#its not like he got bit and was immediately evil

[goobertsnoobert]

Uhhh uhh under the cut is her lore (very inaccurate to Invincible lore probably but she's an OC so it doesn't matter)

Tbh I'm nervous a bit but this IS just for fun so I shouldn't be worrying😭

Her fake human name is Celia, she's from Mars, and she's super silly.

One day she steals a ship and flees her home, almost gets killed but manages to survive. She goes to Earth and when she arrives it's around the time when Invincible was fighting Conquest. She actually crashed the ship but shhhh. She tried to hide from people around her because she didn't have a human form for herself yet, almost died (again) from the falling rubble and stuff lol.

Uhh uhh she saw a small glimpse of Conquest while she was hiding and his design stayed stuck in her head. After Conquest was defeated and stuff she just kinda hid in the shadows and listened into people's conversations. She eventually found out his name and what he did which made her think "that kinda sucks he's a bad guy... hey wait a second... lowkey what if I was like him but not evil" so she made herself a superhero costume inspired by the Viltrumite uniform and named herself "Council" (very clever, Celia).

When she first started fighting crime she only budged with the smaller villains that never really made it into the news. Slowly she started fighting more of the "mainstream" (if that's the right word) villains and crossed paths with the Guardians of the Globe. She was mistaken as an actual Viltrumite and was almost killed.

When they got to learn more about her, first off they immediately figured out she was a Martian, but she also didn't become an official member of the GotG like Shapesmith, she just became a backup like the other heroes that didn't make the cut. She now lives with these backup superheroes and it's cool.

Has she ever talked with Shapesmith? Yeah, I'd like to imagine they're friends. Maybe more than friends... (yumeshipping at its peak yes)

Does she die? Yeah. At some point another viltrumite (which is an OC of mine) comes to Earth and all the superheroes are sent out to try and help defeat them, Council being one of them. However, she gets killed by them and they mock her death (I wonder what this is a reference to...)

But yeah this is all of the lore I have for Council/Celia! I hope u guys like her :3

[legogender]

okay i have to say i am actually a strong defender of Snake That Makes You Evil. it sounds stupid on paper but thats only if u take it at face value? i do actually think the concept is crazy good what with the venom slowly corrupting how garmadon thinks about things and him being fully aware but unable to stop it.

its also not Just the venom that makes him evil. in the spinjitzu brothers books you can actively watch the fsm and wu and… really EVERYONE around garmadon become more and more wary of him despite not much really changing. it becomes a permanent blight on him that he is repeatedly told he needs to cure. but he hasnt really even changed in his own eyes

i personally prefer it to have been a pure fateful accident but the involvement of the overlord in the bite makes it arguably even more tragic. it becomes more than a childish mistake. garmadon was doomed from the moment he was born.

[vaguely-humanoid-form]

hiiii 4 lords headcanon beam teehee

ya I'm. sort of getting back into resident evil . lol

[kiwibirdlafayette]

I think Tom (and all his alts) strive for freedom…

OH ABSOLUTELY

I totally agree!! I think just like- the nature of Tom and his alts (who ofc meta wise were all written after him) is that they’re all dependent people of some kind, usually as the result of their circumstance of existence

Whether that be like in Tom's case because Dianite (or Mianite in Godswap, albiet different dynamic) is the one to grant him reanimated life, making him sort of indebted to him- or Cassell who isn't necessarily bound to his god moreso that he's bound to his creators (Flash and Ianite). Mot also sort of has that tether element to him because Dianite technically also saved his life from the creeper spore infection iirc but I think it makes the principle of freedom a little different to him esp. because it turned into like a business partners to unrequited crush to sorta lovers kinda thing depending on your post canon

All of this translates to me into their kind of devotion as champions, and again how that's like different from Ianitee flavored devotion (based on the guidance of Ianite and trusting in her judgement to lead them the right way so she can keep them safe), or Mianitee flavored devotion (Like knights to a king, similar to Ianitees follow orders for order, kind of follow his principles rather than specific instructions from him). Dianite being Dianite and the elements of chaos being how it is, Dianitee devotion is like being an extension of him, not via principles or guidance but by intent like being mercenaries in service of him while still being tethered in fear of punishment if its not done right. And maybe yknow they don't mind the implications that come with that title (Mot's case, for example) I think that's where that desire for freedom comes for- a want to have an existence that isn't tethered to their god

side note this could not apply as much to Dianite and Cass in Aitheaca because Dianite takes the Ianite role in terms of swapped god positions (and Cass runs off Dianite's guidance in the same way as Jordan would to Ianite) as Flash and Ianite are more similar to Tom and S1 Dia but bear with me xD

So kind of like extrapolating from that- their more specific desires for freedom are all sort of tied to Tom's need for spiritual freedom- I want to like refer to the whole thing of the Thauminomicon-y traits Marsh had mentioned before, and how Tom has 'fabrico', which stands for craft/repair. It connects in the sense of yeah he's a zombie he's stiched back together but. ok hear me out. Who would have stitched him back together? It was implied in an episode of Isles that c!Tom doesn't remember the Minecraft Project- (because they're memories he can't return to, just big empty void in his head), or when he was alive/ill from zombification, but he hadn't died yet. The person that arrives on Mianite with Tucker is that Tom, he is all that chaotic goofy Tom is, but at the same time he's partially someone else's creation, sewn together in intricate ways to be the bringer of chaos for the god he serves- but beyond that? His humanity. At his core, he's human, not someone who'll just take orders blindly and him striving for his freedom from that tether is refusing to deny the things that makes him alive. And I think the other alts like ya said follow suit, in Mot maintaining his humanity regardless of his ailment through choosing to care for Alyssa rather than being just a ruthless chaotic killing machine when Rux!Dia dies or in Aitheaca the way I want to write Cassell as someone who was born as a weapon for Ianite but loves collecting vintage human things and views his innermost self through music. The visual I kind of go to is the idea of Tom literally crafting and repairing the parts of himself that make him feel trapped by breaking them apart, burning it, adding new things when he takes the hands of friends and yeah!! And I think this sort of aspect could also tie into him becoming Mecha Dianite as well in finding freedom by choosing the person he is, and owning it

[boyfeminism]

told my birth mom i loved her for the first time in like a decade and felt weird and she sent back a thumbs up and now i feel extra weird

[screampied]

‘ THIS AIN’T FICTION, BABY! (it is kinda..) ★

☆ sum. jjk men finding out you write jaw dropping smut. boo you whore. can you even do half the things you write about? well . .

warnings. fem! reader, feat. gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, breaking the forth wall kekw, smut writer reader, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, squırting, manhandling, cuńnilingus, whiny men, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstim, spıt, impact play, breaking the bed, bréeding, size kinks.

