#i will take every opportunity I can get to talk about him

[beardysuits]

Piece of Jake

Logan has hated his body his entire life. Obese, gay, and a shut in have been a terrible combination for him. He decides becoming his sexy roommate Jake may be just what he needs to build up his confidence.

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I’ve had a crush on Jake for… well forever I guess. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a part of the same class every year since kindergarten; you get to see the cute boys become cute men. Then there was the downside of that, that anybody who bullied you from kindergarten will decide to do it until you graduate. They’ll do it for anything too; being gay, being fat, your race, your wealth. I was lucky enough to get 3 out of the 4 for about 12 years now. However, I’m ready for that to change.

See I was blessed with a fantastic combination of having a slow metabolism, and an anxiety which I decided to soothe with eating. The result has left me to be a 19 year old with a BMI of 42. And yeah, BMI is bullshit if you’re stacked with muscle, but I had the rolls and pudge to prove there was some truth to it. Combine this with the fact that I was more queer than a midnight premier of Rocky Horror, and I came out to be not the most popular guy in school. I thought that would all change once I went to college, but freshman year was hell. I essentially spent the entire time in my dorm room, locked up in the dark and playing video games. But, I guess it wasn’t all that bad.

See, back to Jake. Jake kept his status quo of being one of the top dogs from the ages of 5 to 18. Baseball star, debate captain, and voted “most likely to succeed” by our peers. Top all of that off that he was on of the few people who actually wasn’t a total ass to me, and you can see why I was head over heels for him. He was straight of course, and even if there was a touch of bisexuality in him, he would never be interested in me. Now color me surprised when I found out that not only were we going to the same college, but we got randomly assigned to be roommates in the dorms! I was astounded, it was like there really was an astral force looking out for me. 

So for almost the entirety of our freshman year, we chit chatted here and there, but Jake was almost never home. Instead, he was working to get himself into one of the fraternities and move into the house. While I was sad to not have as much time to admire Jake as I would like, that did give me the opportunity to go through his stuff. Mostly his closet. Jake wore the usual clothes you’d expect, hoodies, jerseys, wrangler jeans and the like. However, being that he was on the baseball team at the college, I found his stash of jockstraps he wore for practice. And good god, thank goodness laundry day was only once a week. The other 6 days I had a full time supply of used jocks to sniff and fantasize with. 

I even tried to put one of them on in a hormone-fueled rage, but my thighs were probably the same mass as his entire body, and I couldn’t get the damn thing on. The longer I admired Jake and saw him for who he was, the more my love for him grew. With that, so did my jealousy. Jake was everything I wanted. He was fit, cool, and could get any guy he wanted if he even batted an eye at them. My time alone did prove to give me an opportunity to do some research however. 

See, I’ve tried for a long, long, long time to get fit on my own. Watching my diet, exercise, starving myself. But, nothing would work. That’s when I started to look for more, creative solutions. I came across a blog hidden deep on the web which talked about taking another person’s form. Most of these seemed bogus, but I had to try. I found one eventually from a user, “Magic_Mann_720” who shared a potion, once which he claimed could turn anybody into a bodysuit. I was about to just toss it aside, but after looking at my desk and seeing the empty bag of McDonald’s staring back at me, I said fuck it. 

In all honesty, brewing a magic potion was easier than I assumed it would be, and after just a few short weeks of waiting for unusual supplies to arrive in the mail, I had a vial of the stuff at my whim. Now, who could I possibly give this to? No, not Jake. But also, maybe? Would that make me the worst person imaginable if I slipped this to him? He was one of the few good people I had come across, I couldn’t betray him like that. However, I saw one glimpse of his jock hanging from his hamper, and doubts crossed my mind. It was staring back at me, taunting me with how tight it fucking was. I had to wear it, and I only knew of one body it would perfectly fit. 

He was like clockwork, especially early in the morning when he made his preworkout and went off to the gym at 6 in the morning. I set my alarm for 5:50, just early enough to slip the potion into his drink before he woke up and set off. It was of course impossible to wake up so early in the morning, but somehow I managed to silence my alarm without waking Jake. 

I fumbled around in the dark and found his shake he made the night before. I had slept with the vial under my pillow, though I could barely sleep from the anticipation of my task today. Being careful to not wake him, I unscrewed the lid, dumped the contents of the vial into the jar, and shook it up. I had just laid back in my bed when his alarm woke him up. I kept my eyes closed, hoping to trick him into thinking I was asleep. I heard him stumble around the room, getting his bearings, getting dressed. I couldn’t resist popping one eye open to see his lithe frame as he found a tank and basketball shorts. 

He was already wearing boxers, but if my plan went accordingly, he never would wear such loose fitting underwear again. I heard him grab his shake, and my heart began to race. The pop of the lid went off, and I strained my ears to listen to him drain the contents quickly and quietly. The lid closed and just as I heard the doorknob turn, there was the sound of heavy stomps. I opened my eyes a bit wider to see Jake stumbling around, trying to get his bearings. 

“Hey… Logan?” Jake said weakly. I pretended to wake up and rose from bed, seeing him lean against his desk. 

“Jake? You okay?” I asked him. He turned his head to me, panting. 

“I d-don’t feel good man,” he said between breaths. “Get.. get help. Help.. me..” He slumped to the ground, and while I anticipated a loud thud as his jock body slammed to the ground, it was a soft thump, like that of clothes tossed to the ground. For a moment, I hesitated to creep any closer, afraid of what I would find. I mustered up the courage to turn on the bedside lamp and found a near horrifying site by the door. 

There on the ground was Jake, but he was flat as a pancake. He arms and legs stretched out, head deflated, and the clothes he was wearing were atop of him in a pile. I tiptoed to the body, already feeling regret in what I had done. Fuck why did I do this to him? Was I really so driven by my own lust I essentially just killed a good guy? 

My own footsteps were much heavier than Jakes, making the floorboards creek. I kicked at the body, the skin feeling as alive as ever, but made no movement of its own. I got on my knees, and with the tips of my fingers, grabbed Jake’s hair and pulled his head up. I was met with Jake’s face, his eyes now hollow sockets and mouth agape. I dropped the skin and scuttled back in fear. Fuck fuck fuck, it’s so god damn creepy! I took a few deep breaths and crawled on my hands and knees to the body once more. 

I tried to be more confident this time, grabbing him by his shoulders, and pulling him up as I struggled to stand. Jake was of similar height to me, so once I was fulling standing, I leaned the face to my mine, the tips of his toes still slumped on the floor. You know, it’s less creepy now. Jake was always a cutie, and even as a husk of himself he was irresistible. It was too late now, and while I felt bad about what I had done, I did it with a purpose. The issue now was, how the hell did I fit inside? Speaking of, would I fit at all?

I pulled at his cheek and found it to be rather elastic. My curiosity piqued, and I pulled at the corners of his mouth, which stretched at least a foot wide when I put some effort in. That gave me an idea. I quickly took off my shirt and briefs, catching my reflection in the standing mirror as I did so. God damn it, I was so fucking fat. My stomach hung out in front of me, almost covering my pathetic cock. Ass was as wide as trailer, neck rolls which made it seem like my head sat straight on my shoulders. Tits bigger than most girls I went to school with. This was my last chance to do something about it. 

I sat on my bed, laying Jake down in front of me like a pair of pants. Stepping one foot into Jake’s mouth, I stretched it further and further until my thick calves were encompassed by his lips. Grabbing at his chest, I pulled him further up my leg, already running out of breath as I did so. This was a workout on its own. I remember watching videos of guys slipping into wetsuits when I was a teenager, it was a slight fetish of mine. I loved seeing the neoprene cling to their slim figures. Those guys would go inch by inch yanking the suit further up them, so I went ahead and mirrored the practice. 

I found doing so actually made the process easier. Soon enough, my foot aligned with Jake’s. I shimmied his calves to match mine, but it was so incredibly tight. It was like my leg was vacuum sealed inside of him, crushing the fat around my leg down to match his. I began to pant, scared I was cutting off all circulation. I was so scared to look down and see something horrific, but shot a glance and was amazed by what I saw. There, my right leg was pristine. It was a mirror image of Jake’s which I had stared at so often when he wore shorts. I wiggled my toes, and Jake’s did the same motion. 

Kicking my leg around, the pain began to subside, and I could see up to my knee, it was like I had worked out my entire life. I could feel the beaming smile creep across my face as I stretched Jake’s mouth open wide again to shove my other foot inside. Now that I had some practice, my left leg was far easier to work with and soon enough, I had two sets of legs which were built from years of baseball practices and running. My thighs proved to be another issue entirely, practically twice the twice of my calves. 

I stood up from the bed, almost falling over from my balance being so off. Grabbing at Jake’s stomach, I jumped up and down a few times, his skin stretching and sliding over me with his lurch. My I stuck my hand down the inside of Jake’s mouth, the feeling of my now erect cock sliding against the inside of Jake. Although I wasn’t generously endowed, it still hurt to have it crushed inside of him. I found Jake’s cock, and while deflated, certainly overshadowed mine in length and girth. With one hand on the outside, and the other inside, I guided mine into his like a sheath. 

