#i mean im an adult i can do what i once but . . . .. ......

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EDYN TIDESTRIDER, CHALLENGER OF THE UNDERSEA, RIVAL OF THE DEEP. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR BROTHER WAS CHOSEN TO BE A WEAPON OF THE GODS? HOW WILL YOU UNDO WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO HIM?

[dnangelic]

like it's just the way that outside of the BATB/POTO 'love what's ugly and ostracized' narrative itself cocteau was gay and everybody hated his gall about it, howard ashman was gay and had to conceal it and died of aids after finishing his work for disney's batb.... rather than have dark be homophobic and spitting in the face of his inspirational roots (the sole canon detail i can't stand) it's much much much more interesting for me to both read and write not someone who's meant to be a pervert (in humor) and an agape lover (in serious contextualization) only to turn and say 'no homo' to the crowd every single time but rather, instead of all that, someone who, simultaneously taking daisuke into account, is both extremely firm yet simultaneously insecure in the struggle to establish their identity not only in regards to themselves but also around others.

that applies to a lot, but i've been considering it especially in regards to dark's gender and daisuke's attractions. dark in my portrayal (while overall 500% nonbinary) is closer to someone bi-gender rather than agender; the feminine aspect to him isn't just theatrics, it's actively also part of his entirety to him, (compared to daisuke's passivity; the ten thousand canonical princess allusions,) and even if nobody ever recognizes it in a cognizant way, it is always, always there, the same way that erik blurs and obscures gender in leroux's novel (my second enormous inspiration, sugisaki's outright admitted primary) and sakurai occasionally discusses his relationship as both a performer and a person as well (my third enormous inspiration and sugisaki's secondary,) (see 1, 2.) simply put, the tragedy of (my!) dark does not ever derive from his being able to choose and sit comfortably and confidently with this sort of identity (in fact, it's one of the few things he can stubbornly, viciously decide for himself [alongside daisuke] as essentially a non-human, autonomous 'angel',) it's instead the way that his personality is so strong and 'anti-feminine' in the eyes of convention that said aspect of himself often gets disregarded for strictly masculine (and regardless, further self-contradictory and therefore isolating,) expectations.

dark himself alone does not care if others do not understand him; this is meant to be one of his far more admirable and impressive traits. he's staunchly independent: he knows who he is, what he's supposed to be, and he knows that if he actively presented himself more femininely (crossdressing to 'pass' essentially,) then people's behaviors WOULD be very likely to change around him, but he doesn't even do that because it goes against his overwhelming sense of pride. he never contorts, he never twists himself, what matters to him is that he and he alone understands himself and knows what he is, what he isn't. but he is, without proper support or acceptance, still alone. even bearing a strong character, the stifling loneliness and inherent, underlying self-sense of broken/wrongness of the 'other,' (god's luciferean problem child, the black sheep, the black-leather wearing punk,) is still inflicted on him. dark exists solely for himself, he exists solely for daisuke, which is simultaneously wherein the inversion and insecurities lie: if dark is canonically the live metaphor for all the aspects of daisuke's self that he attempts to and yet cannot possibly, conceivably repress, from his loves to his faults to his shames and his criminal sins as a thief, then the likes of daisuke's own personal confusions in regards to himself and his attempts at intimacy/socialization with others is the other, hidden side of dark's absolute self-confidence; it's every fear of perpetual isolation, misunderstanding, and abandonment for things outside of daisuke's own control.

queerness in relation to the self (transgender allegory) queerness in relation to others (non-hetero-romanticism) mental illness (depression, anxiety,) etc, etc, dark's thematic basis may at its most general simply be "a secret that feels wrong and that you feel you can't really tell anyone or else you'll get in trouble/won't be as liked as much" but it feels much better to give due respect to each of these primary roots.

[isabelguerra]

Hey i'm really not looking to start anything, but I dont know how else to say this. lately i've noticed an uptick of people being petty and smarmy in the tag

I can't control others' behavior. But I believe it's important to say that, as a reminder for those who weren't there at the time, there was a massive pnat fandom exodus in 2017-2018 as a direct result of infighting and stubbornness happening at the time. It's the reason the fandom is so small today. Around 80% of the tag's population, anyone who enjoyed Paranatural at all, slowly disappeared over the course of months. I would really, really hate to see that happen again. Please consider how your words and actions affect other people. Last time, the self-thought richeous actions of a few hurt the entire community, including zack themself. Think about if you want to make those same decisions. If you want to be that few. Thanks. gnight

[pemguims]

am i . am i justified buying a new phone bc the vibes are just off with my current one and nothing else is wrong with it KDHOENFKSJDJEJ

[crushpunchh]

look just becausee you dont get his (context clues i am not maintagging this or risking it showiing up via tumblrs garbage search system) sense of humor doesnt mean hes an 8 year old. im losing my miind out here.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Clawing at the walls I hate that I don't have enough time to keep up with all the QSMP and Purgatory POVs / lore I'm interested in, I JUST WANNA KNOW WHATS HAPPENING!!!! I WANNA SEE IT ALL!!!!!!

[formosusiniquis]

okay but what if I did a vandal rewatch and wrote about them having to deal with the approach of their 30s??

[99naive]

they're taking him to a shelter tomorrow , im not sure how chatty/up beat im gonna be able to be these next few days guys but i promise i'll try to be around .

[clamorybus]

i know a lot of people say things like 'if my post doesn't apply to you then its not for you' when they make advice posts, which i totally get. but when people make posts dissing picky eaters or adult cartoon fans or whatever, and other people point out that includes disabled adults, i feel like "oh i didn't mean them!" doesn't really work, y'know?

[devotedlystrangewizard]

i think if i wrote and published a book id get semi-cancelled

[nightingale-prompts]

How to Raise Your BatBoy

First | Previous | Next

Dick sighed into his cup of coffee. This is not what he wanted to see when he woke up in the morning. That and the giant bat wing covering his face this morning.

Danny was getting bigger. Not physically but his bat features are changing. The teen was getting better at changing shape. His ears are sharper ending in slight points, his fingers are more clawlike, and he has grown a thick ringed collar of white fur around his neck. Thankfully that's as far as his transformation can go right now. Danny has learned to pick and choose what traits he wants.

Danny has claimed Dick's gymnastic equipment as his. The aerial equipment is now used as roosts for Danny to hang off of and nap. But that hasn't stopped him from sleeping on top of Dick like an overgrown cat.

Bat wings expel a lot of heat as blood circulates through the thin skin which cools the blood in hot environments that they are native to. So to regulate their temperature they rest together to conserve heat. That's probably why Danny decided to grow the fur collar and sleep on top of Dick.

And why is Dick so frustrated? Because he's fighting for his goddamn life in this house. His cute aggression is barely contained. He wants to squish the kid's cheeks and ruffle his hair all the time.

Dick would be going over case files while Danny watches tv on the floor and Dick will feel the insatiable NEED to go bother him.

That damn fuzzy neck fur calls to him like a cat picking up a kitten.

Danny chirps! He fucking chirps! Like a baby bird!

Dick is trying so hard to be normal but if you had an adorable and clingy batboy you'd do the same.

Dick wants to tell the world about his batboy.

And he does. When he's Nightwing he will not shut up about how much he adores his sidekick. God forbid Robin is visiting, Dick will cry while taking hundreds of pictures of them together.

Damian doesn't like Batboy at all. At least that's what he says. He's just jealous that Batboy has bat wings. Damian warms up to him after they go out gliding together and get to study his wings.

It however goes downhill when they go on a misadventure and Batboy took a bite out of Scarecrow. Batboy had an immunity to fear toxins, instead, it overstimulated him. He ended up lounging at Scarecrow when he taunted Damian as the boy was paralyzed by the gas. When Damian was able to get back on his feet he found Batboy sobbing with his mouth covered in blood.

"Im sorry. I didn't. I didn't mean to-" His wings shielded him from sight.