GOJO ☆

“oooooh,” a husky low voice coos right next to your ear. hot breath ghosts against the tiny hairs that stand tall near the back of your neck. you bit your lip whilst you’re in the midst of being stuffed full of cock. just plain evil . . satoru’s got you cockwarming him while a fat thumb of his skims down your phone. “let’s see. gojo smut, gojo satoru x reader, hey that’s me, heh,” and he pauses, a snowy brow raising up in daze once he sees your user displayed in bold near the very top of the search bar. “cockwarming gojo, how fitting, angel.”

“toru, fuck,” you whine, making a cute attempt at trying to snatch your phone away. weakly pawing at his wrist, he holds it up even higher. you gasp, feeling his swollen tip swivel its way deeper inside your cunt. “don’t read it,” you fall back into his chest, moaning once he starts to purposely bounce his thigh. embarrassment had you hot, you could practically feel your heartbeat accelerating by the minute. “ ‘s embarrassing.”

satoru squints, resuming to scroll down the glowing screen before a free hand of his trails toward your pussy. he hums, “aw, pretty girl’s got a hobby i didn’t even know of, hm. here, you say ‘he’s got you right on his lap, suppressing a moan with your teeth dug into the bottom of your lip as you’re taking him fully. .’ such nasty literature,” and the edges of your nails pierce into his pants leg. the half on long black slacks that satoru wore were merely all ruffled and ragged thanks to your pretty fingernails tugging at it with all its might. as he continues to read, you’re whining, desperate to move, desperate for at least some kind of friction. as you’re squirming on his lap, satoru’s eye then twitches. “ ‘gojo satoru also would whine in bed?’ this has to be a typo. .”

and of course, his ego gets bruised.

the pout on satoru’s face was adorable. as you’re trying to sturdy your hips, he buries his face into your chest. “mmph,” he’s shoved right between the softness of your tits, his personal happy place.

although—he had to admit, he was flattered that you wrote such lewd compositions about him. you moan as you’re grinding against him, feeling his achy cock slam into you deep within each wet bounce. satoru makes a mess as he’s buried between your plush mounds, remnants of stringy saliva dribbling down the valley of your chest. pretty, his white lashes flutter as you’re quickening your hip movements and he gasps. “oh, f- fuck, angel. ‘s no fair when you ride me like thaaat.”

and you can’t help but giggle—despite your cock drunken state, he’s still got that little glower of a pout on his lips as you’re rutting into him.

satoru’s clenched abs flex more the second you run a finger down the sharp outline of his pecs, watching him immediately fold at your touch. “but you always whine, ‘toru,” you argue in a shivering voice, your cunt tightly squeezing around his length. his wide girth makes your mouth water, such thickness was just insane. you bury your unstable knees into the center of his thighs before his broad big arms wrap around you.

he’s holding you—almost squishing you.

but just like you wrote, satoru whines the second he ends up cumming early. with the way you ride him and the crazed speed of your hips, he never ever lasted long.

it was cute,

he was always confident until he’s buried deep inside your pussy, whining and sobbing pathetic cacophonies of your name at how good you feel clamping around him. it’s merry lukewarm, as he snaps, a puddle of thick syrupy cum shoots into you deep and he’s an entire frantic mess. pants of airy breath slip out of his pink lips as he’s giving you a fill, biting into your neck to hide his slutty whimpers. “god, ‘m gonna die,” he sniffles, squeezing pressure against your bare ass. you hold onto him tight as he’s pouring such slippery wads of seed into you at once—velvety hot amounts spit inside your pussy and you’re matching heavy gasps for air right with him, entirely in sync. “fuck, fuck baby, mommy.”

“what?”

“s- shut up,” he back tracks, and he sees the smug expression growing on your face. satoru lightly smacks a hand over his face before groaning, his cock all milked and flaccid. “i said baby.”

NANAMI ☆

tender mahongy eyes stare deep into your eyes as your fingers happily intertwine with his. tangled and curled, he’s got a soft grip as his body hovers completely over yours.

with ruffled blond strands running down the front of his forehead, nanami brings a kiss toward your cheek as he’s not just fucking you, but making love to you in missionary. “sweetheart, you left your laptop open you know,” and you moan once you feel his plump tip circle its way inside of your gummy inviting walls. already, you’re coating his entire dick with your slimy slick to the hilt. your eyes widen at his words before the left side of your twitching lip is met with another gentle kiss. “i didn’t mean to be nosy, but i saw a little ‘headcanon’ about me, is that what you call it?”

you glance into his eyes with abashed intent as a burning wave of heat sprays over your face. fuck, the pulse of your thumping heart only grew louder as your first response was utter silence.

“i—” you mutter out, and he chuckles at your lack of words, digging his head into your neck. nanami’s scent was strong, it goes through each of your nostrils and you felt yourself throbbing from his touch alone.

his strokes were tender and precise. he’s swaying back and forth as his bare body continues to rut straight into you. pent up muscles of his that were merely perfectly sculptured—identical to the physique of a greek god, you couldn’t help but stare. you just couldn’t help but ogle at how he’s so pretty, how fat tears of sweat race down both sides of his bulky arms. no one could blame you for writing about nanami, although—the things you wrote about him, they were pretty risqué to say the least. with a growing pout, your arms throw over his shoulders as he’s presenting your cunt blissful deep thrusts. “okay, i write about you sometimes, ‘ken. ‘m sorry.”

“sorry for what exactly? being talented, silly girl?” he whispers in a raspy tone.

nanami cups your chin so you could look right at him, naturally leaning into his touch. he focuses on the way your eyes soften and he’s plummeting girthy inches into you raw. your toes curl, running down his back and tickling the scratch marks that paint against his flushed skin. “don’t be sorry,” he adds, pressing a wet kiss near the crook of your neck. “i’m flattered. although, dirty talk isn’t exactly my forte. you know this, my love,” and you moan, feeling the edges of his teeth playfully nibble at your exposed flesh. as pounds of skin resume to smack against each other loudly, nanami slowly lifts up your leg, tossing it over your shoulder. “my favorite part had to be when you said i pulled on your hair ‘n called you a ‘messy whore’ .”