It was the most orgasmic feeling I had ever experienced. Jake’s cock went from looking like a flattened worm, to coming to full erection. He was at least seven inches long, and despite mine being half the size, somehow felt like it was filled entirely. It was beet red from anticipation, and while I wanted to cum right here and now, I had to finish what I started. I turned to the mirror once more, and was shocked by what I saw. From the waist up, I was still fat fuck Logan, but from the lower half, I was built like a god damn star. My new cock swung side to side, stiff as a board, and my ass, while squeezed in like a sausage, now was as perky as if I squatted 300 lbs. I turned and slapped Jake’s ass, watching as the taut skin slapped me back. All hints of cellulite gone. 

Finally was the part I was most afraid of, my stomach. It hung over the edge of Jake’s body, the flap of my stomach going over Jake’s lips. I sucked it in, which did practically nothing. Taking one of my arms, I pushed it as far in as I could, and used my other hand to pull the lips of Jake’s mouth up. I groaned in pain, feeling like a rubber band was squishing me in and threatening to cut me in half. Somehow though, his head moved up and moved. It was by inches and incredibly painful. Once I reached my belly button, I found a system to make it easier. Moving him up further and further, I finally reached my chest before I had to fall onto the bed. 

I was breathing heavier than ever, and drenched in sweat from what was left of my original body. I felt Jake’s, and he was as dry as ever, as he would never be worn out from such a task. I counted down from ten and hoisted myself up, catching my sight in the mirror. My moobs hung over Jake’s torso, but it was like I was wearing a skin corset. I rubbed my had over my new stomach, feeling how flat it was. In fact, I would even see the beginnings of a six pack bulging out. It was surreal, I don’t think I’ve been this thing since… ever. I took a deep breath and worked to shove each of my tits down Jake’s mouth. 

Each of them was a chore on their own, but eventually, all that was left were my arms and head. I don’t know how that would work, but if I made it this far, it was certainly possible. It would be tough as I would lose an arm at a time trying to slide them in. Taking my right one first, I wriggled my fingers inside, pushing them down Jake’s like a skin tight glove. With each inch my fingers slid in, it was easier and easier as I gained Jake’s strength. Eventually, the fingers found their way into his. I pulled at his bicep, as stretchy as the rest of him, and snapped it into place, enclosing my arm. 

I rushed to do the same with my left and with my newfound strength, found this section to be the easiest. I was almost done. Jake’s lips were around my neck, and I had to use his fingers to make sure he didn’t choke me. I glanced at the mirror, and found Jake with my head. I turned my body around, admiring his form. I had taken several sneaky glances at him as he changed, but to have full autonomy, to see his tattoo on his thigh, the way his veins popped in his hands, the curvature of his muscles, it was like I was being treated to a feast. 

“Goodbye Logan,” I told myself. I don’t know if I would come back from this. Or, if I would even want to. I took a deep breath and shimmied his head up my own. The same tight sensation took over my entire headspace and it was like a migraine hit me. Using my hands, I smushed my face around, placing my nose into his, eyes, lips. I fluttered my eyelids and had to refocus my vision. Going to the mirror was a picture perfect reflection of Jake. 

“Holy shit,” I said. Oh fuck, that was still my voice. I guess that wouldn’t have changed. I don’t know how I could pull off Jake’s voice, but I would have to practice it. I looked at the corner of my mouth, seeing my original lips peak through Jake’s. I took a finger, stretching and pulling it into place.

There, I was Jake. Fuck I was Jake! I laughed and rubbed my arms across my body, watching as Jake did it in the mirror. 

I spent a good ten minutes trying different poses and watching as Jake bent to my will. Sniffing his pits, making funny faces, bending over and showing off my new hole to myself. That last one sent me over the edge and I knew I had to blow off the steam which had built up. I sat on the bed and hoisted my legs up, cradling the back of my knees in my hands. I could never have even thought about attempting that in my old body, but as Jake, I felt so lithe. My smile was beaming in between my legs as I puckered my hole. I had to see what this looked like. I wanted to see Jake be pathetic now. I twisted my face to match that of so many porn actors I had watched alone in this room. 

“Ohhhh… oh fuck me daddy,” I said, begging, watching Jake’s eyes as they wished desperately for a fat cock to fill him up. I split into my hand and began to pump my new cock, already slick and slimy from precum. I stuck a finger in my mouth and wet it before sliding it over my hole and slicking it up. I had plenty of experience playing with my old hole, but I always struggled to get my arm in a position to really get deep in. Jake didn’t have that problem though. I started to finger fuck myself, watching as Jake became his own bitch. 

“Oh fuck daddy, fuck me. Fuck me!” I yelled, the point of climax racing through my cock before I could even react. Laces of cum shot out and started to drench my body, reaching even to my face and getting into my hair. I pulled my finger out of my hole, let go of my cock, and felt it rest against my thigh. There in the reflection was Jake, covered in his own cum and looking like a bitch. 

I giggled, knowing I should feel far more guilty about what I had done, but too high on my own bliss to care. After bathing in my glory, I decided to clean Jake up and explore his body some more. I grabbed one of his towels and left the room, still naked. Walking down the dorm hall to the bathroom, it was still dead silent. Logan would have been petrified at the idea of being caught naked by somebody, but Jake? Well Jake now hoped somebody would see him and be jealous. 

Getting into the bathroom, I passed by Brad, another guy on our floor, who had a towel wrapped around his waist, still glistening from his shower. 

“Jake, the fuck?” He asked. I couldn’t pull off Jake’s voice yet, but I gave him a pat on the shoulder and winked at him as I pushed past. For a second I caught a glimpse of him checking out my body before he shook his head and rushed out to his room. I went to one of the mirrors in the bathroom and knelt over, posing and kissing at myself. Jake was going to become a lot more playful it seemed. 

I took my time in the shower, feeling every crevice of Jake’s body and feeling myself up. And of course, stretching out his hole some more to work him up to taking a real dick. Maybe by one of his new frat brothers I need to meet. Once I got back to our room, I knew there was only one thing left on my to do list of the morning. I went to Jake’s hamper and pulled out the jock which was mocking me just hours before. I sniffed at, Jake’s pheromones becoming mine. 

I slipped both legs down and had no trouble at all this time adjusting my bulge and feeling the elastic hug my jock thighs. I snapped one of the bands, feeling a sheer run my spine as I did so. Slipping one of his black shirts on, I went for Jake’s phone, which thankfully could be opened with just his face. I snapped a few pictures for myself to look at whenever I pleased. Now, how about we download Grindr to it and see what this new body can pull?

[fear-is-truth]

❥ j’s note: wrote this bc i hateeee my golf lessons... think i’d enjoy it more if rafe is the one teaching me </3 tags: very suggestive﹒sexual innuendos﹒pogue!reader

your boyfriend has been talking about teaching you golf for weeks, going on about how “every cameron has to know their way around a course.” when you’d pointed out you weren’t a cameron, rafe simply gave you a “not yet,”

and that alone was enough to get you here, on the green, clad in a miniskirt and a cute polo shirt. club in hand, feeling completely out of your element.

“first rule,” rafe begins, stepping up behind you so close that you can feel the warmth of his chest. “you’re way too tense, princess.” his hands find your shoulders, squeezing gently. “loosen up a little for me.” “i am!” you protest, but he just hums, clearly unconvinced. his hands glide down your arms to rest over your wrists, fingers curling around yours. “try again. wrap your fingers around it—no, not like that.” he shifts your hands gently, positioning your grip just right. “gentle, but firm.” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “though i’d say you’re already a natural… from personal experience.”

heat rushes to your cheeks at the implication, and he takes the opportunity to skim his fingers along the sliver of skin between your shirt and skirt. “feet a little further apart,” he instructs, nudging you until your hips are positioned the way he wants. “weight back. like this.” the curve of your ass is nestled snugly against his pelvis, and through the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the outline, the heat, of his hardened cock slotted between your asscheeks. “now, keep your spine straight, and relax.” he helps you bring the club up and then down in a smooth arc. “see? easy.”

“it’s… easier than i thought,” though honestly, you’re so focused on him that you barely even realise you’ve swung.“that’s ‘cause you’ve got a good teacher,” rafe gives your butt a playful smack he pulls back just slightly, giving you a bit of space but still staying close. “try it again, on your own this time.” you nod, taking a deep breath, feeling his gaze heavy on you. you set up just like he showed you, but as you swing, the club hits the ground a bit too early.

“not quite, princess,” he chuckles, coming up behind you again. “here, let’s work on that stance a bit more.” his hands return to your waist almost too eagerly. “sturdy but relaxed. you don’t wanna hold yourself too tight… unless you want me to stretch out those muscles for ya later.”

[sturnioloszn]

OLD TOGETHER - C.S

summary; you and chris are reminiscing on the day you adopted trevor and how everyone has grown old together.

warnings; noneee, it's a fluff!

a/n; it was bound to happen that i'd write a oneshot with trev. also, i'm gonna try to write a few more fluffs for NNN (lmaoo, i'll still do a few smuts, i wont starve u sluts dw) but yeahhh, enjoy!