Scarecrow was alive but the two sets of puncture wounds on his neck and the claw marks were not doing him any favors. The bite seemed to render him immobile at least for now. A symptom of a bat bite was paralysis.

Damian notified the others. Bruce and Dick got there first. Both adults were thankful they were okay but there was a disagreement.

"Nightwing you don't even know what the boy is. He could have killed Scarecrow. We don't know what he's capable of yet. He lost control." Batman stated firmly looking at the blood-stained teen that clung to Nightwing.

"He was protecting Damian. He didn't want to do that." Nightwing pulled Batboy behind him.

"It doesn't matter what he wanted to do. What will you do if he loses control and actually kills someone next time?" Bruce crossed his arms.

"All of us are capable of losing control and killing. I did it and you never came down on me like this. You are a hypocrite. You think he's a monster because he's not human." Nightwing was not going to let Batman point a finger at his son like this. He killed Joker once and he had don it out of rage and hate, not even to protect someone else.

"What I'm saying is that he isnt human. We don't don't know how he can be affected. We don't know his weaknesses. What if someone else figures out what fear toxin does to him and turns him into a weapon? Will his guilt be enough to stop him or will it destroy him? Do you want him to become like Man-Bat? Do you want to put your son in danger?" Batman didn't give in to Nightwing's taunt and stated his view firmly.

"We're leaving." Nightwing picked up the shrinking Batboy and made his escape but not before hugging Robin goodbye.

Nightwing had to move quickly. He could feel Danny getting smaller with every step.

This happened sometimes. Danny would sometimes retreat inwards when he was stressed. He changed to become as vulnerable as he felt.

When they got home Danny looked to be just 3 years old.

"Its okay baby bat. Not one is going to hurt you. I promised remember?" Dick held the chind aginst his chest.

"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." Danny said between gasping breaths trying not to cry. His small wings wrapped around Dick's shoulders

"No, its not. You did the right thing no matter what Batman says. I'm proud of you."Dick said stroking Danny's black-streaked white locks.

(*Does a silly jig*)

[ragingbookdragon]

It comes as somewhat a surprise when the others realize that something has obviously happened between their resident Lieutenant and Private, as she’s quick to fall silent whenever he appears, and even more so make herself scare when she can when he’s around. It’s only the third time that Soap sees it that he says something, because if he doesn’t no one else will, and where’s the fun in that?

He watches her duck her head and leave the break room, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Ghost sitting alone at the breakfast table conversing over soggy cereal and cooling tea; Soap pushes a piece of bacon on his plate and asks, “Trouble in paradise, Lt?” the corner of his mouth arches with a slight grin when he hears the warning grunt come from Ghost.

“No.”

“Seems like it,” he retorts, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’d ya do? Tell her ta fuck off?”

“Drop it, MacTavish,” Ghost warns darkly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

This time, Gaz jumps in. “C’mon, Lt., it’s obvious that something’s wrong. I mean, she won’t even look at you, let alone say anything unless you speak first.”

“An’ she’s callin’ ‘im ‘sir.’” Soap adds, pointing at him. “Christ, Lt., ya musta done a number on ‘er. Poor Puffin. So sweet and kind. Broke ‘er heart ya did.”

Price can tell that Ghost is close to snapping at the both of them but gets to it before he does. “Soap, Gaz, go catalogue our inventory for the mission next week.”

“Aw, but we already d—” Soap falls silent when Price shoots him a look and quietly grumbles to himself as he grabs his plate and cup, Gaz following in suit.

It’s only until the two soldiers are alone that Price asks, “What did happen, Simon?”

Ghost lets out a long sigh and rolls his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Pretty much told ‘er to fuck off.”

Price watches quietly as Ghost begins rattling to himself—he’s never really had to ask the man to explain himself. All he’s gotta do is prompt him to do so and Ghost does the rest.

“I just got mad. She’s always ‘round and practically up my arse, and I got caught up and instead of ‘andlin’ it properly, I shoved my fucking foot in my mouth and scalped her.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I meant to be gentler but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It just kept comin’ out. And now she fuckin’ hates me.”

He pulls his hand down and looks up at Price with a scowl—the man is smiling at him, but it’s that stupid smile that means more than Ghost wants to admit it does.

“Quit that.”

“You care about her,” Price murmurs, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, though his admonish is still harsh. “And instead of telling her how you felt like a grown adult, you took the ten-year-old way out and decided to be a cunt to her.”

“I didn’t mean to be such a cunt.”

“But the fact of the matter is that you did, and you’ve screwed up team fluidity and cohesion.” He looks at him. “You know a team divided—”

“Can’t stand,” Ghost finishes with an even worse scowl. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He looks away. “I just don’t know how to even start tryin’ to fix it.”

“Well, apologizing might be a good start,” Price rumbles with a grin. “She’s a good kid, Simon. Her heart’s in the right place, even if it’s a bit much at times. Shows she cares. More than most do in our line of work. She’s a rare one.”

“I know,” he admits in a much, much softer tone. “I just don’t want her to lose that doin’ this.” His eyes meet Price’s, and they hold such a misery. “Look at us, Price,” he mutters, gesturing between them. “Middle age, unmarried, no kids, too fucked up for anything like that. She doesn’t…” he clenches his jaw. “She deserves a better path, a safer path, than this life. She deserves to go out and have a life where she comes home to a family.”

“That’s not your choice to make, son,” he replies gently, but there’s a firmness to it. “If this is what she wants to do, then she will. We can’t make her get out of service.”

Ghost growls low in his throat. “She has so much more potential than being cannon fodder. She could do somethin’ with her life. Somethin’ good. Somethin’ that won’t have her dying face down in the sand with a bullet wound in the back.”

Price simply watches him.

“But she’s so fuckin’ stupid. She wants to be here. She wants to spend whatever time she has dodgin’ bullets and wakin’ up every night in sweat ‘cause she can’t escape the dreams. No one wants to do this. We don’t want to do this. We do this because we have to. But her? She’s happy here.” He lowers his voice, it’s as if he’s in disbelief. “She’s happy here.” He looks at Price. “Why? Why is she so happy here?”

It's another long moment before Price speaks.

“You hear, son, but you don’t listen.” He moves the cup on the saucer. “She bounced around homes growing up, scraped by on the skin of her teeth. She has no one. But here, she has something. She has people who care for her, if nothing else, they won’t let her die alone.”

“Oh what? So, it’s found family bullshit?” Ghost spits. “If she dies, at least the team would mourn her?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve done too?” he replies, and Ghost falls silent. “People like Gaz, Soap, and myself are different than you and she are, Simon. We have homes. We’ve had families that have loved us, that do love us. But you two? Simon, you’ve made a home where you’ve had to. Made a family out of people you’ve bled for, would gladly bleed for. You’ve made something that’s yours. You made a family for yourself. And so did she. She’s made us her family. The one she never had the privilege to call her own.”

Price lets out a quiet hum, and pats his thighs, standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Think on what I’ve said, son. And if nothing else, apologize and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court and let her make the next move.”

As he walks off, he hears, “And if she doesn’t want it?”

He tosses a knowing look over his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll take it.” His eyes twinkle as he adds, “Takes an awful strong woman to care about a man like you.”

[localkiss]

Fucking After Party!

pairings: leon kennedy x fem!reader

synopsis: Of course your big brother coddles you. Do you find it weird? Yes. So, you slip away to a Halloween party, unbeknownst to what will happen later in the night. Maybe you'll find yourself clinging to your older brother in time of need.

cw: MDNI!! INCEST !! Knives, oral, p in v, unprotected sex, noncon/dubcon, creampies, spanking, manhandling, degradation, praise, overstimulation, poor depictions of alcohol and drinking, poor depictions of flirting (im shorry), videotaping.. um probably more but i don't wanna spoil it. LEON IS VERY OOC (since some ppl are babies about that 🙄)

wc: 4.6k

tags: @dilfstar @adiorxia @leonkennedygvrl @bunnyclaire @rigorwhoring @leonsdolly @admirxation @gettingsilly @nilpill @withonly-sweetheart @cakelitter

“Hey little sis,” he hums out, hand reaching up to pet your head with affection. Thinking about how cute you are when you look up at him with red hot cheeks. His eyes dip down your body, so soft and plush. Perfect. 