“y- you weren’t supposed to see that,” you nervously grin . . trying to avoid how you were so close to finishing. just a few more thrusts and that was it, you’d be finished, done for. you’ve felt embarrassed before—but never to this extent. he was teasing you, nanami kento was teasing you. and pathetically enough, your pussy twitched as he recited your exact filthy written words. the bed continues to creak and groan as jolting bodies move and move together, amongst each other, and on top of each other.

with kind eyes, nanami watches as you bring both of your hands up to your face, hoping to shield yourself from any more embarrassment.

“oh, honey,” he coos in a melodically low tone. his cock reached so deep that strangled moans flew out from your lips left and right. his tempo was always just right. he never wanted to lose control, but after reading your work, he knew you’d probably like that. crimson damp lips press under your chin before he grunts, preparing himself to be milked dry.

“hngh, don’t hide that pretty face from me,” he huffs, in a soft alluring voice. everything felt abnormally tender, nanami’s softly swerving his body against yours in irregular addictive arcs in such impassioned ardent. the more you stare into your eyes—the more your blown pupils dilate.

once he cup both sides of your face, you lean into his touch. his base was thick, swollen and full. you craved him more than anything, and it’s as if your words were actually coming to life.

“there she is, that’s my girl,” he grits in a raspy voice, prying your hands away from your face. his touch was forevermore gentle. with a soft smile, nanami presses his twitching ruby lips onto yours as you both prepare to cum in euphoric torrent. bedaubing a plump thumb over your bottom quivering lip, he slows his thrusts down a few beats—hearing you vocal pussy’s squelches before a wrinkle of a smile curls against his lips. “now, now. make a mess on your husband’s cock jus how you write them in your little stories, my love.”

GETO ☆

“oh, boo. looks like someone’s innocent all of a sudden when she’s not writing ‘bout dick, hm? wonder why that is,” geto hums, propped right up between your trembly legs. he’s staring at you with a sly smirk that refuses to wipe off his lips. two of his hands spread your thighs apart more before kissing near your slobbering exposed pussy.

with a cunning grin, he gives your drooling folds a few friendly taps as if it was a little mic test. “finish that paragraph. c’mon, wanna make sure ‘m doin’ it right.”

a salty taste of shame fills and salivates inside of your mouth as you watch him with heart shaped pupils. he’s got the most hungry gaze, a bit of spit already dribbling from the thin corners of his lips.

“um, okay,” you moan, picking up your phone again, leisurely dragging a thumb down the neatly typed paragraphs. “it says, ‘you whine, taking s-suguru’s thick fingers happily into your slippery cunt. long digits of his rummage their way inside before curling all around. once suguru spits on your p- pussy, he pats it and calls it a good girl.’ ”

“like this?” geto snickers—copying your exact words, using the flat palm of his hand to rub against your bare clit. you whimper, entirely sensitive as his thick digits toy with your soddened folds. your thighs continue to jostle and shake and he found it so adorable at how you just couldn’t stay still. so cute, he’s got darkened irises focused on you and only you the entire time. these seconds felt like hours, and as he gathers a nice amount of saliva, he spits right on your cunt. just like you wrote it . . you gasp at the sloppy cold saliva cascading down your pussy. the cobwebby strands that pour from his lips had such a pretty glimmer to it. the warm breath of geto that fans against your entrance makes you twitch in elated pleasure.

he’s so sloppy, unapologetically. just like your drabble said—he then pats your cunt with an open palm before leaning right up close, pulling a thumb down your pulsating uvula before licking it passionately. “good fuckin’ girl.”

you whine, your knees practically buckling and he’s just eating your expressions up. “y- yes— like that, fuck,” you move a few long black strands away from his face. geto dips two fingers inside and he stretches you out so easily with his digits. your lips form into a cute ‘o’ shape as you mewl out a desperate cry for more. as he’s watching you succumb into such bliss, he’s got such a pretty face. it makes his dick twitch in his sweats at the thought of you writing about how he goes down on you. the specifics, how sloppy he is, even how he spanks your cunt only to then shamelessly lick the slick mess right up with his tongue.

the thought that probably hundreds of your horny little readers read about this, about him, about his tongue . .

geto’s tongue was ruthless.

he lays it flat against your cunt before fluttering his long black lashes closed. he huskily groans, not even caring that you weren’t reading anymore. as his brows arch into a contorting furrow, he slides in two fat fingers. you whimper at the sudden big yet deliciously enthralling stretch, yanking roughly on his hair. “s . . sugu,” he pulls his slick covered fingers out, licking them clean whilst staring you right in the eyes. you tremor within his hold, feeling his palms tighten its grasp on both of your thighs. you couldn’t lie, this felt a lot better than fiction. so much better . .

he’s making out with your pussy, swirling his tongue around and spelling out all of the letters of his name. creating such a mess, your slick then starts to stream down his chin to which he happily licks it up. groaning, geto then slurps at your drenched hole before giving it yet another kiss. his chin had such luminescent shine to it. you cup his face with shaky hands as he’s eating you out through another orgasm and he jibes.

“mhm, your writing could use a bit more dirty talk though,” he critiques, swiping a thumb against his lips before he spanks your cunt for the umpteenth time.

with your legs sporadically quivering, he playfully bites on your clit, watching you squeal as you’re riding orgasm out on his tongue. “oh, and make sure you add in your little fics that i bite pretty clits too.”

CHOSO ☆

“bottom? w- what’s a bottom?”

choso quirks a brow in cute confusion, slouching back as you’re still getting over your most recent orgasm.

both pounds of sweltering skin melt into each other, sticking together like glue as your hips grow unsteady. choso was reading one of your published works and he can’t help but grow curious. the way you wrote about him, how you portrayed him as whiny and submissive, it does something to him—he personally always thought he was dominant. cute. .

“oh, don’t worry about that, baby,” you timidly utter, trying to conceal an incoming moan once his cock buries its way deep in yet again. he’s nice and snug everyone and it drives him crazy. choso’s got a pout—but it quickly turns into a lewd expression once your sopping pussy swallows him right up again. two jittery hands creep their way onto your rickety hips and he moans once he feels himself already bottoming out. “f- fuck, cho.”

his eyebrows were still all furrowed and he’s got a cute scrunched up expression. “ ‘m not a bottom,” choso grumps, leaning in to sneak a kiss near the corner of your mouth. despite the raspiness lingering underneath his tone—you could hear the incoming whine desperately trying to escape. choso’s black ponytails had cute ribbons in them—by you, and he’s biting his lip at the feeling of your hips starting to grind. “i- i can be dominant too.”