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The triplets were finally back in Boston, and they asked if I wanted to hang out and have a movie night with them. Of course, I accepted. The triplets and I have been friends since elementary, and we used to see each other every single day. But ever since they moved to La, we've seen each other a lot less. So, whenever the opportunity presents itself, we hang out as much as possible.

Nick and Matt were currently out grabbing the pizzas and snacks for the movie night, whereas Chris and I decided to stay back. We were sprawled out on the couch, mindlessly talking to each other. I missed this. I miss being able to come over whenever and just hang out. I missed their company. I missed them.

After a few minutes, the conversation died down, and we were enjoying eachothers comfortable silence until a soft snoring was heard from the left of me. Chris and I both look up from our phones and look to see who was snoring even though we already knew who it was.

Trevor was curled up under a grey blanket on his dog bed, which was kept on the couch. God, this dog is sooo spoilt. We watch as he sleeps, his gentle snores being the only noise in the room. Chris and I exchanged a small glance and laughed under our breath, trying not to wake up Trev.

"Do you remember when we first got him?" I ask, looking back to Chris. He had his phone in his hand, recording Trevor as he slept.

"Of course I do. How could I forget?" He smiles, ending the recording.

-

"Come on, Nickkk, it'll be fun," Chris whines. We had just finished the school day, and Chris and I were begging to go to the animal shelter, but Nick and Matt were not convinced.

"No, mom said to come home straight away," Nick states. He looks over to Matt before speaking again, "Isn't it mom said that?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at Matt.

"Um... yeah. Chris, let's just go home," He pleads, not wanting his brothers to fight. Chris stomps one of his feet and shakes his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes slightly.

"Y/n wants to go too, and mom won't care if we come home like ten minutes later," He says, looking over to me. Now, all three of them are glarring at me, waiting for me to pick a side.

"How about me and Chris, go to the shelter for a couple of minutes, and you guys go home?" I say, trying to stop the fighting and make everyone happy.

"Fine, when mom takes your playstation away, I'm going to laugh at you," Nick says, sticking his tongue out to Chris and grabbing Matt's hand before walking away. Now it's just me and Chris standing outside the animal shelter.

"Are you sure we won't get in trouble?" I ask, looking into his innocent, blue eyes. He looks back at me before shaking his head and grabbing hold of my hand. We walk to the door of the animal shelter and struggle slightly to push it open, but when we do, a small bell rings.

As the bell stops, a girl with long brown hair comes out to the front. She looks at us before giving a warm smile, "Hi kids, what can I do for you guys?".

We both smiled back before I opened my mouth to answer her, "we were wondering if we could look at some doggies?" I question, with a hopeful gleam in my eyes.

"Of course," She chuckles, leading us to the back where all the animals are kept. There's a few dogs, cats, and even a bunny. But before she could explain anything the bell to the front of the shop rang again. "Sorry guys, give me a sec," She says hurrying to the front.

We take the opportunity to start looking at all the animals. There was a small white dog but it looked a bit crusty and next to it was a really big black and white dog.

"Ooo, this one is a husky," Chris says, reaching his hand into the cage to stroke it. He pets the dog's head and it instantly gets super excited and starts to wag it's tail. I wonder if these animals ever get lonely? Thinking about this makes me sad and I feel tears in my eyes. "Y/n, come here, come pet it," he says, turning around.

That is when he sees that I'm are crying and instantly stops petting the dog. "Why are you crying? What's wrong?" He asks, putting his arm around my shoulders. I cover my face with my small hands, trying to hide the tears but they keep flowing.

"It's sad, what if they get lonely and nobody pays them any attention?" I sniffle and try to wipe my tears away. He looks at me for a moment as if deep in thought.

"I'm sure they're not?" he tries to reassure but it doesn't really help. I keep sniffling trying to fight any more tears from falling when the girl comes back in with a puppy in her hands. She takes a look at me before asking the same question Chris had asked moments ago.

Chris explains to her that I'm sad because I think the dogs are probably lonely and want some love. "Awhh sweetheart, it's okay. I promise they get plenty of love. Here, how about you hold this fella," she says passing the puppy that was in her arms into mine.

The small dog was brown with a little, black button nose. I cradle the dog in my arms and pet it softly. Chris reaches over to also show him some affection.

"What's his name?" Chris asks the girl.

"He actually doesn't have one yet, he was just brought in, he's a puppy," she says, watching me hold the dog close to my chest. A smile down at the dog, it is so cute. I wish I could keep him but my mom would never allow it.

"Chris, d'you think your mom would let you keep him?" I ask, mentally crossing my fingers and toes that he'd say yes.

"Hm, maybe? Let me go ask!" He says, before running out the door. I didn't even have time to react before he was already out of eye-sight. He was probably running down the street, back to his house to ask if they could keep him.

I kept cradling the doggy and the girl reassured me that all the animals are very loved even if they don't have a 'forever home' yet.

Before I knew it Chris comes speeding back, dragging his mom by the hand; Nick and Matt trailing behind them.

Me and the girl both move back to the front to meet with everyone else. "Look mom! Isn't he the cutest?" Chris asks, pulling the dog into his arms to give his mom a closer look. She closely examines the dog before turning to the woman behind the desk.

"How big will he grow?" She asks. Nick and Matt move closer to us to take a closer look at the dog.

"I guess he's kinda cute," Nick admits, still salty about the argument from earlier.

"Nick you can't lie, he's really cute," Matt agrees, coming to also pet him. We were now all surrounded by the dog petting him and showing so much love.

The dog didn't mind all of the attention, he just yawned and settled into Chris' arms.

"Not big at all, he's a pug and beagle mix, so he won't grow too much bigger than he is now," the girl explains. I watch their mom pull out her purse from her bag and take out a card.

The woman behind the desk smiles and looks back over to us before speaking, "hey guys, he's all yours,". We look back and forth between us before all running to hug their mom. She laughs and hugs as all back.

"But you guys have to promise you'll stop arguing now, alright?" She says, shaking her head with a smile. Nick must have told her about the disagreement the four of us had earlier. We all agreed to her condition before we began throwing names around so that we could figure out what to name our newest friend. Amongst all our chatter, Chris speaks up so he can be heard.

"Y/n and I should be the ones to name him because it's technically our dog, we wanted him!" He says, making all of us stop speaking. Nick goes to open his mouth to disagree but their mom stops him.

"How about we all agree on a name, hm?" She says, leading us out of the shelter and on the walk back to the triplet's house we agreed on the name Trevor. When their mom heard the name she laughed and questioned it but Chris said he randomly thought of it which made us all laugh.

-

We share a smile, remembering our childhood and how crazy it was that we've had Trev for so many years now. We've all grown up together which was almost enough to bring tears to my eyes again.

Out of nowhere, Nick and Matt burst through the front door, "GUESS WHO BROUGHT BACK PIZZAAAA!" Nick exclaims, as if we didn't know.

Matt follows behind him, shaking his head. We spend the rest of the night, laughing, eating, and enjoying eachothers company. It makes me sad that we are getting older and that we're leaving our childhood behind but I can't wait to continue to grow old together and see what the future brings us.

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a/n; thank you for readingggg, I hope you enjoyed it and lmk if u have any suggestions for future fics! love you all <33.

Taglist; @idrk2292 @mattsfavseason @aalicats87 @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover

[xazse]

mr compress x kittygirl hybrid! reader and i will worship the ground you walk 😣😣🙏🙏🙏

SWEET GIRL

Synopsis: Mr.Compress feels a certain inkling and intensity within himself.

Notes: this is great I know you just submitted this really recent but I wanted to let some of my fans know that I will now write for MHA!!! SEND ME SOME STUFF (don’t worry to my others who have sent jjk requests I’m working on them<333)) (sorry I just had to do something with the league and them meeting kitty girl)

Pairings: Mr.Compress x KittyGirl!Hybrid

Warnings: Smut + mean!League Members + rough handling + rough kissing + fingering + penetration + Fem!reader + Hybrid!reader

Mr.Compress had dragged in another stray: you he had known for at least a month before introducing you to the league. He found you digging through some rubble searching for food. He had felt extremely bad and just felt the need to take you.

So that’s what he did, he took you and you didn’t fight at all he just went, scooped you up. You looked a tad bit confused but when he gave you some food you were attached, he gave you plenty of opportunities to leave but every time you’d look around for him and once you found him you’d loop your arms with his and follow. It was downright adorable.

After some time had passed he chose to introduce you to his beloved league.

“She looks stupid, get her out.”

“That’s so mean Tomura! I think she looks adoreable!”

“You are very right Toga, Shigaraki isn’t used to cutesy things.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The blue haired man exclaimed from the bar.

“Why not give er’ a change Shigaraki? She could prove to be useful.” Spinner is always trying to be the middle man, Mr.Compress can certainly rely on him to get you in good with everyone.

“Useful my ass.” Dabi’s the one who speaks up.

“It wouldn’t be wise for you to talk, you’re in the same boat as her.” Shigaraki backfires.

“Tried to help you, dick.”