“Leoonnnn!” You drag out his name in an annoyed tone. Swatting his hand away. Can't help but think that he's a pest, constantly buzzing around you. Never leaving you alone.

Like, c’mon doesn't he have a job? He's always been a bit of a lurker around you, but especially now that you're in college. Can't always be his baby sis. One day, you'll have a significant other, leave the house, and sort of cut contact for the most part. Be too busy to entertain your loser of an older brother. 

To him though? You will be by his side forever. Dote on you forever and ever. Never make you pay any bills, lift a finger, or even have the time to complain about something. Because, guess what! Big brother is always here for you. To take care of you and never make you have to get a job to sustain yourself. 

Leon just chuckles at your display of frustration. He wants to comment on how cute you are, especially when you say his name like that. 

Wants to just snatch you up and cuddle with you until you are fast asleep in his arms. His strong, firm biceps against your body like you're a body pillow. 

Imagining you scooting up close until you're snug against his body. Your ass pressing into his groin so much that he can feel your tailbone. To imagine you knocked out so he can take full advantage of you. Better yet, if you pretend to be asleep, letting him grope you in ways a brother shouldn't. 

Honestly, he thought about ordering some sleeping pills to dissolve into your drinks. So when he feels like feeling you up in your sleep, he can do it while making sure you're gonna stay asleep.

And place a camera in your room so he can watch back on how you look and react in your sleep. See if you smile in your sleep. Good material to jerk off to, especially good if he manages to snag a pair of your panties.

He sucks on his teeth and shakes his head down at you. “So… where’re you headed, looking like that? Got a hot date or what?” Leon drags his eyes slowly once more. One thing caught his eye immediately. Can't believe he didn't even notice it the first time he looked at you. 

You are wearing black pantyhose and a white mini dress. What are you, some cheap hooker? No, no, no… you are his baby. Only he should see you like this. Not some fucking douchebag who's going to do a pump and dump.

Man, if he ever catches some guy trying to dick you down in your bed.. it'll be over. One flash of his badge and the guy will go running off with his tail between his legs. It doesn't mean anything to Leon if your love or sex life doesn't even begin.

“I'm going to a Halloween party.” You answer bluntly, gesturing towards your sexy nurse rendition. Shifting from one foot to the other, your maroon colored heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Sighing deeply, like he's boring you. 

Leon raises his eyebrows. Even worse than a date. A whole party full of immature adults whose brains aren't fully developed. Great. Perfect. 

“Sure you don't want me to go with you? I can be a sexy cop,” he puts his hands on his hips with a sly smile. “I can even bring my handcuffs.” 

You wrinkle your nose at that. “Um, no thanks. You'll just be watching me the entire time, again. Remember last time?” 

Closing your eyes and shaking your head rapidly for a few seconds. It was weird. 

“Oh come on , I was making sure nobody was trying anything funny. Can't consent if you're totally wasted.” As if he isn't planning on touching you in your sleep. 

Though, you've no idea that he's thinking this stuff. Supposed to be a good guy. Good cop. 

However, there is something about you that makes that dark side of his brain itch. Maybe it is because you are his little sister? The fact that you guys used to play house together? Used to do things that would be weird to do as two grown adults. 

Him being the husband, you being the wife. Parents in the other room as you mimicked what they did a lot, which is a quick peck on the lips. It was innocent. 

Or when you both were forced to change in the bathroom together, after swimming. It was all fine and dandy since you're family. And when it became weird, was when you were fourteen and he was sixteen. 

Weird that your brother kept following you and bothering you. Or was the chaperone at dances. Always staring and glaring down at other boys. Pissed you off and you both argued on the way home. You did not have a good time at any dances because of him. 

“I need to protect you from the bad guys,” he said. “Mom says I have to watch you, since I'm older than you,” he said. What is he, some sort of hero?

It only got worse when you walked in on him masturbating. You remember the way his mouth was formed in an ‘o’ shape, how his cock was flushed at the tip. How he had his head tilted back into his pillow. The lewd sounds of him fucking his fist and his soft groans and whimpers. And how his muscles rippled with each tug, the slight sheen of sweat on his naked figure. 

Leon was just mumbling to himself. “Yeah? Yeah, just like that. Mhmm…” 

“Take it baby, take it.”

“Please let me cum inside of you. Please let me.” 

And a whole bunch of other things you simply wish you never heard out of his mouth. It makes you cringe. But you also feel disgusted for squeezing your thighs together as you watched him. He was big. Real big. 

“Yeah. But I want to go, to have a good time, Leon.” You insist on leaving alone. “I'll text you if I need any help.” 

Giving him a flat smile, you click clack your way to your friend's car outside. Getting inside the vehicle and driving away swiftly. Looking out the window and seeing Leon wave goodbye to you. 

As soon as you arrive at the party, you are bombarded with the smell of weed, sweat, and alcohol. Just the right scent notes for a candle!

You shimmy your way into the kitchen for a red solo cup to fill up with some concoction of alcohol and juice. Doing so, you find yourself flirting with a guy who is dressed up as a vampire. And he convinces you to dance with him. 

Making your way to the dance floor, he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. Slowly moving it down towards your hips. It’s a bit weird for someone to be so confident and comfortable with touching a woman like that immediately. But you ignore it for the time being. 

Slowly getting to know him and all of his interests. Barely giving you any time to talk about yourself. It's whatever. He's cute. 

It sure is fun letting loose and drinking all your sorrows away.

You feel his hand start to slip down towards the top of your ass. Still, you don't say anything. Maybe it's just the alcohol dulling your senses, you just can't find a care in the world to stop him. 

He leads you back to the kitchen, pouring you a drink. Urging you to finish what he made you before you both got back to the dance floor. Kind of weird, but alright. 

Shit. All you can see and feel is his soft body against you, his dick grinding up against your stomach. The black shaggy hair and his stupid vampire collar. And his old spice ass cologne, ugh. Headache central. 

You excuse yourself and go to the kitchen. Fixing yourself another cup, because fuck it. And then another man comes up and starts chatting away with you. 

Eventually, you both make it outside. Talking about the most random bullshit you could think of. 

This guy's pretty cute too. No costume though, from what you could tell. And, he's eyeing you up like candy. Like he wants to eat you up here and now. Hot…!

He's tall, skinny, and has dark brown hair. Oh, not to mention the weird black lines on his face. Maybe…it's his costume? You hope. 

“So, what's your costume?” You gesture towards his outfit. 

“I'm dressed up as Choso from Jujutsu Kaisen, you probably don't know it. It's an anime.” He explains with a shrug of his shoulders and a smirk to his lips. 

Oh! So he's one of those guys. Yeah, nevermind. No thanks, Mr. Nice guy. 

“Oh, okay… Cool. I'll be sure to look that up later,” you hum and nod your head. 

He created this awkward atmosphere. Best to just swipe it under the rug and talk about something else. Or, just get more alcohol! Because alcohol fixes everything! 

Both of you make your way back into the house and you grab some more of that good stuff. Gulping it all down and smoothing your slutty nurse outfit out. Bending over to fix your stockings, to make sure it looks cute still. 

Somebody comes up behind you and whistles. That gets your attention in the wrong way. Doesn't matter to the guy though. Attention is attention. Can't help but wrinkle your nose at him, watching him walk away with a smug look on his face.

You straighten up and sigh, checking your phone. It's only been two hours? 

God, it feels like it's been an eternity in this swamp of horny drunk adults. You can't see your friends anywhere, assuming they've already left and are going to hookup with some stranger. Like always, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. It's cool though. 