“prove it,” you whisper, a bratty impish glint forming in your eyes. choso scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you but it doesn’t last at all because he’s already pussy drunk to the max.

those two words. . those two words was all it took for him to manhandle you like a rag doll, politely and respectfully tossing you into the springy soft mattress.

it bounces from the abrupt weight crashing down and you gasp once choso backs up his words, and oh, he’s fucking you stupid. you let off a gargled three second moan once choso spanks your ass, using one hand to repeatedly drag you back into his chiseled hips. sharp thrusts plow into you with such speed that you’re left with a dumbfounded expression. your eyes were rolling back and your tongue was lolled out as choso was fucking you in doggy.

as much as you write about him, he doesn’t like doggy, mainly because he can’t see your pretty face. it kills him—but he can’t deny that the view of you like this was so pretty, so enticing. your buckling knees lock as you’re cupping a hand over your mouth, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

choso’s cock was so weighty and thick that it’s got a lazy curve, a mean curve that makes itself known in every part of your insides. he’s no stranger to your body, he knows the exact layout. such stamina—you didn’t expect him to be so feral, it’s as if he was an entire different person. “fuck, fuuuck,” he throws his head back, giving your ass more and more hard spanks. the recoil was his favorite. it was just the way your pretty shaped ass would bounce back onto him. he’s in love with love, in love with your pussy, in love with you. “ngh, gotta show you ‘m not a bottom, baby.”

“c- choso,” you whimper, and his fat base swings against your ass, almost shocking you from the electric friction. you’re drooling—he’s got you stupid as your swollen chaste clit bumps up against his pelvis every single time. the bed hollers out a plethora of cries as he’s jerking more and more into you. your cunt’s drooling dewy slick all down the undersides of your thighs. you even make an attempt at trying to touch yourself. with slickness though, choso snatches your wrist away.

“no baby. ‘s my pussy,” he grumbles, pinning an arm behind your back. you’re babbling—squatting forward as he’s feeding your needy pussy with such inches. choso hisses at the brief twinges of pleasure all due to your sloppy grip. you’re brutal, wetting up his base with your dewy slick. he can’t help but stare and gawk at the way your ass presses up against him. choso’s bottom lip quivers at how good it feels and how good you feel. no matter how much of a front he puts up, he’s gonna whine. “f- fuck. teasin’ me with your hips, baby. so mean.”

yet as he’s dragging you back and forth, watching as your chest heaving and your thighs try to clamp inward—you abruptly cum, gushing all over choso’s cock. he huffs at how sudden it was, and he knew you didn’t expect it in the slightest. so pretty, your final orgasmic cries sounded like a sweet candied harmony and he could feel your quavering body breaking down with his shaft still shoved deeply inside. your mess soaks up the entirety of the dark sheet, now being drenched in a damp grey color. “fuck, fuck,” you whimper, shaking as your head slumps into the pillow. choso whines at your own pleasure, and he doesn’t even care if he doesn’t finish. he pulls out, crawling toward you before burying his face into the nook of your neck. “c- choso, oh my g- god.”

as your flimsy arms hold him close, accepting his embrace, he goes back to his clingy needy self again, speaking in a shivering soft voice. “h- have you ever wrote about squirting yet?”

with droopy eye lids, you were longing for a kiss. as if he read your mind, he leans in—planting a sultry balmy kiss right onto your lips. “no,” you mumble, moving a few strands out of his face.

choso licks near your neck, one of his hands sprawling your sticky legs apart and he brushes a finger against your slick wet cunt. “w- well, you can always write about that,” and you gasp once he lifts your leg up, easily tossing it over his shoulder. with pleading eyes, choso sighs. “but, can we do that again, baby? i- i think i like when you squirt on me.”

SUKUNA ☆

“breeding kink, interesting,” the demon gruffs, hearing you whine after he swipes his phone from your hand, wondering what in the actual hell could be so important.

he’s reading a strange explicit story of himself that’s apparently called a ‘one shot,’ according to you. how stupid, he thinks. sukuna’s irked vermillion-shot eyes skim through the many paragraphs of filth before he spanks your ass, making you keep your most recent arch.

“ah, seems like y’r even more nasty than i thought,” and your breath hitches once he circles a palm over your stinging rear cheek— an attempt at soothing the sudden pang. hearing your cute muffled whimpers, he mocks your noises. “aw, if you wanted me to ‘breed’ you princess, you could have just asked.”

“ ‘kuna, ‘s embarrassing,” you moan, gasping once he smears his leaky tip against your entrance. he was right - you could’ve ask, you could have asked him to do all the little dirty things you wrote about, you could have . .

swallowing the invisible lump that resides at the roof of your mouth, you imagine yourself being stuffed full of sukuna’s cum. so much to where he ends up getting you all swollen—you’d be nothing but sitting pretty with a cute plump tummy, wads and wads of glossy runny cum just slickly dribbling down the sides of your ass and thighs.

“write like a slut ‘n you even act like one too,” he hums, using a thumb to slide down your pussy. sukuna’s staring openly at how you’re already so soaked, so drenched and he looks like he’s ready to feast. your puffy folds glisten with your own arousal and it’s so so cute. “wonder if you write while havin’ a pussy this sloppy too,” and he smacks it raw, feeling your entire body jolt from the sudden impact. you fall into the soft padded mattress and he darkly chuckles at your weakly spot-on reaction time, aligning himself. “poor baby. spendin’ all this time writing when you could’ve been getting . . ah, what’s the word? oh, right. bred, heh.”

and sukuna does more than just breed you—he quite literally overflows your cunt. he’s a demon, and demons cum a lot.

you’re an entire puddled mess that was filled to the brim.

the sheets were all damp and stained and you’re glistening with droplets of perspiration—radiating from his heat entirely. “s- sukuna, fuck,” you weep out his name, hearing the sloppy spurts of cum still dribbling out of you. such a mess, your mouth waters as you realize just how full you are. you always wrote about this sort of thing but never knew that your silly fiction could turn into mere reality. both of your thighs stick together as you’re left trembling with an arch in your back. he’s cackling at your state, watching as globs of creamy ropes leak out of your slobbering pussy.