It hadn’t even been 40 minutes sitting as the league chats and discusses various things, Toga and Twice won’t leave you alone they insist on playing with your tail and rubbing your pointy ears: pushing them back just to watch them pop right back in place.

You aren’t complaining one bit, you love the extra attention they’re giving you, you can’t quite make out what they’re saying but nonetheless you know it’s nothing but sweet words minus twice sometimes blurting random crude things.

Leaving them proves to be the worst, “tears” are exchanged when Mr. Compress is ready to depart and you have to leave the new friends you just made. He reassures you that you’ll be able to see everyone again very soon.

Mr compress loves you a tenth fold you’re impressed by his tricks others find to be unfunny but you will sit for hours and watch him show off, clapping with the biggest smile on your cute face. It drives him mad to have his own personal fan.

It makes his cock throb when he’s doing one of his tricks and you look so curious to find out what’s next, he can’t focus on finishing it when you’re swooning right in front of him, he basically attacks you with sloppy kisses.

His thick tongue invades your mouth, his actions aren’t careful, he needs to be inside you right now.

He sits on his hind legs and traps you with his thighs on either side. He takes his hard cock out and jerks himself a few times right over your exposed stomach. you’ve all of a sudden gone shy on him, trying to avoid the intense way he’s staring down at you.

He stops for a moment to rid you of your bra, then your panties whilst also undressing himself fully too.

Even after all this time you’re still hiding your body from him like he hasn’t explored every single inch of you. He pays that no mind and moves to rub your cunt, he makes sure not to directly touch your clit.

He moves his skillful fingers around your lips, dipping in and out of your hole to get you used to the feeling. Sweet moans slip from your throat, your breath hitches everytime he so much as grazes the englared bud.

Impatient Compress starts full on fucking you with his fingers, he has to use a little of his strength to keep your leg nice and still for him. You’re full on moaning, it feels so damn good, the way his fingers abuse your wet hole in the meanest motions he can muster.

He makes eye contact with you when he pulls his fingers out and licks them, making sure to clean them dry.

He’s got you plenty wet, he rubs the tip of his cock in between your lips even touching your sensitive clit, he hadn’t even made you cum and you’re already so jumpy.

His thick cock starts to push inside you, slowly filling you of him, taking him is no walk in the park, he’s more long than anything, you grip whatever you can as he pushes past your tight hole.

Atsuhiro lets you adjust to him, he can hear slight sniffling from you, poor thing, he’ll make you happy in just a moment: that moment being now, he pushes your legs a little towards your torso angling his cock more snuggly.

Atushiro is never one to rush sex with you, he likes to be in the moment so he can enjoy and really feel you but now he can’t wait, he starts thrusting fast and deep, your fat cunt accepting every inch so easily now.

He’s been obsessed with your pussy the first day you and him had sex, you’re so tight and warm, he draws his hips back all the way letting his cock fall out to admire the slick it’s covered in, just to slam right back into you.

“Nnng..”

“Feels… so good Sako..” your moans sound so choked up in your throat, making you all the more desperate for more clearly.

His face is a beautiful shade of pink, groans mixed with yours slipping from his bitten lips, you truly don’t know the effects your cunt has on him, everytime he pulls back you suck him right back in.

Your tail has a mind of its own when it wraps around his torso, moving along with the rhythm of his hips.

You wipe the tears that have found their way to your face, your body spasms in that familiar way, along with your pussy tightening even more around him. He holds you down by your tummy, securing you in place so you don’t thrash everywhere.

He slams down in you one last time, pushing you right over the edge you cum with a loud yelp followed by quiet whines that die down, through this whole thing he’s praising you, kissing your soddened cheeks.

Your chest rapidly tries to calm down, feeling the aftershocks of a nasty orgasm.

Later that night he makes sure to rub your pointy ears and cuddle you as close as possible.

[carto0ncritter]

I wanted to address some of the points your previous asker made https://www.tumblr.com/carto0ncritter/766355644544696320/i-just-want-to-say-that-i-personally-disagree-with, but I kept getting bogged down in the quagmire of it all. In the end I gave up and just let it be long - apologies for the wall of text but I'm tired of seeing the fandom repeat talking points similar to IRL apologia whenever someone isn't a perfect enough victim for them.

1 A fixation on "if Blitzo could say no in this or that specific instance, that 'proves' every other yes was freely given"

This line of argumentations fixated on the idea that if Blitzo wasn't shaking with fear and unable to refuse Stolas every time, he must have felt safe and able to consent every time. But there's a wilful disregard for how the deal works - the basic arrangement is Blitzo gives Stolas the book on the full moon and then they have sex.

The times Blitzo feels able to say no either fall outside that arrangement (Ozzie's being a one-off night out where Blitzo STILL felt the need to apologize for not wanting sex which doesn't say much for how safe he feels to refuse, and dragged a hand over his face when Stolas started talking like he was dreading dealing with Stolas trying to make a move on him) or because Stolas himself gave Blitzo an out. Blitzo wasn't taking months off until Stolas gave him the option, because it's Stolas who holds all the power and what he says, goes. We don't see Blitzo demand a night off and Stolas hand it to him before then - Blitzo phrases it explicitly as Stolas giving him nights off from 'having to' (i.e. a mandatory chore he has to do when asked) sleep with him.

Likewise all the texts show this same dynamic - once s2 happens Stolas is trying to get Blitzo to want to voluntarily spend time with him but Blitzo explicitly says in one text 'It's ur night' because that's how it's worked until now and he had no reason to think otherwise; the deal hadn't ended yet so Blitzo believed the terms were still in effect.

Side note - there's a specific mention of a shot during All 2 U when Blitzo - according to OP - refuses to stay after sex, proving he can say no. First off, saying no only counts if it's before sex, not for cuddling. Again, cuddling falls outside the deal.

And more importantly, I'm wondering if this is the shot being referred to:

https://64.media.tumblr.com/306e7f801fff142d57bee633abdfa9c6/90d50e1d22f5b44b-e8/s400x600/c03e4f8a2f96de0cc9c7add6749cc1e367187d90.jpg

If so, it boggles my mind anyone would use this as 'evidence' that Blitzo could always say no.

Really look at this shot: Blitzo's eyes are narrowed to slits and he looks furious & degraded. It's hard to tell if Blitzo is angry because of the sex he was just forced to have, or he's angry because Stolas is trying to get more out of him while he's trying to leave. Either way I don't see how anyone can look at that expression and think 'there's a man who just had sex/was asked to have sex he's totally enthusiastic about!' Any other show, any other fandom, this would be universally understood as a depiction of the moment right after coerced sex i.e. rape. If there is a single instance of Blitzo not wanting to do it but feeling like he has to, then that is rape. Period. Kill shot. End of discussion. No amount of 'he said no one time/he enjoyed it one time' fixes that or 'proves' all of them were fine. Consent is a case by case basis.

2 Blitzo had other options besides the Grimoire

This feels unrelated tbh; it's edging into 'well Blitzo could have done something else so having sex extorted out of him is his fault!' But to respond quickly:

The crystals existing doesn't mean Blitzo understood 100% how they worked or if he'd be able to use one (he says 'a what now?' or something when Stolas gave him one) or if it was a succubi-only thing and he has no reason to assume Ozzie would just hand him one (especially not once he knows Fizz works with him). By comparison Stolas had a book about them in his library all along apparently, is a prince on friendly terms with Ozzie so in a way better position to ask and had more incentive not to want to risk his book. But he didn't because he knew he could use his book to get sex.

Likewise saying Blitzo could just do Hell assassinations ignores what little worldbuilding around the economy there is. It's well established assassins doing Hell-based missions are more common while offering to kill Earth targets is a USP that brings in a steady client base that helped Blitzo found a business and rent an office (both things it's repeatedly said imps don't normally do). Stolas was under no obligation to let him keep the book, of course, but no one was forcing him to make a favors for favors deal to get sex out of Blitzo (and s2 adding Asmodean Crystals makes the idea that he didn't want to hurt Blitzo's business look 100% false: his only motivation for quid-pro-quoing this is unambiguously to get sex; him framing it as 'supporting' Blitzo is self-aggrandizing narcisstic nonsense).

3 Blitzo is shown wanting sex and wanting Stolas back in Full Moon/Apology Tour

This is a thing the writers like doing - backfilling stuff that should have been shown way earlier in order to rewrite the story into anything they need it to be that second.

S1 Blitzo's attitude to Stolas alternates between repulsed, indifferent and enjoying the power he has over Stolas by being the dominant one. He straight up glares at him like he despises him after Stolas yanks on his face in Truth Seekers (not to mention the chain vision implies he feels trapped and degraded). S2 Blitzo just seems…idk, annoyed by him some of the time? They don't exactly get on better. Then Oops backfills Stolas is being a totally nice person on the phone now and Apology Tour tries to insert flashbacks to stuff we should've seen in the show - i.e. Blitzo actually enjoying his company. Inserting the good times after the two characters have a falling out is totally backwards - we need the actual care and attraction establishing beforehand, not after. Stolas laughing at some of Blitzo's jokes and Blitzo worrying Stolas can actually get hurt is such a bare minimum floor for a ship

As it is the change is so abrupt it's just as easy to argue Stolas has made Blitzo believe all he's good for is sex (and he's panicking because Stolas has cut him off twice now without attempting to talk things out or apologize for any of his demeaning, objectifying behavior, which would make anyone think they aren't even good enough to exploit anymore and that they deserve to be mistreated without explanation) or that Stolas ending the arrangement just set off his abandonment complex. That and trauma bonding is a thing that could definitely happen with a 'relationship' as toxic as this one. Putting it short, the writing is so poor that even though they obviously want us to think Blitzo actually likes Stolas it's kind of hard to tell what he even likes about him or when it started.