Rubbing your bleary eyes, you stumble out the front door. The chilly air of October coming to bite you in the ass. Quite literally. It's almost hanging out with the way it keeps riding up. It's not too cold, as you have some liquid courage in your system! Thank god for that! 

Feeling your teeth start to chatter, you manage to send your location to Leon. Opening your camera, you take a good look at yourself. Fixing yourself up to take a few photos. Might as well, since you look absolutely amazing. Wouldn’t want this makeup to be all for nothing, now would we?

As you smile and pose for the camera, you feel two arms slipping around your waist. But no groin pressing up against you. Odd. You bite your lip and turn your head. 

“What the—Leon?”

“Yes, silly. That's my name, don't wear it out.” He chuckles down at you. “What? I was getting ready to pose for a picture with you.” 

You roll your eyes, feeling his chin rest on your shoulder. And at the last second, he moves his hand to come up and squish your cheeks together. Ruining the photo. 

Turning around, you let out a huff of air. Hitting him once in the chest before making your way to his Jeep. Not bothering to chastise him for doing that. You've had enough of men for today. 

Buckling yourself, you squeeze your legs together, trying to warm up quickly. The warm air fanning all around you, undoing all the prickles in your skin, it's refreshing. Leon gets into the driver's side and buckles himself before driving back to your guys’ house. 

Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back against the headrest. The bumps and the soft sound of the radio killing you to sleep. Thankfully Leon doesn't say anything the rest of the way home. 

As the car slows to a stop, you wake up from your little—but much appreciated—nap. Groaning, you unbuckle and get out. Staggering your way up the stairs and waiting for Leon to hurry up and unlock the front door. 

His thick hair bounces with each step he takes as he jogs his way towards you. Opening it and walking inside, shutting it and locking it behind you.

He takes his shoes off, leaving them at the door and disappears into the hallway. You sigh, taking your heels off and hurrying to your room. Closing it behind you, you set your shoes on the floor. Flopping onto your bed with a groan. 

Before you could begin to take off your clothes, the power goes out. Leaving you in complete darkness. Double tapping your phone, you put on your flashlight. 

“Leon?” You call out, crawling out of bed to open your door. 

A few beats later there's a loud thud, which makes you jump. Okay, now you are really scared. Soft hums and deafening white noise fills your ears. You go to his door and knock on it. 

No answer, yet again. Did this asshole fall asleep? Great. 

Making your way towards the living room, you hear yet another noise. “Ha ha.. very funny Leon! I know its you.” 

You hope it's just him pulling a prank. Hope.

And when you finally reach to your destination, you move your phone around to see if anyone's there. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a tall black figure. 

Screaming, you almost slip and fall trying to run back into your room. But before you could make it, their hands grab onto your waist as tight as possible. Pulling you back towards their chest. God damn it, you dropped your phone!

“Please let me go!” You start panicking and sobbing, kicking your feet out in hopes that they drop you. “I don't wanna die! Please…!”

They don't, obviously. And you try to elbow them in the stomach, hearing them groan and tighten their grip around you. Putting one hand over your mouth with ease.

The man drags you back into the living room, throwing you on the couch and straddling your hips. You hear him snort and in turn makes your stomach churn with disgust mixed with fear. Sobbing, you feel weak due to being inebriated and scared. Unable to try and push him off of you. 

“You're so stupid,” he says lowly, his gloved hands pinning your wrists down with one, the other one squishing your cheeks together. “So slutty too.” 

His hand leaves your face and traces the curves of your body. Too bad you can't see his face. Stupid mask. 

“W-What do you want from me?” You squeak out, feeling his hand start to grope at your chest with interest. 

“Your virginity, baby.” He coos, ripping off your skimpy nurse dress. The buttons go flying everywhere. His voice sounds familiar though. 

In the state of shock, he takes the opportunity to pull out his knife and cut through your bra. Watching the way your nipples pebble up and how your tits jiggle. Putting his knife back, he groans. Grabbing a tit and squeezing it before letting it go to slap it. 

“Stop it! Why are you doing this to—” 

Listening to the way you gasp and whimper. He repeats it a couple times to each tit, before he pulls up his mask just enough to see his mouth. 

Leaning down, he forces you into a kiss. His hand lightly holding you down by the neck, his thumb gently squeezing the side. Letting you feel lightheaded so that you still panic at the thought of him killing you. 

“Taste so good, pretty girl.” The man laughs into the kiss before he gets off of you. 

Maneuvering you into the missionary position. Pushing your legs down with his weight as he ties your hands together. 

Once he deems it good enough, he gets up and starts to shuffle things around. And lights a few candles, making you squint, noticing something being propped up. Blinking a few times, you see it's a fucking camera. 

“Please, don't do this to me. Please…” you beg him, watching him make his way back to you. 

His hands sliding up your legs, playing with the stockings you have on. “Cute tights you've got on, slut.” He hums, his thumbs trace the lace. 

Moving up until he reaches your panties. “Hm, cute thong too. I see it's nice and soaked for me. And here you were, screaming and crying for me to stop.” He cuts them off of you, dragging the dull tip of his blade against your skin. Seeing you jump as he gets closer to your chubby cunt. 

“Got nothing to say?” The man puts his knife away, his thumb swiping over your folds. Not rubbing where you want him to rub, just teasing around it. 

“Please…” you whine out, trying to move your hips in a way that makes his thumb press against your clit. 

He chuckles, laying between your thighs, holding them up over his shoulders. “I know, I know. You want your pretty pussy to be played with. Want it to be raped too, huh?” Licking up and down your lips, teasingly dipping his tongue into your hole. 

Groaning, he starts to suck and swirl his tongue around your clit. You moan and squirm under him, feeling his hot tongue against your clit feels soo good. Moving your tied hands down to grab at his head. Needing to hold on to something. 

“Mmh.. right there,” you mewl, grabbing at his head harder. Hearing him slurp and moan into your pussy like he's the one that's getting head. 

“Yeah, right here?” He goads, taking your clit between his teeth gently. Nibbling on it and swirling his tongue all over it. And all thoughts in your head became mush. 

It creeps up on you like a jump scare in a movie. One minute you're fine, next minute you are jumping. Not because you're scared, but because you came so hard your body couldn't help but thrash around. 

“I'm… I'm c-coming!” Loud cries came out of your mouth as your legs shook and planted themselves against his head. The fact a camera is recording your every move and word, slips out of your brain and out into his mouth. 

And he greedily latches his mouth onto your hole. Getting every last drop of your cum before he sits up on his haunches and removes his mask. Maybe it's because you just came, but you aren't so alarmed that it's Leon. 

“What the fuck? Leon?!” Your cunt throbs, feeling your heart sink down straight to your ass. You can't even move properly and that makes him smile. 

“What the fuck, Leon?” He mocks you, leaning down to get all up in your face. “So fucking cute,” he hums, squishing your face together before moving it away from him, “so stupid though. I mean, fuck. You'd get wet and spread your legs for any man who wants to lick you open?” 

Leon tuts, giving your cheek a few taps before he pushes down his black sweats. His cock already hard and flushed red at the tip. Giving it a few slow strokes, his other hand gently roams up your body, giving your boob a feel. 

“Gonna let big brother take your virginity? Let me split open this cute cunt?” Leon watches you intently, tapping the weeping tip on your sensitive bud. “Not gonna fuck you until you beg for it.” Grabbing your left leg and lifting it up against his chest. 

You feel your eyes well up with tears once more. Lifting your head, you watch his heavy cock play with your pussy lips. Blinking them away, you swallow the thickness in your throat. 

“Please.. fuck me,” you mumble out, looking away, towards the camera unknowingly. 

“What was that? Speak up, princess.” Leon guides the tip to your hole, letting it kiss your opening. 

“Oh my fucking god! Just fuck me, Leon!” 