“how cute, jus might mess around ‘n get you pregnant, yeah,” the demon jibes, a sharp fang poking underneath his bottom lip. you’re haplessly quivering. your panties that were lazily dragged to the side were all torn and ripped, coated in a ivory white color also. as you’re trying to collect breaths—you then let off a moan once he presses himself deep against you.

your womb was completely flooded, you’re drowning with his stringy cum and with his hot burly body right up against you, you feel him right there. you couldn’t miss it, he’s so long and thick that he’s practically tickling your goopy insides. sukuna wraps a hand around your throat whilst another hand sneaks toward your pussy. “bet you’d like that, fuckin’ freak,” and he’s smearing circles against your folds. you twitch at his cursed hand, his cock still tucked inside of you before he laughs against your ear. “you want a baby, huh. wanna carry my demon babies, don’t ya princess?”

you nod and he lets off a snicker of amusement. “keh. bet you do,” and his voice lowly pitches. you moan, feeling him pull out of your dripping cunt, plugging his spilling cum back in with a single thumb. “fuck, better write about this too, princess. let all your pathetic readers know how much of a sloppy pussy their favorite author has,” and you gasp once he quickly flips you over. sukuna suddenly dives head first between your legs, lapping his flick tongue against your folds. “mmph, now watch me clean you up,” and he spits on your pussy only to then look at it with disgust. “messy girl.”

TOJI ☆

“nuh uh, get the fuck back here babygirl,” he grabs you by the hip, and you let off a moan once his fingers trail up your skirt. a wavering crinkle prods near the edge of his left twitching eye as he’s processing such raunchy words about him. a dry chortle leaves from toji’s mouth as he makes you lie on your tummy, multitasking by slapping his swollen cockhead on your dribbling folds. “ya always told me you were a writer but i didn’t think you write ‘bout this,” he purrs, and your toes curl once he’s aligning himself against your slick heat. but fuck was your cunt just was drooling for him. both folds were weeping for him to just go in already, and yet here he was - teasing you. “really? what’s with the whole ‘toji daddy kink’ thing? i look like the kinda guy that’s into that?”

you feel embarrassment creep up your shoulder. he was reading that part, the part where reader calls him ‘daddy.’

sheepishly trying to crawl away from his grasp, you swallow ignominy. “ ‘s not real, i just made it up toji,” you try to explain through gritted teeth. but as he’s reeling you back into his keen structed hips, you lewdly mewl. he’s just so fucking big, happily massaging your walls freely with just a few inches. your mouth widens as you hear him lowly snickering in the background. a snickering laugh that never failed to make your pussy throb.

toji grabs at the fat of your ass, stubby fingertips poking through your skin. with a mean spank, it’s a non-verbal sign for you to stay still. “y’er a fuckin’ slut with your writing, baby. i bet ya haven’t even tried these kinks,” he teases, and you moan again once his cock delves deeper into your walls. with such ease, you back raises up into an even sluttier arch. “hm, lets see if y’er as nasty as you write,” and you hear him grunt briefly, one of his hands gently wrapping around your neck. toji gets right up close to your ear, flicking his tongue against your soft earlobe. “go on, say it.”

“s- say what?” you squeak, but you knew exactly what he wanted. never in a million years would you have thought toji would discover your little erotic hobby. by now, he’s balls deep—you whine, feeling yet another sharp swat smack against your left ass cheek at the lack of response. you’re chewing on the inside of your cheek in guilt before you hear toji smack his lips in sheer vex.

“c’mon, don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs in a hoarse tone, salacious timbre pouring on his entire voice. toji feels your pussy dripping around him and he hums, giving you just one single tease of a thrust. your body jerks forward and you whimper sweetly. he’s so close up to you, hard washboard abs of his that were proudly flexing grinds against your back. he’s pressing his muscular weight onto you, careful not to crush you but just enough to. inching his lips back toward your ear, he kisses near your neck. “call me daddy. jus like how you write me, little girl.”

as you’re feeling a few throbbing pangs between your thighs, you shiver underneath him. burying your head in shame between your arms, you whine. “ngh, daddy,” and a weird feeling pools around the insides of your stomach. butterflies and a mixture of flutters swarm inside of you and you moan. once those words slip past your lips so prettily, toji raspily groans. he pistons his hips before not even seconds later, he’s fucking you stupid. babbles of babbles leave from you, and you’re acting just like the main character you write for. ironic, you’re clinging onto the silky cream-colored sheets, bawling up the thinly-made fabric with your clammy fists before squealing. “fuck, daddy ‘m not gonna last.”

“should hear how stupid you fuckin’ sound, baby,” he growls, merciless hips snapping into you at full throttle. you were gonna break, you just knew it. toji’s thrusts were so powerful that you’re left squeaking out pathetic whimpers—his cock stretching you out as if you were elastic. “fuck,” he runs a hand through his messy dark tresses. his shaggy strands were unkempt, overgrown a bit and running down his eyes. he’s got to cock his head up a bit just to see your pretty face and your even prettier ass. “c’monnn, do that cute arch you describe in y’r slutty fics.”

“t- tojiii,” you whimper, the weight of the bed dipping after each continuous stroke. he’s thorough. toji’s maddened fat tip has your legs becoming more and more unstable before he smacks your ass. the powerful hit against your rear rings through each of your ears—and you pout, gnawing on your lip, knowing he wants you to correct yourself. “ngh, i- i mean daddy. ‘m gonna cum, fuck.”

but right when you’re about to finish, you’re interrupted by the ear-splitting sound of wood. you’re moaning—feeling your pussy continue to squeeze around his throbbing length that’s coated with veins all the way down to the tan swollen base. it’s loud, you gasp once the weight of the springy bed suddenly drops and you both collapse—toji falling on top of you. he doesn’t even say anything, and he pulls you up to continue fucking you but you let off a whiny whimper. “you just broke my b-bed.”

“yeah, so.”

“so..? you’re gonna have to buy me a new one.”

“right. about that . .”

[gatorbites-imagines]

I can vividly imagine sinister mark on his knees with a collar around his neck on a leash with a muzzle. I love this image so much and I wanna have this for all the marks. Why have one mutt when you can have way way more

I couldn't turn this into actual headcanons or anything, so just have me rambling for a bit about it, because I've had this thought for... a while. 

i will write smut about this if interested, i love this shit.