4 The closing point

So the original post ends on "it's pretty clear that Blitzo at no point felt coerced into having sex with Stolas, and the people that claim otherwise I have good grounds to believe aren't even watching the same show anymore."

On some level that's true, because Helluva isn't the same show anymore.

Season 1 opened with an episode where Blitzo couldn't give informed consent to Stolas' deal because his life was in danger and his business was being threatened, and Stolas knew all of that. He could see Blitzo was injured and hear the gunshots along with Blitzo whispering and telling him repeatedly to get to the point. He took a hurried 'fine, whatever!' as consent.

He ignored Blitzo telling him not to hit on him at Loo Loo Land (multiple times) - the fact Blitzo seemed legitimately worried Stolas would try to 'diddle his holes' while Stolas' daughter was there speaks volumes to just how safe he felt around Stolas. Harvest Moon has a similar arc - Blitzo takes Stolas' invite in good faith and in return gets demeaned in front of a crowd of imps. Once again he feels so disrespected by Stolas by the end of the episode he explicitly mentions the 'thirsty owl onstage' as the reason why he didn't go to the harvest moon ceremony and had Striker not hurt M&M, he probably could have persuaded Blitzo into joining him. He feels so safe around Stolas, apparently, that when Stolas asks for a reward after saving him he immediately assumes Stolas expects Blitzo to pay him with his body - something which Stolas immediately agrees to. All this culminates in the season finale where he uses Stolas to get into a club and is surprised when Stolas tries to talk to him like a person for once. He's never done that before.

But the damage is done by then. He drops Stolas off, looks desperate to be able to leave when he thinks Stolas is going to try and get sex out him (like always), then tells Stolas all he wants is for Blitzo to fuck him and he makes that really clear 'all the time'.

But what in a decent show would be a condemnation of Stolas' behavior because Blitzo did feel coerced into sex at several points (read: the whole first season, actully) was in fact the writers trying to make the viewers feel sorry for Stolas - a fact that's only come into sharper and more awful focus the more they double down on making Stolas the saddest prince to ever exist in s2 and throw everyone else under the bus to do it.

Finishing off, there's really only one thing I can say left to anyone still insisting the writers aren't trying to retcon the rape ship that they wrote. And that's this:

What Stolas has done to Blitzo is the definition of quid pro quo sexual coercion.

To quote from a source:

https://www.wmlawyers.com/oakland-sexual-harassment-attorneys/eeoc-definition/quid-pro-quo-harassment/

���Quid pro quo” literally means “this for that” in Latin. Quid pro quo sexual harassment occurs when employment, pay, benefits, title, position or other opportunities for advancement or training are conditioned on the submission to unwelcome sexual advances. Whether the harassment is explicit or implicit, it is illegal.

Read that again - when employment is on the condition of submission to unwelcome sexual advances. That's literally what the deal is - Blitzo keeps his job if he sleeps with Stolas. And as we've seen in most of s1, the advances are unwelcome. Even if Blitzo had been more enthusiastic from the start, his job would still depend on keeping Stolas sexually gratified.

A dynamic like that is always going to be prone to abuse no matter how many 'but Blitzo enjoyed it this one time!!' caveats the writers stick on it, because if he had a day where he wasn't feeling into it he would feel obliged to hide his feelings and sleep with Stolas anyway because his livelihood literally depends on it. That isn't informed consent. And this rhetoric is pernicious and should go the way of the dodo

THIS

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hii, I love your fics, especially the Moon Knight ones, sometimes I'm so giddy that I need to take a step back and remember myself that they aren't real.

May I request headcanons about the Moon Boys overhearing reader talking to their pet (probably a kitten) about how much they love the boys, and their quirks and their little differences and just going on and on about how perfect they are?

I understand if not, I will love whatever you post regardless!

Oh my gosh, this is so adorable! I hope I did it justice!

Just Happy

Jake Lockley x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Jack eavesdrops.

Warnings: Fluff, Jake being emotional, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 482

You stroke behind Salem’s ears, the small kitten’s eyes are closed, his head pressed as close as he can to your hand. 

“You like that, hmm?” You smile, “Who’s my favourite little guy?” 

Salem purrs loudly. 

Jake smiles from his position in the doorway, his hair still damp from the shower. Both Marc and Steven were still asleep, Steven hadn’t come to bed until well into the early morning and now that things in their life were calmer Marc was using the opportunity to catch up on fifteen years of rushed power naps. 

“Who is it, hmm?” You lean down and kiss the top of Salem’s head three times. 

Jake can’t help himself, he slowly takes out his phone from his pocket, not wanting to alert you to his presence. He finds the perfect angle and then starts filming, he’d have to send this to the group chat Steven had created. Affectionately called ‘The Body 💪📖🚗⚾’

“It’s yoooooooou!” You say sing-song to Salem and grin, “Well you’re my favourite little cat guy. I think Steven, Marc, and Jake might complain if they’re not my favourites too. Though I don’t think they’d mind being second best to you.” 

At the sound of Steven, Marc, and Jake’s names Salem perks up his ears and meows softly. 

“Yeah! You love them too, don’t you? They are the best, we love them so much. Because they’re so kind and great. And they give you the best pets, don’t they? Well, second best, I’m best obviously.” 

Jake covers his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh. He’s smiling so hard it’s hurting his cheeks, his chest so light it’s almost painful. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, his throat thick. He tries to force the emotion down, but it just builds and builds. 

“I know part of the reason you’re so excited when you hear their names is you think you’re gonna get extra treats, I know they give you more than they should.” You smile. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean a little closer and Salem looks up at you with large eyes. “I love them so much, literally so much. Every day my heart gets a little bigger with how much I love them. Opposite Grinch situation going on in here.” You tap your chest. 

“Amor,” Jake’s voice makes you jump, and you turn from your position on the floor just in time for him to wrap his arms around you in a bear hug. 

You let out a little oof of air and then giggle, “Were you spying on me?” 

“Yes.” He mutters into your neck, his voice is thick and wavering. 

“Hey, you okay?” You stroke his back and try to move to see his face. But he just snuggles deeper into your chest and squeezes you tighter.

“I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” 

“Just happy, my love. Just happy.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[viceroywrites]

liquor on your lips (2/2)

you met stan pines on your first day working at the dead end motel.

in just a week, you were addicted to him.

mullet stan x gn!reader

part one here

inspired by you can be the boss by lana del rey

cw: smut ahead, praise, dirty talking, creampie

taglist: @autistic-rainbow

I saved it, I waited, I called it.

Your shift at the bar was closing up, leaning over to wipe down the counter and grabbing the tip jar to see how you did for the day.

Thumbing through the dollar bills, you tap them on the table to straighten them out before opening your bag to toss them inside before pausing at the sight of the cigarette that you had tossed inside the evening prior.

‘Give it a call when you get off tomorrow and let me know.’

Should you do it?

You should be happy, elated even that you have this opportunity to spend more time with the man that had charmed you in a matter of days.

Your interactions with Stan thus far had been fairly casual in nature. 

Sure, there was a lot of banter and playful flirting that happened every night but going on what essentially was a date seemed like a huge step.

A step you were uncertain about taking given the fact that at any given moment, Stan could up and leave.

You toss the wad of cash into your bag, deciding that the issue could wait at least until you get home and take a nice long shower to worry about.

Back at the motel, Stan twirls the extension cord of the phone mindlessly while he lies in bed. His eyes flicker to the phone every so often as he scratches his stomach, still in his white undershirt and boxers.

What the hell was he thinking offering his number to you?

Was he that lonely?

Stan sits up, deciding he needed a smoke break to clear his head and at least get out of limbo. He slips on his jeans from the night prior and grabs the room key and his pack of cigarettes, stepping out. 

Leaning against the wall, one foot propped up, he lights the cigarette that dangles from his lips, feeling the harsh smoke fill his lungs before exhaling it out. Reaching up to brush his long strands of hair out of his eyes, Stan winces as his knuckles graze against the cut that is a reminder of last night’s events.

“Shit…” He hisses under his breath, cigarette resting between his fingers as the dull ache creeps up. Stan clenches his jaw, trying to ignore the pain while he takes another drag from his cigarette. Glancing at the window outside his room, he sees his reflection.

The heavy, dark circles under his eyes show his fatigue.

The five o'clock shadow across his chin, not able to afford a proper razor in ages.

The chocolate brown hair atop his head grown out into a mullet, much to his chagrin.