Shaking his head disapprovingly, he leans down, pushing it in slowly. “Big brother's gotta fuck this attitude out of you, hm? Yeah, he's gonna keep this fat cunt nice and full until she's learned her lesson.” His dirty brown hair falls into your face as he moans from the sensation of your cunt around his length. 

Keeping his eyes locked into your face as he sinks deeper into you. “Does it hurt, baby?” 

“Yeah,” you clench down on him, your velvety walls squeezing him just right. “It's too big.” A deep whine in your throat bubbles up. 

“Aww, poor pussy’s gonna go through it, yeah? Too bad big brother's cock wants to punish his little sister's cunt. Mhm…” he presses his lips against yours as he humps your wetness, softly making out with you. His hand goes up your arm and holds your hand in reassurance. 

As you lock tongues, he takes the opportunity to go just a bit harder and faster. Groaning as you flutter and cant your hips into his pelvis. The shaven patch of hair just runs against your clit just right. 

Pulling away, he lets go of your leg and hand, holding onto your hip and pushing your face towards the camera. “I'm recording this, smile for the camera baby,” he says between gritted teeth. 

Moaning, you look directly into the lenses, tightening around him. “Mmhh—fuck—please!” you squirm, moving your arms to block your face. Too embarrassed to look into it while he's fucking you. 

“You camera shy now? So adorable, lil sis,” he grunts, plowing even harder now. Both hands gripping onto the fat of your hips, listening to the squelching from your wetness. “You hear that? Sopping wet for your big brother. Tightened up when you were forced to look into the camera. It's okay baby, nobody else will see this video but me.” His thumb starts to swirl around your clit hard. 

Rubbing it fast, feeling you start to come undone on his dick. The feeling of his leather gloves catches onto your clit deliciously. You feel red and hot all over, your stomach tensing up. And you start screaming, legs going numb, feeling your upper body jerk forward as you cum. “Leon!” 

“Fuck!” Leon rabbits his hips into your squelching heat, roughly fucking you into the couch, “didn't know you'd squirt so easily.” He lets out a mix of a moan and a laugh, giving your pussy a few taps before putting you into a mating press. 

Feeling your lace stockings against his head as he drives into his own orgasm. “All fucked out now, mhm. Yeah, big brother's g’nna feed your pussy his cum. Get you fucking pregnant, oh—” 

He growls as his balls plap against your ass. Filling you up with hot white sticky ropes, stuffing you to the brim. But his hips don't stop fucking it into you. Pressing his cold lips against yours, he slows down. 

Leon huffs and leans back, pulling out his still hard cock soaked with a mixture of your fluids and his. Watching your cunt open and close, oozing out his spend. 

He unties your wrists and rubs up and down your sides. “Let me fuck you again, please lil sis?” Feeling your body hiccup and twitch from overstimulation. 

Rubbing your ruined eye makeup, you weakly nod your head. “Uhuh, want it again.” 

And then he's back all over you. Kissing you and groping your tits. Twisting your nipples and pinching them as his mouth makes its way to your neck. Begining to litter you with marks to insinuate you are taken. 

He switches to the other one, giving it the same love and attention he gave to your right breast. And before he stops, he presses a kiss in the valley of your breasts. 

“Okay, on your stomach now.” He guides you to flip over, spreading your ass to watch your holes wink at him. Gives it a smack, loving the way it moves. 

Leon braces himself on his forearm as he pushes the head back in. Whimpering as he presses his chest against your back, arms caging you into the couch. 

“Good god, you're so tight,” humping into you, he whispers into your ear. His breath hot and his voice low, sending chills down your spine and it warms your belly up. 

“This slutty pussy is mine, alright? Won't let any other man come near you. You're my little sister.” 

“Uhuh, s’all yours big brother,” you feed into his fucked up mindset. Letting him fuck you into his idealization of you. Soft, sweet, and pliant. 

Rocking your hips back, you moan into the cushions. With each thrust, he goes deeper and deeper. Making you arch your back from how deep he is. 

Soft squeaks and punched out groans rise from your throat, “Leon, please,” grabbing ahold of his hand and squeezing it. “Oh, fuck, please.” 

His pace starts to pick up, watching the way your head bobbles from his thrusts. Heavy balls plapping away at your clit, making you cry out. He drives himself harder into your wet hole, striving to make you cum again. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Soak my cock again, uhuh, c’mon baby,” Leon encourages you, whimpering and growling in your ear. The loud slapping noises echoing throughout the room. The smell of sex and sweat twirling in the air like dust particles.

Hot and heavy breaths against your neck as he clumsily kisses your pulse point. You shivering beneath him, milking his cock for all its worth is what drives him crazy. Pushing on your lower back as he grips a cheek and then slaps it. Over and over again. 

Hearing you crying out for him is enough for him to spill his seed once more. He pulls your hair and makes your face visible to the camera, coaxing you through your final orgasm of the night. Listening to you squeal and call out his name. 

“Good girl. You ready for me to pump this cunt up full with my cum?” Leon starts humping you, barely pulling out as he waits for your answer. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Eyes rolling into the back of your head as he slams his hips against your ass. 

About a half a dozen of thrusts, he spurts his load deep into your womb. Letting go of your hair, he lazily grinds his seed into your throbbing pussy as much as he can, before all of it comes pooling out. 

“Fuck me, jesus christ. ‘Bout emptied my balls into you. Fuck, I was backed up.” Leon pulls out of you and spreads you open, watching it bubble and pop out. Biting his lip as he pushes it back in with his thumb. 

Pulling up his pants, he grabs a few tissues to clean you up. As well as the couch. Oops, hope your parents don't notice any stains! 

“I'm so full,” you mumble, wincing as you turn on your back. “It's going to be your fault if I can't walk tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He snorts, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead. 

“Oh shit, I've got to stop the recording,” he goes over and shuts it off with a dopey smile on his face. “taking your first time on our first tape together.” 

Groaning, you push him away as he begins to snuggle with you. “God. Gross, get out of here.” 

“C'mon, I'll buy you as many sour patch kids and chocolates as you want. But first, let's go clean up properly.” He convinces you and you allow him to carry you bridal style into the bathroom. 

Of course, with a roll of your eyes with it too. “You better.” Because you wouldn't be his cute baby sis without having some sort of attitude towards him. Even after he fucked your brains out. 

(genuinely forgot where i got the divider for the content warning. augh. I'll find it later.)

[gamblersdoll]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

a dragon-king! bakugou who finally meets someone who can take him— and maybe this marriage isnt such a bad thing. p in v, virgin! katsuki, (he gets a little bit excited) established relationship, breeding kink/ pregnancy mention.

katsuki hated the fact he was the new heir to the throne, his father passing away and that was truly a part of his sanity. mitsuki was the one who pushed marriage, he had to have a wife and sooner or later, children.

‘in what fucking planet do we live in to where we have to get married, hag?’ he remembers being a teenager and asking that question over and over and over again. just to be hit with a ‘our numbers are depleting, katsuki. we have to do these things in order to survive.’

he still rolls his eyes to the thought, but not now— since his old hag of a fucking mother is actually serious. she actually seeded out women who always wanted to be a woman on the throne, a woman who has seen the dragon queens’ son and wanted to risk it all for him. he despises it, women who throw themselves to a man.

“which one do you like the most, son?” she asks, smile lines on her aged face pulled by her fanged smile. “and hurry, we dont have all day.”

“none of them.” he deadpanned.

“boy— pick one or ill have your head!”

“and everyone wonders how dad died—“ he says, before receiving a smack to the back of his blonde head. “ow!”

“pick one, now.” she repeats, fixing herself and smiling to the line of girls presented to them. “alot of them are just lively.”

he sighs, crimson eyes wandering and his eyes match onto you, seeming like you truthfully didnt want to be here. “you,” he barks, a finger pointed at you and he nods up. “do you not want to be here or something?”