Me and my 16 evil boyfriends who do what I tell them to do... what Mark would even be the first to have joined the (harem...) group??? I dont even know what to call them all to tell them apart. Please let me know if theres like commonly accepted names, or should I just make my own names for them all. Cuz this is gonna get confusing. 

Like, if you hooked sinister mark first, I could see the others following suit, little by little. Like, theyd see him crawling on all fours, growling and drooling with his viltrum-level muzzle on. Cuz hes the type that would also need one of those bits, like you would find on a horse. Or maybe more like a gag of something. Something he can chew on and grind his teeth into, as he gets too excited and wants to start biting. 

If the other Marks make fun of his collar, sinister Mark beats the shit outta them. He doesn't kill them, only because he knows you'll praise him for holding back. They are all suckers for praise, I think that's just part of being Mark Grayson. They all act like tough shit, but theyll roll over and show their belly for praise, affection and something in their mouths.  

I think it's also part of being Mark Grayson that they're whiners and whimperers, when you get them that far. Some of them will act all tough and scary, but others will just start whining and begging almost immediately. And when the others see that this behavior gets rewards, well.  

It would be even more funny if you were just... a normal guy. Like, they just pulled up in your dimension and somehow you got sinister Mark in a collar, and one thing leads to another and suddenly your small apartment is filled with guys who could destroy earth if they wanted too. 

You have the world, and probably multiverse, in the palm of your hand. Only way to keep everyone safe, is to keep these guys collared, drooling and hard. How you get viltrum grade kink stuff, I have no idea, but you get it.  

I don't even wanna think about how you'll explain any of this to people. It's not like they can really work, since they technically don't exist in your universe, so you all live on your income. And no, you won't let them steal for you. Bad pets go in the crate and think about what they've done and why it was wrong. 

You dont want to explain to your universes GDA how you keep such dangerous guys under control. But hey, your planets gained new protectors, because your... boyfriends? Pets? Want to keep you safe and happy, and will bend over backwards for pets and kisses. Its extra awkward if your planet already has a Mark, and if that Mark is like the normal one.  

Imagine sitting in the GDA, because theyd wanna keep an eye on you and make an ally out of you at this point. One or two of your Marks are kneeling by your feet, heads in your lap, a third is draped over your back, nuzzling your neck. Your universes normal Mark has to pass through, maybe with the guardians, and you guys just... kinda look at each other. 

You swear you feel your Marks start growling and tensing at the sight of your universes normal Mark, like a pack of feral cats or dogs trying to chase off an outsider.  

Your universes Rex would have an absolute field day with this, and would pick on Mark with this fact. Seeing your Marks draped all over you also means people start underestimating them, until the GDA tries to hurt you or threaten you. Then everyone gets a reality check. 

I think most of the Marks keeps the steamy part of your relationship at home, but some of them would not give a shit that you guys are in public. If they notice you are turned on by something, they are ready to drop to their knees right then and there, or, bend over whatever there is to be bent over. 

Honestly, I'd feel bad for anyone with all 16 of them hanging off them, espcially if you are a normal person. There is no way you would be able to keep up with 16 viltrumites. But hey, maybe you can just watch as they please themselves, have them put on a show. Heck, you could probably have them help each other, if you are into that kinda thing, who am I to judge. 

I like to think they all wear some kind of collar. Some would be something as small as a necklace or choker, and others wear a straight up dog collar with spikes on it. One of those “DO NOT APPROACH” collars. Fuck it, put a shock collar on Mohawk Mark, guy needs it.  

Keep their favorite candy on you as small treats. Even funnier if you got one of those bags on your belt that you use for dog treats. Your universes normal Mark would lose his appetite for his favorite candy after seeing you use them to straight up train these guys to behave.  

Who knows, maybe you'll get a 17th Mark if your universes Mark is just a little crooked or different from normal Mark. The problem is your 16 Marks and if they would accept him, like a pack of wolves accepting an outsider. I love these guys. 

[dragonkeeper19600]

The Batter Is One of My Favorite Video Game Protagonists Ever

News of the upcoming remake recently got me back into OFF, and as I played through the game for the first time in years, I was struck anew by just how great a character the Batter is.

Not just for his role in the subversive meta-narrative, which was fairly new in video games at the time, but also for really being just a really nuanced and fascinating character.

Now, even knowing the twist and the way the game ends, it might be tempting to write off the Batter as a one-note character, like, "Oh, he's just an uncaring thug who wants to kill everyone," but no, I think that's a very shallow read. The Batter has a lot of depth if you take the time to really look.

So, because I've been chomping at the bit to gush about my favorite character, let's go down a list of some of the character traits that make the Batter great.

1. Doesn't Give a Fuck...or Does He?

Years ago, there was a post on Tumblr (that I won't even try to find now) that said of the Batter, "Man, this guy just does not give a fuck," featuring a bunch of screenshots of him saying things like this:

Don't get me wrong, his terseness and lack of reaction to some of the game's most outrageous or even harrowing moments is hilarious in a kind of black comedy way, but to imply that the Batter doesn't care about anything is inaccurate.

For one thing, he drops the blunt speaking style and becomes very eloquent and even passionate when confronting those he sees as "impure."

That the game acknowledges him to be a figure controlled by a player by no means necessitates that he's merely an automaton, passionlessly following orders. He's devoted himself to his mission with the zeal of a fanatic. He fervently believes that he is right and just and that anyone who opposes him must be cut down for the greater good.

Confronting what he perceives to be evil is the most surefire way to loosen his tongue and get him fired up, which brings me to my next point:

2. Has a Strong Moral Center...Too Strong

The Batter's main goal may be to wipe out every living thing in this world, including all of the Elsens, but that doesn't mean he's indifferent to the Elsens' suffering. Far from it. He's actually deeply offended by their mistreatment.

In Zone 1, the Batter decides that Dedan is hostile and must be destroyed before Dedan has even had the chance to interact with him, meaning that Dedan being hostile to the Elsen is what made the Batter decide he has to die.

He also conveys a sense of urgency during the timed mission in Zone 2, as though urged by the sight of the Elsens in immediate danger. I don't remember his exact dialogue if you run out of time during this part, but I recall him saying something like, "We're too late..." which (if I'm remembering the line correctly) would show that he's motivated not just by a bloodlust for the Specters but by the need to save the Elsens' lives.