His eyes, almost blood-shot, looked drained of hope.

The definition of exhaustion stared back at him. 

Man, he was tired of running.

That first day when you had offered to pay for his room, the first night in ages that he was able to lay his head on a pillow and get some rest, you gave him something he had been longing for in ages.

Stability.

A helping hand.

Suddenly the sound of the phone ringing cuts through his thoughts. Stan scrambles to unlock the door, practically leaping onto the mattress as his hand removes the phone from its receiver.

“Hello?” He says, slightly out of breath as his heart is pounding through his chest. 

God, what was he doing, waiting around for a call like some lovesick teen?

“Did you just get done running a marathon or somethin? You should be resting…” You ask with a raised eyebrow, toweling off the wet strands of your hair as the phone rests in between the crook of your neck and your shoulders.

“Didn’t realize I was signing up for a lecture when I picked up the phone, toots.” Stan grumbled, resting a hand over his heart in a feeble attempt to slow down its rapid pace.

“Well, I guess I’ll just hang up then…” You say playfully, giggling as Stan’s gruff voice says with a sudden urgency, “Wait, wait!”

“Surprised you actually gave me a call…” Stan mutters to which you blink in surprise, “Why are you surprised?”

“I dunno, figured you’d rather spend your day off doing something else other than getting dinner or a drink with a drifter.” Stan admits with a shrug to his shoulders.

“You know I never said that I was taking up your offer…” You tease, grinning once again as you have him stammering over his words. 

For someone who gives off a rough demeanor, it’s amusing to see him turn into a pile of mush.

“Stan, I’m just pulling your leg…” You chuckle, “ Did you have anywhere in particular in mind?”

Stan pauses for a few beats, and you stare at the phone wondering if you got caught off.

“Can you still hear me?” 

“I heard ya.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“... You’re actually serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious, Stanley.” 

God, the way you said his name sounded like a choir of angels to him, ready to take him to heaven.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get this far, toots.” Stan admitted, “Didn’t think someone like you would even dare look my way, let alone go on a date with me.”

A date.

He confirmed that it was a date.

“So this is a date?” You say with a sly grin, trying to ignore how your heart beat is practically pounding in your ears.

Stan in response turns beet red, clutching the phone tighter, “Well, only if you want it to be, sweetheart.”

“It’s a date then. Pick me up at my place at 7. There’s a diner near my apartment that has the best shakes. You got a pen to write down my address?” You ask hurriedly before he could take it back. You snicker as you hear clamoring on the other end of the receiver, hearing Stan curse under his breath for the damn pen. 

“Ready.” He finally says, having found a pen and grabbed a crumpled up receipt out of the trash bin.

You share your address with him and after hanging up, Stan flops back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling in awe.

He hadn’t been on a date since that hippie stole Carla McCorckle from him.

“Alright, Stanley, you can do this. Sure, you may be a little rusty but you got that natural Pines charm.” He says, trying to be his own personal hype man as he gets up from the bed.

Heading to the bathroom, he looks in the mirror and blinks, “Yeesh. Should probably try to clean up a little bit…” Stan mutters, scratching the stubble on his chin.

He has a white corvette like I want it

A fire in his eyes, know, I saw it

He's bleeding from his brain and his wallet.

You glanced over your shoulder, almost anxiously staring at the clock as you plead for the minutes to go faster.

It’s 6:58 PM.

You turn your attention back onto the full-length mirror in your room, running your hands over the fabric of your outfit. You decided to dress up a little more than your usual attire that you would wear while working at the motel though you secretly hoped Stan didn’t randomly have a suit in his trunk that he was going to whip out for the occasion.

Though you did wonder what he could be wearing, cheeks reddening at the possibilities.

A knock on your apartment door startled you, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your eyebrow raises as you had told Stan to press the buzzer so you could let him in but when you go to look through the peephole, you see him standing outside your door and quickly undo the chain lock and open the door.

Stan stands before you, trading his usual attire for a maroon button-up that has two loose buttons to reveal a gold medallion that rested on his dark, wispy chest hairs and a pair of black slacks. In right hand, he holds a clumsy mess of various flowers wrapped in… is that a newspaper?

“You clean up pretty good, Pines…” You say with a sweet smile. Truthfully, this outfit was even better than what your thoughts could have conjured up. Your eyes flick towards the flowers, “Are these for me? You didn’t have to..” 

Stan places the flowers in your arms, “Well, I couldn’t show up empty-handed. What kinda guy do you take me for?” He says before glancing over his shoulder, “Hey, you don’t think your neighbor two doors down reads the paper regularly, do ya?”

You laugh, putting two and two together, “I don’t think so, let me put these in some water and we can head out. You can come in, make yourself comfortable.” You gesture, letting Stan step through the threshold before closing the door behind the two of you.

“You know you usually invite someone in after the date, doll.” Stan comments playfully, taking a seat on your cozy sofa as he watches your figure disappear into the kitchen to grab a vase. His eyes roam around the apartment, admiring the little touches you put to the place that made it feel like home. 

“What can I say? I like to cut right to the chase.” You tease, walking back into the living room with the assortment of flowers in a vase. You lean forward to place the vase on the coffee table in front of him and Stan finds his gaze drifting to your behind before quickly averting it as you stand up right, looking over at him, “You ready?”

Stan clears his throat, standing up from his seat, his cheeks tinted slightly pink, “Yup, you know how to get to the place?”

“Yup!” You say, grabbing your bag from the counter before raising an eyebrow.

“Why are your cheeks red? Is it hot in here?”

“Alright, let’s move it!” Stan says hurriedly, placing a warm calloused hand on the small of your back to usher you out the door.

It was your turn for your cheeks to turn red.

The liquor on your lips.

The liquor on your lips.

The liquor on your lips makes you dangerous.

“After being chased around a neighborhood by a husband who thought I was sleeping with his wife for hours, I stopped doing door to door sales. I mostly stuck to infomercials, you know the ones that cycle every few hours?” Stan explained, waving around the cheese fry in his hand.

You listen to his story with amusement, resting your chin on your hands as you take a sip of your milkshake, “Yeah, I’m familiar… surprised I haven’t seen you on my TV ever.”

“Well, when I shot them, I had a full mustache.” Stan admitted, holding the fry over his upper lip to mimic the facial hair.

Your laughter ran through Stan’s ears at the visual, leaning forward to pluck the fry from his finger and steal it from his grasp, taking a bite into it, “Now that’s something I would have paid to see.”

“Trust me, not worth the price, sweetheart.” Stan says with a relaxed grin, his arms spreading across the vinyl booth as he leans back.

His brown eyes take in your gorgeous features before catching the stray bit of cheese that was in the corner of your mouth. He can’t help himself, reaching over to run a thumb over it and pulling back to lick the cheese off his thumb.

You stare back at him flustered, your lips parted. Stan registers what he just did, blinking back at you before rubbing the back of his neck abashedly, “Sorry, had a little something on your lip.”

“No.. don’t apologize. I… liked it.” You admit with a cheeky grin, reaching for one of Stan’s hands that rests on the table. Your thumb runs over his knuckles that are still bandaged from the previous day, your touch delicate as you do so. 

“I gotta ask, sweetheart, what makes you like a guy like me?” Stan asks, entranced by your touch as he can’t help but spread his fingers out to intertwine your fingers with his larger ones.

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“C’mon toots, I know first impressions matter and what you saw the first day you met me was a guy in a ratty old hoodie with no money to his name, barely able to afford one night at a motel.” Stan chuckled with a bitter edge of his voice.

“Well, that’s not what I saw.” You say almost defensively, squeezing Stan’s hand firmly, “I saw a guy who was down on his luck… who just needed a warm place to stay for the night. What you showed me is you’re funny, quick-witted, a con man.. But a business savvy one.”

“Ouch, on the conman…”

“Am I wrong?”

“No… but you gotta admit that I got good ideas.”

“You do… you just need the right audience for them.” You chuckle, “Now, no more of this self-deprecating talk, let’s go dancing, there’s a bar a few blocks down that does disco nights on Fridays.”

“You wanna keep this date going, toots?” Stan says a bit nervously, knowing he was only able to scrounge up enough money to cover the bill.

“I got the drinks, Stan. Don’t worry.” You say, squeezing his hand again in reassurance, “Plus I can’t let you waste an outfit like this on just a diner.”

I knew it was wrong, I’m beyond it.

I tried to be strong but I lost it.

To say Stan swept you off your feet was an understatement.

You weren’t expecting him to be practically dragging you onto the dance floor despite your protests of having two left feet after a few drinks in your system, his feet moving effortlessly as he guides you with his hands.

Stan watches with glee as his arm raises to spin you, watching how the disco lights illuminate your face. He spins you into his frame before dipping you low, your noses brushing at the proximity.

You stare up at him, a hand resting on his bicep. Your breaths mingle, inches away from each other’s lips. Time stands still as Stan can’t help but admit huskily, “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Something in you snapped and you broke the distance, hands reaching up to cup Stan’s cheeks and pull him into a sudden kiss. His eyes widened in surprise, almost dropping you in alarm but melting into the kiss as he returned the passionate liplock.