“to be picked by a dragon king who doesnt have anything better to do? absolutely not.” you snort, his eyebrow twitching and mistuki chuckles.

“perfect! we’ll set both of you up on a evening together.” she announces, a good bit of the women groaning and both of you lock eyes. didnt she just hear you werent here on your own will? katsuki scoffs, storming off and a hand dragging down his face.

“please excuse him, he’s not used to these things and doesnt know his duty as the new king.” she phrases, hands on your shoulders and a beaming smile. “youre going to love my son, im sure of it.”

“uh.. okay.” you say, at a lost for words.

you would love her son, huh? yeah, guess you could say that. his temper tantrums died down over the months— yet, one thing was weirder than anything,

that hes never once initiated sex. was he nervous? no, he’s never nervous to sit you on his lap when barking orders to servants or to behead a woman for questioning your intelligence and beauty, so it couldnt be he was nervous.

“bakugou, i have a—“

“woman, ive told you to call me katsuki.” he interrupted, a hand on a hip of yours and a deep grumble in his chest. the tribal jewelry jingled against his skin, a huff from him.

“katsuki, i need to ask you something.” you correct yourself, not daring to look to him— and yet he was staring deep into you. “why dont you ever.. why dont you ever try and touch me?”

he pauses himself at the question, a tight squeeze and then he looks away. “because you ain’ ready yet.” he solemnly says, a hand patting your hip. “ill let you know when.”

“you say that every time, though.” you reply, trying to press the matter further. “whats the real reason?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, defensively irritated. “because you arent ready, woman.” he growls, agitation reaching his veins. “im not going to sit here and repeat my damn self.”

you get off of his lap, hearing a ‘sit back down’ from his lips and storm off. you werent hurt from his words, but you were questioning them. what in gods hell did he mean ‘you werent ready?’ youre a full fledged adult, not some child who couldnt understand why she couldnt go near the ocean.

maybe a few hours later, your king stumbling in and you both lock eyes. he opens his lips, eyes burning into yours. “im not here to fight with ya,” he says, a hand reaching onto your thigh and he huffs. “i just dont think youre physically prepared, nor mentally.”

“you arent my keeper, katsuki,” you remind, looking over to him and folding your arms in a groan. it was too late for this, especially after doing daily tasks as his wife. “you dont make that decision for me.”

“technically, i do. i dont have to fuck a woman.” he reminds as well.

“and what, do you not want pups?” you ask, his eyes flickering to you and his bouncing knee stops. “or is it im just not doing something for you?”

“not once have i ever said i didnt want children with you, y/n.” he growled, his gripping on your thigh tight. “i just said that you weren’t ready for that kind of thing, what apart of that dont you understand?”

“and how do you know what i am and am not ready for? is it because you havent slept with anyone before?”

he looks at you, straight faced.. you feel a chill go through your body, and you feel as if you had entirely fucked up— forgotten that this was a dragon king that you were married to..

and that you were dealing with.

“the last woman i tried to marry with could barely take anything that i gave her, you want to be next?” he warns, a small ounce of venom tracing his lips and he raised an eyebrow. “watch how you address me.”

“you know damn well thats not what i meant—“

“so what did you mean?”

“i meant if this is your first marriage, your first woman you slept with, ever.” you admit, scrambling for words to better help your case.

“yes and no.” he replies, patting your thigh. “the many women i tried to mate with could barely handle the tip.”

“okay.. so she left you because youre big down there, boo hoo—“

“no, you’re not understanding what i’m saying.” he stops you, grabbing your hands. “im your first dragon man, so..”

“us dragon men, we are bigger than the average human being. thats why we are better suited for dragon women, because their bodies can handle it.” he explained, still staring into you. “you arent ready for that kind of thing yet—“

“yeah, if you dont even attempt with me.”

he runs his hand through his hair, a nervous scoff. “the last woman who said that, her cervix was bruised and she cant have pups now, do you want that for yourself or do you not care about us?”

“katsuki, you dont have to be scared to do this with me.” you say, not even taking into account that he was a competitor, saying such words strikes a chord within him. and his chest swells with pride, him crawling onto you.

“no one is scared, woman.”

dragon men were definitely alot bigger than the average human man, you could feel it against you through the clothes that he wore, and his hands being big enough to wrap around your entire thigh.

his lips leave your neck, a whine coming from your throat and a deep grumble comes from his. he ran hot, his palms heated and sweaty from the passion and him grinding himself into your stomach.

he was needy, he hadnt been this needy in years.

“katsuki..” you mumble, hands along his sides and he kisses your lips, shutting you up.

“you think yer’ ready, little one?” he asks, his eyes blown out and dilated. he had been waiting for this, you can tell. you nod, teeth pulling at the small of your lip corner and he nods with you. his pants fall… and he wasnt lying, being nine inches long and twenty two centimeters wide. you swallow thick, looking down to the second beast he was swinging around. “you like to listen now, dont you?”

you nod, spreading your legs and he licks his lips. you watch his crawl ontop of you, kissing your collarbone and pressing his tip against your folds.

“kat—“ you say, him grunting and looking to you. “dont be nervous, okay?”

he softens a little, immediately forgetting that and hardening again. “let me know when to stop, ‘kay?” he says, pressing his tip and pushing it in.

his eyes widen, hearing you groan from the sudden stretch and he feels heat swell in his stomach. he cant fucking believe it, watching his cock slip deeper into your walls and he starts to pant. his eyes turn to slits, his canines growing sharper and wider— he was losing himself, realizing he’d finally met a woman who can take more than just the tip of his dragon cock.

“katsukiiiii..” you whine, a hand on his pelvis and he growls. “see..? im okay.”

he licks his lips, saliva pooling at the corner and then dribbling down the side of his mouth. “no fuckin way..” he growls, gripping your hips and jerking his hips. “fucking half way.. half way.” he repeats to himself, bottoming out and he claws at the sheets.

the dragon king holds your hips, raising them a little and then pulling you up, slowly pulling you back down and letting you adjust to his size. “give it to me..” he growls out, it being a echo.

“give you what..?” you ask, chest heaving and nipple hardened.

“your grace, give me the go ahead to take you.” he repeats, seeing you nod and pressing your legs to his chest. he licks at your calves, seeing the fire inside of his eyes while his cock drives into your cervix. “fuck! take all of it— take it all!” he growls, folding you up and slamming his body weight against your thighs.

slapping of wet skin, slick and creamy folds echo throughout the dragon kings bedroom—the dragon king becoming animalistic and he grabs your breasts in each hand. “katsukikatsukikatsuki!” you chant his name, eyes rolling and you cant remember how many orgasms youve been through from the dragon king.

“fuck— fucking have them, have my fucking pups!” he rumbles, nails digging into you as crescent moons into your skin and he presses his forehead to yours. “carry my kids, fucking take them— getting fucked fat with my kids— fuckk!”

he groans, pulling you down onto his cock as he stills. his cock gets pushed out, the dragon kings’ semen being in so much amounts it forces it out. he pants, ragged breaths and he falls against you, his body returning to his original state and his eyes return normal.

“katsuki?”

“mm.” he grunts, looking up to you and his face gets covered by your plush breasts.

“i dont want to say i told you so…

but i told you so.”

“do you remember when you thought i would die from having sex with you?” you say, sitting in the bathtub and bubbles cover your wet skin. “you were so nervous.” you chuckled, putting your hands on your round belly.

“yeah.. was kind of a punk for that.” he chuckles, smile lines, but yet— frown lines pulled from his chuckle. “you look gorgeous, beautiful.” he praises, kissing your cheek and putting a hand on your belly. “water too hot?”

“im carrying dragons, katsuki.” you remind, raising your hand to his cheek and caressing it. you feel his smile, and his lips press to yours. “the midwife should be here, soon.”

she was already there, both of you being enamored with each other to miss the part that was most important.

“what do you mean she’s having triplets?!”

