true nature of the evening’s events.

So thrilling that as you reach your apartment your last chance to stop yourself from doing something stupid doesn’t even cross your mind. Getting the key in the lock without visibly trembling with anticipation is the closest to a concern that you have.

Once you’re inside and your door is shut and locked he’s on you like he’s as desperate for it as you are. His hands grip your ass hard, pulling you flush against him, mouth on yours, biting at your lips and grinding against you until you’re panting into his mouth. You’re brazen, running your hands over his abs, squeezing at his pecs. His hips are glued to yours so in lieu of getting your hands back on his bulge you wrap them round his hips. You let out a frantic giggle as you grab his ass and find the barest hint of softness before your fingers squeeze and meet the firm muscle beneath, then when you start to move your hands upwards towards his lower back he’s stopping you by the wrists in an instant.

“Ah-“ he chides, letting your wrists go and breaking your frenzied string of kisses. He pulls the gun out from where it had been tucked in the waistband of his trousers, “careful now.”

You hadn’t noticed when he’d put it away earlier, but you certainly hadn’t forgotten about it. The way you practically drool at the sight of it doesn’t go unnoticed and Toji slowly turns it, watching your lashes flutter as the soft glow of the street lights coming in through your windows glimmers along the smooth metal.

“You like guns?”

Apparently tonight you do, with a man like him wielding one. You like it enough that when he brings it towards you and strokes the barrel against your cheek you instinctively turn to press your lips against it, parting them and lightly trailing the tip of your tongue along it. His groans at the sight before him spur you on, and your eyes stay locked onto his as you open wide and lick from hammer to muzzle.

When you take it into your mouth, he sucks air in through his teeth. “It’s loaded…”

The fact that it doesn’t stop you from sucking the cold metal gently, bobbing further down onto it, has Toji baring his teeth, cock twitching against you. His free hand moves to cradle your jaw, backing you further into your apartment until you’re pressed against a wall. He grips you firmly enough to keep the gun from sliding too far towards the back of your throat, but gently enough that once you’re pressed between him and the wall you’re free to bob up and down slowly.

“Tastes good?”

You nod and he pulls the gun from your mouth, replacing it with his tongue. His kisses border on too wet, too rough, but with how worked up you already were you weren’t sure there was really such a thing. The sound of the gun thudding heavily against the wall next to you has your thighs trembling, as he braces himself and roughly tugs at your pants with one hand. You rush to get your shoes off as you help him remove everything, along with your underwear, kicking them off and to the side to give him full access to do whatever he wants with you. When he brings the gun back down and brushes the now warmed barrel against your thigh you’re sure to encourage it with a soft hiss and your hands gripping at his shoulders.

The muzzle stays pointed to the ground as he trails it up and down your skin, smiling as you angle yourself towards it. He licks his lips, swallowing hard as he looks down at you. “I bet you taste good too.”

He strokes the slide of the gun through your folds, and you gasp when the rear sight taps against your swollen clit, well past sensitive and ready.

“You’re kinda fucking crazy, huh?” Maybe you are.

Toji taps the top of the barrel against your pussy and you try not to jump at how heavy it feels against you, even with such controlled strength. When he pulls it back he surveys the wetness you’ve left along it before taking it into his own mouth, deep as he can, sucking your taste off of it. When he pulls it back out he licks his lips, savouring you, and leans in close.

“Me too.”

An attempt to lock lips again is missed as Toji gets down onto his knees in front of you, guiding your legs open wide and sliding the gun against you again. You put your full weight against the wall, already needing the support, and he assists you further by hiking a leg up and over his shoulder. As his tongue presses against your clit his eyes leave yours for what feels like the first time since you’d shut the door behind the two of you. His tongue works in slow circles as he swirls the muzzle against your entrance, squeezing at your thigh. Your hands tangle into his dark hair, gripping at it hard as you rock your hips against him in silent encouragement for him to give you what you needed.

It borders on painful as it enters, but the way he angles it as you clench against the hard metal has your toes curling. That’s all it is, really - something to clench round as he works you over with his tongue, but the thought of it is enough to have you gasping with delight. What it was inside you, what it could do, what the man between your legs could do to you if he felt like it. He didn’t feel like it though. The way he groans into you and laps up your mess makes it clear that of all the wicked little things he could, would, and probably has done in his life what he feels like doing right now is making you cum like you never had before.

You try to take in the sight below you, his lashes oddly pretty against his cheeks as his eyes are shut in bliss, the rest of his handsome face obscured by being so thoroughly buried and busy between your legs. When your eyes do close, head hitting the wall behind you as he speeds up his pace, you think back to the look he gave you when you took the gun into your mouth. Absolutely out of his mind with need, and a need for only you. The fact that you’d made a man like him look like that has your stomach clenching just as much as him giving your clit a hard suck, making you squeal as you look back down at him.

He’s watching you now, small foray into overstimulation having gotten your full attention on his eyes, green irises obscured by just how blown his pupils were with desire at the very sight of you. His low rumble of a groan sends vibrations through you that have you gasping his name, something that seems to please him as the sensation continues with a happy hum.

The sounds your pussy makes as he fucks you with his gun fill the room right alongside your unashamed moans and he has to move a hand from your thigh to his pants, keeping his pace with both weapon and tongue as he frees his cock from it’s uncomfortable confinement. He pumps it roughly, matching the speed of his gun inside of you and growling into your pussy as the heat inside you builds and you start clenching hard enough to hamper his movements. Then, he pulls the gun from inside you, setting it aside, and releases his suction on your clit with a pop as he stands and lifts you from the ground, sliding you onto his awaiting cock.

The movement is swift enough that you barely realise he’s done it until you’re filled to the brim with him, scratching at his back and moaning into his mouth as he bounces you up and down his length. Though you’d well warmed the metal that had been inside you, Toji's heat is something else entirely, soothing the sting with a slight soft give well suited to stretch you out perfectly and stirring you up at the same time.

His big hands grip your ass hard, as though spreading you a little wider would help to accommodate his girth better. Discomfort doesn't matter now though as he gives you strokes that leave the thick head of his cock tugging at your insides, thighs trembling around his waist, senses shattering as your pussy sends waves of static straight down to your toes with each rapid movement.

His deep moans border on growls, they're so frenzied, and the first wave of cum gushing heavy inside sends you the rest of the way over the edge alongside him. You can only hold on tight as he pulls you down in time with his upward thrusts, and if he weren’t fucking you so hard through your orgasm you might have heard the cum he was pumping you full of being forced right back out and falling heavy onto your hardwood floors below. You bury your face in his neck, breathing hard as you try to keep hold of him despite feeling spent from the events of the night.

He’s sensible enough not to step in your combined mess below as he moves down your hall, staying deep inside you while he carries you as if you were light as air.

“Where’s your room?”

You gesture lazily and grip him tighter as he lets go of you with one hand, but you’re held securely as he opens your bedroom door and walks in, setting you onto your bed. He pulls out slowly, rubbing at your hip as you shiver slightly, and sits back, watching more of his cum dripping out of you and onto your covers.

“Should’ve asked before I did that.”

All you can do is shrug, it was the last thing on your mind right now after what had happened, and would remain on the back burner as Toji lies down next to you, staring up at your ceiling and letting the afterglow wash over you both.

After a while he rolls onto his side, facing you.

“So, what’s your name?