Without breaking the kiss, Stan pulls you up, large hands drifting down to grip your hips. You feel your stomach doing somersaults at the sensation of his fingertips digging further into your flesh almost possessively. 

Like you would disappear between his fingertips if he didn’t hold on tight.

Pulling back reluctantly for air, your chest moves up and down as you pant softly. Your eyes twinkle underneath the colorful hues of the disco ball, gazing up at Stan with want.

“Shit, Pines… didn’t think you were that smooth.” You say breathlessly with a cheeky grin.

“Look who’s talking… didn’t think ya had it in you to pull the first move.” Stan teases, “Not that I’m complainin’ about being proven wrong.”

Your hands rest on Stan’s chest, “Well, just cause I made the first move doesn’t mean you can’t make one yourself.”

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?”

“Not a challenge, more like a wish.”

“Well, I can definitely make that wish come true.” Stan chuckles, leaning for another heated kiss. Stan’s lips search for yours almost hungrily, his tongue snaking out to run over your bottom lip almost pleading for entry. You allow it, a soft whine ripping from your throat as you taste the whiskey on his tongue. 

Those sweet noises that he’s able to pull from you cause Stan to grunt, pulling you further into him. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers running through his brown locks before playfully tugging at the ends of his mullet. He groans against your lips, loving the sensation more than he would care to admit.

Maybe having a mullet wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. 

Stan pulls back, smirking as he stares down at you pouting back at him, wondering why he stopped. His response is tilting his head to pepper kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You can’t help but giggle when his stubble tickles your skin, arching your neck in response, “Whoa there, tiger… we’re still in public, ya know?”

“Sorry, toots, can’t help myself…” Stan mutters against your ear, pulling you in by your waist so you’re both chest to chest, “You just taste so sweet… ”

Shit, your knees felt weak after hearing his deep voice rasp that against your ear.

You really tried to resist as much as you could.

But something about Stan Pines had your resolve crumbling before your eyes.

Fuck it.

“Stanley…” You coo in a sticky, saccharine tone that causes his arm hairs… and something else to stand up. Your fingers massage the nape of his neck, pressing your lips against his ear, “I would love to give you a taste… maybe somewhere more private.”

You let out a squeal in surprise as Stan practically drags you toward the exit, making a beeline back to his car. He looks back at you, his eyes darkened with lust, “Oh, I plan on getting more than a taste, doll.”

You taste like the 4th of July.

Malt liquor on your breath, my, my.

The sound of jingling keys and smacking lips against skin echoed through the hallway outside of your apartment. 

“Stan… cut it out for just a sec, I’m trying to get the door open..” You whine breathlessly, biting your lower lip as Stan’s teeth graze against the sensitive spot on your neck. You can feel his hardened bulge against your backside, his grip on your hips possessive.

“Alright, I’ll let up on ya.” Stan chuckles at your whine, pulling away reluctantly. He watches your fingers still fumble with the keys in amusement despite him halting his relentless flurry of kisses and love bites.

The moment the door opens, Stan’s arm wraps around your frame and hoists you over his broad shoulder, causing you to burst in a fit of laughter. Stan snickers when he closes the door behind him, feeling you playfully flail and stomp your fists on his back with the exaggerated plea to release you. He finds his way to your bedroom, nudging the loose door with his foot to get through the threshold before tossing you on the bed gently.

You have a beat to process your back hitting the soft material of your mattress before feeling the bed dip down and your lips being ensnared into another heated kiss. 

Your fingers find themselves gripping the back of Stan’s button-up, wrinkling the fabric underneath as you cling onto him. His lips slowly descend down your jawline, to your neck before his hands hover over the fabric of your top. He pulls back briefly, “Can I, sweetheart?” He asks breathlessly.

You nod eagerly and his hands slowly pull off the top to reveal more of your bare skin. “Jesus, are you sure you’re not an angel? Look at ya..” Stan says, his touch over your exposed flesh sending shivers down your spine.

“Well, don’t just look… you can touch more.” You say with a desperate edge to your voice. Stan chuckles darkly at your impatience, deciding to give into your demands. His tongue glides over your collarbone, deciding downward before capturing a sensitive peak in between his lips, suckling firmly. The delicious sounds you make go straight to his groin, spurring him on to tease, pinch and suck on your hardened nipples.

He needed to hear how good he was making you feel.

“Stan… more, please.” You whimper out, your legs wrapped around him.

“Tell me how much you need this, angel.” Stan grins against your flesh.

“Fuck, I need you, Stan. Please, you make me feel so good, I need your tongue, your fingers, your cock, anything!” You moan out after a particular torturous squeeze of nipples.

Your praise, your pleas caused any self-restraint Stan was holding onto to fall apart, his hands tugging down on your bottoms. Your hips snap up to allow him to shove the fabric down your ankles before he pretty much rips off his own stuffy shirt, revealing to you his chest hair, broad shoulders and biceps and round stomach. 

Stan practically melts as your hands glide over his chest and down his stomach. His abdomen tensing when your nails make their way down his happy trail to start unbuttoning his tight pants.

After you undo the top button and zipper, Stan’s hands join yours, impatiently tugging off the fabric. His rock hard shaft springs out from its confines, tip red and leaking with pre-cum.

Just as your hand is about to reach down to give it some attention, Stan catches your wrist, shaking his head. “Another time, sweetheart… I need ya now.” 

Your legs spread as Stan adjusts himself between them, his fingers gripping the meat of your thighs. You can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious when the man above you is staring down at your lower parts with such intensity and attempt to squeeze your legs shut. Unfortunately, Stan’s hold on your thighs is firm, holding them apart with a click of his tongue, “None of that, toots. Don’t hide such a gorgeous sight from me.”

Toes curl against the sheets and nails dig into Stan’s shoulder blades as he decides to torture you just a little bit more, brushing the tip of his shaft against your opening and teasing it with shallow movements. After getting his fill of your desperate whimpers, he finally shows you some mercy, groaning when he fully sheaths his cock inside you.

“Jesus, angel… you even feel like heaven..” Stan groans, pumping his hips slowly as he finds his rhythm, “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll… I swear.” He holds onto your hips for dear life, his fingertips practically imprinted into your flesh. Your walls clamp around him tightly, hissing through his teeth as his hips pull back and forth.

You relish in the delicious stretch as Stan’s cock digs deeper with every thrust into your walls, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut when his shaft bottoms out inside your walls. Stan shudders, feeling every inch of his aching cock being squeezed down by your warm walls.

After giving you a second to adjust to his full length, he finally lets go, his hips letting loose. His pace is quick yet powerful, his thick tip kissing that sweet spot that has your thighs trembling over and over again. Stan gazes down at you in awe, relishing every single moan and cry that escapes your throat. He lets out a deep chuckle, hearing you babble for more, “Oh, you need more? Such a greedy little thing.”

Stan gladly indulges in your pleas, his pace now brutal as he hammers his cock at an almost erratic pace. The sound of your hips lewdly smacking together echoing through the room, your cries silenced by Stan’s searing kiss, swallowing them up greedily. He presses all his weight atop of you, pinning your legs back at an angle that allows his cock to drive deeper inside of you.

You feel a warmth boiling in the pit of your stomach, your legs wrapping around Stan’s frame as your nails dig red welts into his back. “S-Stan… I…” You gasp in between breaths of your heated kisses, causing Stan to pause to stare down at you. “Ya close, sweets?” You nod in response, so cock-drunk that you can’t form a coherent sentence.

Focusing all his efforts to bring you over the edge, Stan reaches for your chest, thumbing your sensitive nipples, causing you to flinch and squirm beneath him. His face buried in the crook of your neck as he groans against your ear, “So fucking good for me, you take my cock perfectly, angel. God, you don’t know what you do to me..” His hips reel back, delivering slow yet deep strokes that finally push you and him over the edge.

Stan grins against your neck, feeling and hearing you come undone beneath him. He loves how you latch onto him, clinging on for dear life as he slows his strokes down to help you ride out your orgasm. His cock twitches with each lazy drag, murmuring sweet praise into your ear, “That’s it… did so good for me, sweetheart.” With a stutter in his own hips, he cums as well, filling you to the brim with a guttural groan before collapsing on your chest.

You both lay there for a while, your thighs aching in the best way possible. You run your fingers through Stan’s brown locks, curling the ends of his mullet in your finger. The sound of your heartbeat echoes through Stan’s eardrums, relishing in your warmth. 

“Um… toots?” Stan mutters, causing you to look down with a raised eyebrow. 

It’s almost comical to see the man that just had you seeing stars looking abashed as he asks, “Could.. I..”

“Spit out, Pines.” You chuckle teasingly.

“Hey, you’re the one who couldn’t even form a sentence a few minutes ago.” Stan huffs before muttering against your skin, “Mind if I stay the night…?”

You stare down at Stan in understanding, tilting his chin to pull him in for a soft kiss.

“Of course, Stan. You can stay as long as you need.”