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 1 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Your ex-boyfriend gives you his dealers number, but you don’t expect for him to be so fine. And you certainly don’t expect him to be so goddamn flirty. (3.4k)

WARNINGS: descriptions and dealings of recreational drugs (weed), little bit of swearing, slight sexual themes and lots of shameless flirting. THIS IS A MODERN AU!!

A/N: the first part is here and I’m so excited!! Im still unsure how many parts this is going to be, but there’s a lot I want to happen in this series so probably (I’m guessing!!) six or seven, but we’ll see!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Your patience was wearing thin. Very fucking thin. Those three grey dots mocked you as they bubbled at the bottom of the screen—disappearing and reappearing again—until they were replaced with another less than satisfying message.

Brandon: are you taking the piss? Why didn’t you just ask when you were here earlier?

You scanned the message over, swallowing back the groan at the idea of another potential argument. You needed to nip his attitude in the bud, you weren’t entertaining his bullshit anymore. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, your fingers quickly typed a response.

You: I didn’t realise I was out until I got home. Can you get any or not? Just lmk

The dots appeared again after a few moments of silence, and you prepared yourself for the snarky remark he was most likely to give you, and took a deep breath to compose yourself in advance.

Brandon: no. I can’t get you any. Sort it out yourself for once.

There was no way in Hell you were going to let your frustrations show. Despite the pure anger and annoyance that began to bubble even more within you.

Brandon could be a lot of things. A liar. A cheat. And a fucking asshole. In all honestly, the only thing he was truly good for was the occasional above par fuck and the fact that his dealer had the best weed you’d ever smoked.

But when they were the only two good things he had going for him, it was hard to justify the disgusting behaviour he showed throughout almost your entire relationship. You broke up every few weeks as it was, but if you’d known about the cheating before, you would’ve left for good sooner.

Instead, you found out a year and half into the relationship, coming to the deafening conclusion that he had, in fact, never been faithful for a single moment of his adult life.

Fuck him. And fuck his shit sex. The weed, you could get yourself.

You: lmao ok. What’s his number?

A heartbeat after he read the text, he was calling you. And the moment you answered the call, he was his usual, un-charming self.

“What the fuck do you mean what’s his number?”

“Hello to you, too.” You murmured, tucking yourself under the blanket on your couch.

His clipped tone didn’t startle you, didn’t worry you about any form of consequences. He wasn’t scary, even when he tried to be. He was just a douche.

“What do you mean what’s his number?” He repeated himself, that agitation growing thicker and thicker with every word he spoke.

“How else am I supposed to get any?”

“Find your own dealer.”

He was being bitter now, pathetically so. You picked at the aged edges of your book, a novel you’d read five times over but one you couldn’t get enough of. Your love for it could be seen by the fading print of the front cover and the severely broken spine—despite how careful you tried to be with your readings.

“Brandon, I’m not going to find a random dealer. Your Azriel guy has good stuff and I know it’s safe. Besides, me going to the same person as you is not going to affect you in any way.”

He was silent for a moment, mulling over your words. Despite his dreadful personality and lack of love and care and compassion, he knew how little you knew about marijuana. He was the one that taught you to roll, after all.

You’d barely smoked before you met him, and on the rare occasions you did get high, it was usually in the form of gummy edibles your friends had. And you weren’t addicted or reliant on it in any way. You just enjoyed a smoke every now and then if you’d had a long day.

Alcohol had never been your favourite, and you much preferred to feel the chilled buzz from a joint than cradle a hangover for two days after a soirée.

“Fine. I’ll text you his number. Say Marco gave it to you, it’s a code he made up—had cops on him a while ago. He can be a bit of an ass, don’t let him shit talk you. Ask for a 3.5, he usually charges 40 for it. It’ll last you a couple weeks unless you’re planning on smoking heavy.”

It was easy to be pulled back in when he was like that. When he did the bare minimum of offering advice on things he knew you weren’t too sure on. But you were better than that now, smarter. You weren’t going to fall back into your old ways again.

Not with him. Not with anyone.

“I’m not. Thank you.”

The line went dead as soon as the words left your mouth and a few moments later, he texted you Azriel’s number. You would’ve appreciated a reminder of what you were supposed to ask for but at least you got his number. Small wins. You weren’t his responsibility anymore.

It took you a few minutes to figure out what to say, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you typed and erased, typed and erased. Until you settled on ‘Is this Azriel?’ and finally sent the message.

Ten minutes passed and you didn’t get a response. Your nose was tucked back into your romance novel as you chewed on the drawstring of your hoodie. In all honesty, you could’ve quite easily slipped into a peaceful slumber under the warm golden glow of your lamps.

That was another thing Brandon couldn’t respect. Your No Main Light rule. The vibes were always immaculate with gentle warmth from lamps. The main light was not allowed on under any circumstances. You much preferred the cosy feeling of golden hues that accentuated the deep green leaves of your plants and vines that scattered the walls and crevices of your home.

Your phone chimed from your lap, a small surge of anxiety pulsing in your chest. You unlocked the screen and read over the message.

Azriel: depends who’s asking.

Ah, Brandon did warn you. You considered fucking the whole idea off. Maybe cracking open a bottle of wine and snuggling on the couch with a book or tv show would be better than having to meet this asshole, but the bottle of White Zinfandel wouldn’t give you the mellow buzz you wanted.

Not unless you had at least four glasses which was usually paired with a hangover the next day. Something you did not want to entertain. So, you bit the bullet and typed your reply.

You: y/n, got your number from Marco. You about?

The more you let your mind wander, the more you realised how little you knew. You had no clue how this sort of thing worked. Would he come to you? Your home? Would you meet at a location of his choice? Or would he just stash the weed somewhere for you to collect and you don't cross paths at all?

But the burning fire of the what-if anxiety was quickly trampled and extinguished when another text came through and instead of him deciding for you, you were given choices.

Azriel: sure, I can meet you at old tower in 20 if that’s good for you? If not I can drop to your location.

He didn’t seem as much of an ass now. No, quite the opposite. But you supposed that offer was something he probably gave to all new, female clients. If he truly was an ass or not, you couldn’t fault him for the consideration.

Old Tower was the old old watermill tucked slightly away in the centre of the city. It had been derelict for years, but due to its location—so close to all the necessities and right opposite the police station—no one ever tried to break in or set it alight like the many other derelict listed buildings had been in the past.

Even now, at almost midnight, that part of the city would still be bustling with city-natives and tourists alike. And you appreciated the safe and public meeting spot he suggested.

You: old tower in 20 is fine.

As quickly as you sent the message, you received another reply. A text describing his blue Mustang and his licence plate. You shook the nerves off as soon as they came. Azriel was respectful and well known. He dealt to make his money and that was that.

But the facts didn’t stop you from sharing your location with Brandon just in case, nor did it stop you from double checking you still had your little pepper spray clipped to your keychain.

The walk to the Old Tower wasn’t a bad one. There were many ways you could access it, most of them leading you through the city, but here were a few that hid you behind back roads and alleyways—those were routes you never took. Not on your own and certainly not in the middle of the night.

The air was still a bit sticky from the summer heat, and while the denim shorts you wore kept your body cool, you were grateful you kept on your hoodie—just that extra layer that protected your arms and shoulders from the chill of the breeze that your legs never seemed to experience.

It didn’t take long for you to reach the Old Tower, and it took even less time to spot the electric blue 2022 Ford Mustang. Small tufts of white smoke emitted from the exhaust as it sat in its standstill, headlights facing the opposite direction of what you came in, but you could still hear the engine humming from your short distance away.

You double checked the licence plate to the number Azriel texted you, and slowly made your way closer. While you didn’t know much about drop offs, deals, and weed in general, you did know the unspoken rules of picking up. And if you were picking up from someone in a vehicle, most people got inside for a few minutes before leaving.