However, what makes this morality disturbing instead of redeeming is its lack of two things: empathy and nuance. While the Batter is able to understand that people being killed or mistreated or abused is bad, he isn't capable of empathizing with the victims. The knowledge that the people he's fighting so hard to save in Zone 2 are going to end up being killed anyway once he purifies Japhet doesn't give him pause for an instant. The inherent dissonance in that is beyond his ability to comprehend. He's so self-righteous that he sees each of his actions as good, even if they result in the same outcome for a particular individual as something he's trying to prevent. In simpler terms: When a Specter kills someone, it's bad and evil. When the Batter kills someone (even if it's the same damn person), it is right and just.

The lack of nuance in the Batter's moral compass manifests as a very simple worldview: Everything that is evil must be destroyed. This philosophy is key to the game's satire of morality in video games, where evil deeds and creatures are swiftly and violently punished by the main character, usually with death. By sticking to this worldview, the Batter is ignoring the nuance of the setting he's actually in. The Elsens whose mistreatment he's so outraged by don't want him to kill their leaders, and they don't want to be killed by the Batter anymore than they want to be killed by the Specters. But the Batter is so set in his worldview that he isn't willing to adjust. If the Zones operate in a way that he deems to be evil, then they too are inherently evil and must be destroyed. This chain of logic is taken to its natural conclusion when the Batter annihilates the whole world because, yeah, that's really the only way to eliminate evil, isn't it?

It may be tempting at this point to say that the Batter doesn't care about anything except his mission and punishing evildoers, but even that is oversimplifying the character.

3. Surprisingly Human

Mortis Ghost has very clearly stated that the Batter is not human, and I believe him. (Why wouldn't I? It's his game.) That being said, some of the ways the Batter reacts to the things he encounters strike me as surprisingly human.

It isn't true that the Batter doesn't care about anything outside of the mission. There is quite a lot that he doesn't care about, but he's also capable of forming opinions that have nothing to do with the mission. If you look out one of the windows in Zone 0, the Batter will say, "I think it's a nice day out," which is a line that really surprised me when I first found out about it because it's the only time I can think of where the Batter makes a positive comment about something.

There's also the way he insists on sitting in the front seat of the rollercoaster and always puts his arms in the air while on the incline. He's not obeying you when he does these things; he refuses to get on the coaster if you try to make him sit anywhere but the front, and there's no button prompt or anything to make him put his arms in the air; he just does it.

I also love his reaction to the "Panic in Ballville!" comic in the Room.

Not only is he decidedly unimpressed with this comic, he also refuses to read it again if you try to make him. Whether he realizes the implications of his own resemblance to the villain in the comic is unclear, but his refusal to even look at it again means that he might. Regardless, moments like these show that the Batter is more than just a single-minded puppet. He does have opinions and won't hesitate to put his foot down if you try to make him do something he doesn't want to do.

He's even capable of being taken aback, as Enoch's dialogue about the Specters being the souls of the dead appears to give him pause.

That brief moment is the only one in the game where the Batter shows any sign of hesitancy or uncertainty in what he's doing. He was very convinced up until this point that the Guardians were controlling the Specters (despite Dedan accusing him of the same thing in Zone 1). Not only that, but he's never taken the time to think about what the Specters actually are. I kind of interpret this as a rare introspective moment from the Batter, where he begins to realize there might be aspects of this situation and what he's doing that he hasn't considered.

However, he quickly recovers from this moment of doubt and hardens his resolve to eliminate Enoch because of his...

4. Unshakeable Faith...But in What?

A lot of the language the Batter uses to describe himself and his mission contains a lot of religious overtones, with adjectives like "holy," "sacred," "righteous," etc. His perception of his himself matches with portrayals in the Old Testament of God as a punisher of evil and a smiter of the wicked.

I don't think I need to list all the references to Christianity throughout the entire game because that would take way, way too long. Needless to say, everyone has noticed the religious motif in this game, and when an Elsen in Zone 1 straight up asks the Batter if he's religious, he doesn't deny it.

However, I don't think it would be quite right to call the Batter a Christian. While he uses a lot of language that's reminiscent of Christianity, his dialogue doesn't contain any references to specifically Christian practices or beliefs, such as Jesus, the Bible, the saints, angels, baptism, the Resurrection, etc., etc. The Batter may have devoted himself to his mission with a religious zeal, but is the mission alone all he worships? The kind of faith he exhibits is usually that associated with a deity.

Identifying the "who" at the center of the Batter's worship is not easy. When the same Elsen from Zone 1 asks who sent him, the Batter straight up says, "Nobody." I've seen it suggested that the deity the Batter "worships" may actually be the player, but I don't think that's right either, since he's pretty quick to turn on you, without any sign of hesitation or angst, if you side with the Judge in the final boss fight.

But I have another theory. If we're still using Christianity as a reference, then the Batter would presumably be worshipping some sort of creator deity. Who is the Batter's creator?

When the Batter meets the Queen, she tells him to go back home. His response?

He outright refers to Hugo as his father. As you may recall, "Father," is one of the aspects of the Trinity (Father, Son, Holy Ghost.) The Father is God the Creator, God the Progenitor, God the Origin of the World. This, I believe, is how the Batter sees Hugo.

Remember how the Queen attacks the Batter by saying, "You don't even know his first name"? Could that be because the Batter only knows Hugo as "Father" and not any other name?

This revelation becomes even more enlightening (and disturbing) when you take these lines into consideration:

What does the Batter see as the Queen's only important role? To care for Hugo. Why does the Batter feel compelled to complete his mission? Because of Hugo. Why did he come all this way? To see Hugo. Where is his home? With Hugo. Everything is for Hugo.

That the main goal of his mission is to kill Hugo fits the mold in a twisted way. After all, Christianity rather famously centers around a God who died. That death is believed to have saved the world.

Regardless of how exactly he came to that conclusion, the Batter truly believes that killing Hugo is what's best. Even his infanticide (patricide?) is driven by his twisted devotion to Hugo, his creator and his God.

All of this is why the Batter is my favorite character in this game and none of the others (as great and memorable as they are) can even come close. He's not just a brute in a baseball costume. Each time you peel back a layer of his motivations, you only see more layers underneath. He's an incredibly rewarding character to analyze, and I never get tired of talking about him. He's a fanatic, a devoted apostle, a self-righteous murderer.