You can be the boss

Taste like a keg party, back on the sauce

I like you a lot, I like you a lot

Don't let it stop

[asgardian--angels]

I don't talk about this much but I'm just going to say it now.

there's something uniquely vile about being the daughter of a father who is a trump supporter. and not just a casual supporter, a full drank-the-kool-aid moon-landing-was-fake deep red neonazi maga crackpot. because I had to watch that change happen over the last decade. my father, an intelligent, introspective scientist, whose brain has essentially turned to mush and critical thinking skills shriveled up and died thanks to that orange rapist.

He has always loved me, supported me to be whatever I want to be, given me the most opportunities he could in life. He taught me to be kind, and forgiving, and to remember that we are all in this together. And now, while still claiming to feel that way, he vehemently, and viciously, spews hateful rhetoric and vitriol against women, against climate change, against democrats, against all the things I am, against the field of study I've dedicated my life, my soul to. We can no longer even have a regular conversation because all he does all day is sit online and watch trump rallies, listen to 'patriot' podcasts, and troll people on forums. He has nothing else to talk about, and cannot be negotiated with. Him and I used to love having sparring matches of wit, picking topics to debate in good faith. Now, any hint of a challenge and he becomes enraged, petty, and belittling. He somehow maintains this hypocritic fallacy in his mind that he is a good person, that he does everything to make my life better, and that humankind must come together to make a better future. Just, not *those* people, I guess, not them or them or them who aren't even people to him.

And I must occupy some gray area in his mind, Schrodinger's political prisoner. Because even though he knows I am a democrat, that I am a woman who will be affected by these laws, that I study climate change in the work that he supposedly supports, I must not be to him, one of 'those' people. I'm not like 'those' democrats, 'those' women, 'those' climate change cronies. Except when I am, because if we argue, if we discuss policy at all, I am just a girl, under his roof, and I have no idea what I'm talking about - because I'm young, because women aren't capable of understanding His greatness, because Elite Academia has brainwashed me into being a liberal. That my mom and I are ganging up on him, constantly, to paint him as the villain when he's only the victim. He's going to elect the man who will save us all, whether we want it or not. Our say doesn't matter, because we just don't understand.

I miss the father I knew. He was always petty, always ready to poke and prod - he hurt my feelings plenty, but I could deal with it. But I felt he was genuinely good at his core, that he tried his best. Now, I don't know him. I don't recognize him anymore. I've imagined so many times what I would say to him if I could give a speech, or write a letter, where he could not talk back and just had to listen. I don't know if I'll ever get that chance, or take it. But I know he has truly no idea how hurt and betrayed I am, and he wouldn't believe me if I told him. He knows no shame, and he does not apologize.

I'm not looking forward to spending the winter at home with him every day for two months. I don't see how I can look him in the eye. And how dare he look me in the eye after fucking me over.

I love my father, no matter what, and that's why it hurts me so badly to see him change into a stranger, and wonder if there was anything more I could have done to change his mind before this transformation completed. Knowing that it's not my responsibility to argue with him to try and make him see reason when he's too far gone and all it does is make me feel like shit, and yet.

I'm sorry to everyone who may relate to this within their own families. It's probably going to get worse. These men will feel empowered to speak their minds and force you to hear it. They try to provoke you, just so they can say you're hysterical or overreact as women do, when you get reasonably upset. Know that you're not alone in this, Trump has truly torn families apart in ways that I don't think will ever heal.

[galaxy-fleur]

I hope more dad leon questions are ok?

something something that's been on my mind, what if remake leon (after reaching early 30s ) suggest his s/o that they have a baby but she is reluctant and unsure about it?

while leon is craving for normalcy and an escape and his emotion got the better of him but she's afraid of not being able to do it or whether she'd be a good mum and the like

Hmm, I don't think that would be a big issue, honestly? If we take that you two assumedly have been together for a while now, it's not like you feeling hesitant about it would make him feel upset or angry with you. Yes, Leon wants a simpler, cozier life (if we're talking about a scenario of him actually having the opportunity to do that). He wants that with you, though. You're a team, and your thoughts and desires are not any less valuable than his own. I'd even say that he tends to neglect his needs sometimes.

So I can see this going two ways.

He either backpedals on the whole idea once he sees you're a bit uncomfortable and doesn't bring it back up for a while because he doesn't want to make you feel pressured, or... you two have a more open conversation about the whole thing. Granted, the first option will probably lead to the second one eventually, but still.

Having kids is scary and a lot of work. No matter how you have children. He wouldn't want you to go through with something so life-changing if you're not completely sure and eager. And if you're not, that's fine, too. He's willing to wait. To talk about it more, lay out your options and take it one step at a time instead of just jumping into this idea.

And if you'll never feel ready? Well, you'll just have to adopt a puppy. Or so he jokes while pressing a kiss to your forehead. Or perhaps a parrot. A big one. He heard those are technically like toddlers that never grow up. A perfect option. Plus, Sherry would love that.

Point is, he wouldn't want you to feel nervous of disappointing him or holding him back just because you're not as on board with it as he is. He wants a family with you because he loves you. He wants a future with you, whatever that may look like. If you'll want kids one day? Just know he'll be ecstatic to hear that. And if you don't? That means you two will get more time to spend together, with no distractions getting in the way. He'd be a damn fool to complain about that.

Either way, he will remind you that you are not alone in this. If you are just worried about not being a great parent, he'll reassure you that he'll be right there with you, every step of the way. Though the joys and the hurdles, the wins and losses. He wants it all, not just the good stuff. So you have nothing to worry about.

Adoption is always an option, too. If you are someone who headcanons his backstory as him losing his parents at a young age, that'll just makes the whole idea that much more heartwarming to think about.

[plida]

Words of encouragement for my US mutuals

Hid the text behind keep reading, just in case someone really doesn't want to interact with posts on election.

Hey guys. This march I went to my first ever election. Attending protests is too dangerous here, it's scary to speak out publicly against the government, so the election was the only tool I was brave enough to use.

Vladimir Putin won with 87%. The results might have been fabricated, might have been not, I'm claiming ignorance. No matter the case, in the end we're stuck with him for at least 6 more years.

It's scary. It sucks. You feel powerless.

But you learn to live with it. You have to focus on your studies, your work, your family, your friends. Call it defeatism, maybe, but if you do not have enough material and mental resources to deal with the dictatorship, you do not have to do it. And that's OK.

It doesn't mean you can't try. If they take all the tools away, like protesting, you can still talk to people you are close with, influence them and work on your social connections.

And if the opportunity presents itself, you then will be able to do something drastic, to change the system, hopefully. 50% of the country is on your side, and you are used to activism. You can still learn to live in a situation like mine - where there's 0 hope for doing anything proactive, as most of the country is against you and the government has guns. But you have more chances in US, please remember that.

I'm not sure what Trump administration is going to do to queer rights. In Russia LGBT is considered to be a terrorist organisation. As a queer person myself, it means I can't be loud about it, I can't wear pride flags, etc. But I can still talk about it. If you're scared they're going to get you for simply being queer, please don't be.

Even if they really want to get rid of queerness, they can't realistically achieve it by giving out punishments to everyone for simply being queer.

Again, comparing Russia to US, there are waay less open queer people here than in america. Do they still bother going after me for saying I'm bi in telegram dms or on tumblr? No! They shut down sites with LGBT content, they punish out-spoken popular figures, but they don't have enough resources to punish every queer citizen.

Just be on the look out for the news. If it goes in the bad direction - pay attention and be a bit quieter. But please don't scare yourself with the worst case scenarios. It's not going to be that, it's going to suck, but you can and will persevere.

Those are basically all of my thoughts atm. Don't lose yourself in the following 4 years. I won't lie and say it's going to be 100% OK, but you will adapt and thrive.

Hugging everyone tightly.

You got this!

[eunchancorner]

from stormcloud to ray of sunshine

or at least a normal cloud

Lmao ye, very easily too

[sonknuxadow]

thinks about the idw sonic issue where rouge and amy and cream went on a mission together and they were staying at that hotel or resort or whatever it was and amy and cream were eating breakfast and rouge shows up at the table like Damnnn everybody here is wearing cheap jewelry. Not worth stealing. and amy is like Ummm...... is that really the best example to be setting for cream :/ and rouge is like Absolutely not cream if youre going to try to rob a bunch of people at a hotel make sure theyre rich first okay

[dirt-str1der]

Love characterising nishikiyama as a booze hound drug hound meth addict high every day body mass 75% alcohol hands constantly shaking literally spacing out while driving fifty over the speed limit using elderly folk as speedbumps one hand on the wheel and one hand free to do more drugs and coming into work while functionally deaf and blind and he is still leagues more competent at his job than kiryu

[ibetitdoes]

OUGHGHGUGHGHG

[melonpond]

I think it should be absolutely mandatory that people work at least a month in a blue collar job and take time to learn about their coworkers before making a statement about blue collar work. I simply think it would fix so many things.

[waterberry-strawmelon]

I know it’s my own damn fault, but I can’t help feeling bitter and disappointed about Fantasy High Junior Year not really exploring/even mentioning Riz’s sexuality any further than what scraps we got sophomore year