Azriel must’ve noticed you from the rear view mirror because just as you approached the back of the car, the passenger door opened wide, inviting you in. You sucked in a breath but accepted the invitation, keeping your eyes forward as you settled into the warmth of the leather seat and closed the door shut.

You finally let your body shift and your eyes met his. And you were fucking done for.

You’d never seen a man so strikingly fucking beautiful before. He was tall, lean and muscular and oozed pure sex and charisma. Tan, golden skin and dark, luscious hair that swept loosely down his forehead and curled gently around the tops of his ears.

His face was chiselled not too sharply, a subtle gentleness to the stark contrast of the cold, brooding aura he carried. And those eyes. Christ, those fucking eyes. Hazel iris’ that dripped with a golden hue of honey.

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and willed your lips to part so you could finally speak. “Thank you for meeting me so late.”

And Azriel was absolutely hooked.

When you’d texted barely thirty minutes ago, he did not expect to be meeting with someone so fucking gorgeous. Your soft hair was twisted in a loose braid that hung over your shoulder, wayward strands having fallen from the updo and framing your face mesmerizingly.

Your eyes were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen; rich in colour and wide with slight anxiety, despite the sleepiness he could slightly notice beneath them. Your voice sounded like a fever dream. It wasn’t sickly sweet like most women he knew or dealt to. Perhaps it was just the sleep, but there was a rasp—a very slight ruggedness—in your tone and Azriel was certain he’d never heard something quite so sensual in his life.

He cleared his throat, that all too cheeky grin teetering on the corners of his mouth. “I was already out,” he shrugged, nonchalantly. “How much are you after?”

His voice was a perfect blend of sweet and rough. A deep depth to his tone that skipped hand-in-hand with a sweeter note. God, he was unreal, and the sound of him had you forgetting entirely what exactly Brandon told you to ask for.

You pulled your lips between your teeth and offered a very sheepish—but mostly embarrassed—smile. “Um… I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologising for the second time tonight. “My ex used to do this part, so I have no idea how this works.”

You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks at your own admission, couldn’t handle being the subject of his firm gaze, and you absolutely could not fucking handle the soft rumble of rich laughter that chuckled through him.

“Do you smoke a lot?” Azriel finally asked, a slightly amused smile on those full lips of his. His pink tongue swiped out to wet them and your heart thundered against your ribcage at the sight.

“Not really,” you cleared your throat. “Just every now and then. Semi-regularly, I guess.” There was no such thing as semi-regularly when it came to drugs and alcohol. To someone’s own self, sure. But not the general mass that consumed whatever it was they did.

Some considered three joints a day ‘semi-regular’, while others considered it as a joint every few days. Azriel had a feeling you were the latter, but he didn’t say anything about his thoughts or what you’d said.

Instead, he hummed and chewed at the inside of his cheek in thought. He wasn’t laughing at you or your lack of knowledge or understanding. Usually, he’d have kicked a new client out of his car by now and told them to figure it out on their own—he was a dealer, not a fucking private tutor—but with you, he didn’t seem to mind explaining or breaking things down so it was easier to understand.

Neither of you quite understood why he was happy to explain, but you didn’t complain. You’d much prefer this than the alternative version of him that you’d been warned about.

“A 3.5 would probably be best for you, then.” He decided.

Yes, a 3.5… that sounded very familiar. You nodded, slowly, considering your next words carefully. You had already disclosed the most embarrassing part of not having a fucking clue how this worked, one more probably wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous,” you chuckled nervously, scratching at the nape of your neck. “But can you break that down in joint terms?”

Azriel laughed again, softer this time, through a breath. It was odd, really. He wasn’t laughing to be cruel or to embarrass you further. It seemed to you that perhaps he found it endearing—your innocence on the matter—and maybe, just maybe, you reminded him of himself when he too at one point, had no idea either.

“It depends on how strong you have them. Do you smoke blunts or just joints?”

Your eyes widened animatedly. “God, no. Just joints. I think a blunt might wipe me out.”

A glint of warmth and light fluttered through his eyes for a split second. “So, a 3.5 would get you like seven joints.”

“Yeah, that would last me like a week, two weeks.” You nodded. “I’ll have a 3.5 then, thank you.”

Azriel hummed in agreement, and it was only when he reached for the centre console and flipped open a compartment that you saw his hands. His golden skin was marred beyond belief, etched in burns and an array of pigmented colours. Your stomach lurched at the sight. Not from fear or pity or disgust, no. Your stomach twisted in agony, your brain couldn’t comprehend a reason for scars like that.

You looked away as quickly as you clocked them, not wanting to stare and not wanting him to notice. You supposed he was used to lingering gazes, but you would not be a name added to that list of people.

Azriel did nothing but make you feel comfortable in the brief few minutes of meeting one another. He was kind enough to not laugh in your face and kick you out of his car after your admittance. You were not about to make him feel uncomfortable either.

He pulled out a small plastic baggie stuffed to the brim with forest green nuggets and handed it to you between two scarred, pinched fingers. You took it gratefully, a full and genuine smile on your lips now as you thanked him, reaching into the back pocket of your denim shorts for the cash.

“Did you want me to roll them for you, too?” Azriel’s teasing voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes snapped to him with a stern look. “‘Cause that’ll cost you extra.”

“I know how to roll, thank you.” You bit back, and while your voice and tone held all the conviction, the amused glint in your eye and the corners of your mouth told him he hadn’t offended you in the slightest.

“It’s twenty-five.” Azriel chuckled from beside you.

Your brows furrowed as you pulled out two twenty’s, meeting his gaze again. “Isn’t it usually like forty?”

The air now smelt of that tangy, vile scent, something that you don’t think you’d ever get used to. Or enjoy. He shrugged, flipping down the lid of the compartment between you. “You’re a new client.”

You raised a brow now, a taunting smirk creeping at the corner of your mouth. “Do you always undercharge new clients, then?”

Azriel liked you. Very much. You didn’t shy away or hide your personality from him, even after only knowing one another for barely an hour in total. He had a feeling he was barely scraping the surface.

He matched your stare, only he wasn't teasing. “Only the pretty ones.”

There was no hiding the heat that crawled up your neck and sat heavy on your cheeks. It had been a long while since you received a genuine compliment. Let alone one so forward and from someone so unexpected. You averted your gaze from him, looking at the two twenty’s in your hand. Raising them, you pursed your lips.

“I only have two twenty’s on me. So you may as well take the full forty.”

Azriel didn’t listen. Instead, he pinched one note from your hand, his skin brushing yours but you didn’t falter, didn’t shy away. He was warm, and despite the scars and marred skin, his skin was softer than you expected.

You huffed, not ungrateful for the discount but this was his livelihood and taking away from that felt wrong to you.

“Let me know when you’re out.”

You smiled appreciatively and nodded, stuffing the bag and cash into your hoodie pocket and reaching for the door handle. “I will. Nice to meet you, Azriel.”

He watched you climbed out of the car, offering another warm smile as the cooler evening air kissed at his skin. He wanted to ask how you were getting home, if you’d be walking alone or if you needed a ride. But Azriel couldn’t cross those lines, especially not with someone he only just met.

So he bit his tongue and prayed to the Mother above to get you home safely. “You too, Y/N.”

He started up the engine again as soon as the door closed, but he didn’t drive away. He watched you through the rear view mirror until you were out of sight and when he finally looked down, he found his jeans tight around his crotch and a painful erection.

“Fuck.”

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[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

So im starting a new art project with pieces i plan to sell as prints and maybe also make some designs to sell on society 6 in the same theme

Ive always had a passive interest in the language of flowers (and im a sucker for a good flower shop au). And ive realized I enjoy drawing plants from doing my book project. And after drawing almost 100 different ones I've gotten pretty good at it and somehow am not tired of it yet. So im gonna draw bouquets that communicate different things. Both good and bad cuz both can be fun. And maybe also some patterned pieces but im not sure yet.