And he always sits up front on the rollercoaster.

[wrystia]

unmistakable glances spencer agnew x fem!reader (fluff) wc: 800

   staring at the screen in front of you, your finger pushes ever so slightly at the left joystick. sitting beside spencer, your legs are propped up into your chair, an old sweatshirt acting as a protective shield around you. your character slowly walks into a parking garage, the dim lights partially obscuring the large alien figure. eyes wide, you look back at spencer, your lips pursed. 

  he peers over at you, giving you a short smile. clenching your jaw, you look back to the screen. moving the joystick once more, you slowly make your way through the parking garage. the alien slowly creeps above barriers and around cars, occasionally kicking a can that’s been left laying around. “this is the worst,” your whisper comes out low, trying to keep yourself from looking away again.

  “you’ve got this,” he whispers back, something your personal mic packs could pick up but the remote couldn’t.

  his voice echoes in your head, sounding somewhat soothing as you make your way around a car. and just as you’re starting to feel your heartbeat slow, you run into a crushed can. the sound of metal getting kicked carries throughout the parking garage. the alien makes a noise, one that indicates its awareness of you, immediately sending you to toss the controller into spencer’s hands, “shit!”

  it lands in his hands, the controller processing your speaking and alerting the alien right to where you are. spencer looks over at you with his mouth agape, watching the alien kill your character in his peripheral vision. “why’d you do that?!” he laughs a little, making sure you know he isn’t being serious with his attitude towards you.

  “that’s like asking a duck why it quacks.”

  “i feel like i go a little bit insane every time you make a weird analogy. could’ve said ‘that’s why a pig flies’ and i’d probably take it at face value,” spencer sets the remote down, bringing his hands up to bring up his cap and adjust his hair.

  looking back at him, you try to hide the smile that crosses your lips. he’s always had this effect on you, the way he does anything with a simple nature that makes your palms clammy. even just the way he casually rests his arm behind your chair, the heat of his body temperature leeching onto you. “okay, first off, i’d never say that. second, you need to start because we’re running out of time and i want out of this building…”

  “i feel so emotionally wounded, you don’t want to hang out with me and this amazing crew anymore?”

  “you know what i meant, and if you don’t start going soon i am going to… report you to hr,” you watch as he grabs a hold of the system’s controller, rolling his eyes as you make up some sort of threat to convince him to get moving. 

  starting the level back up, he keeps his eyes on the game in front of him, locking in. however, your gaze can’t seem to escape from his concentrated face. you know he can feel you looking to him and not to the computer screen. you also know that you want to play it off like simple fear of the game, clinging onto your cohost with only the purest of intentions. but, when his gaze shifts back to look at you, all you want to do is bring him closer.

  “watch me nail this,” he gives you this smug look, forcing you to move your eyes to the screen. 

  he moves your character in the same path that you had taken her, watching the alien slowly creep around the parking garage. staring at the screen, you don’t seem to notice as spencer hides back a laugh, walking right into nearly the same can that you walked into. “oh shit!” he yells, exasperated. 

  tossing the remote to you, you look back at him. “you fucker!” you listen as the alien quickly kills your character, once again attune to the sound of cans moving and the shouting of two very loud individuals. 

  “you are so evil, i need everyone to hear me now when i say that this is all just to torture me,” you look around the room, only to have your eyes land back onto spencer. 

  he stares back into yours, carrying a cheeky little smile that he seems to love to have around you. for a second, you almost forget that you’re filming. especially when he reaches down to grab the controller back from your hand. spencer’s fingers brush yours in a quick movement, static bridging from your hand to his. “fine, fine, we will finish this level out clean! just know that we have a lot more to go through. just a warning.”

  “oh goodness.”

[jeongin-lvr]

cw. handjob, cum eating, subby jake, praise kink & fluffy relationship shit.

cuddling with your boyfriend Jake, his hand around your waist as he lays behind you, head nuzzled into your neck. you’re both so comfortable, watching whatever movie the two of you have playing on the TV. neither of you have spoken for quite some time and it’s comfortable that way. your hands are placed over Jake’s where they lay on your stomach, hugging him back as your legs intertwined with each others. the couch feels 100 times more comfortable than usual with Jake by your side. the moment is soft and gooey like a warm brownie… until you felt something hard poking at your lower back.

you immediately knew what it was but for some reason you looked anyway. you turned slightly, alerting Jake out of his soft and calm state, peeking at whatever you were looking at. Jake hadn’t even noticed he’d gotten hard, immediately flushing with embarrassment, redder than a cherry. his head spun and he attempted to do damage control by sitting up slightly and shuffling back, though there wasn’t much space to go. you were still ultimately in his arms, and he was still hard as a rock with a red nose and cheeks.

“fuck, I’m sorry, I did not mean—“ Jake is met with your fleeting touches over his body, swiping over his red hoodie before sneaking under the fabric. your cold hands met his warm skin, sending a shiver down his spine. his eyes shot to yours, seeing the pure lust bubbling behind your irises. you cracked a prideful smile at Jake, fluttering your lashes as you bit your lower lip. “don’t worry, Jakey, it’s only natural.”

Jake’s breath uneven and chest rising and falling with staggering movements, he nodded, allowing the feel of your hands to travel over his taut tummy. you continued, your hands slowly trailing down the center of his abs, down to his bulge and palming him through his thin sweats. you could feel the heat radiating off of him, the unholy desire emitting from him. “need my help?” you asked with a slight smirk, making Jake gulp before he nodded, too far gone to even attempt to fix the issue on its own.

at his command, your hands tucked under the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling the bare skin of his cock, leaking and hard shamelessly. his eyes widened as a steady and small moan left his lips, licking them before another ripped through his throat. your hands wrapped tightly around his base, slowly flicking your wrist and feeling him twitch in your palm. Jake’s pretty, thick lips pulled apart in a small O, eyes fluttering with enjoyment at how your hand felt. the lewd wet sound of your fist fucking his cock was making him dizzy. his hand came to your throat, resting there softly, his lips chasing yours to suppress the endless litany of moans that began building up in the back of his throat.

“you’re so good— a-ah, keep going…” Jake praised with a shaky voice, bordering on a whine as his lips mumbled against yours. the way you were turned had you laying on your side facing him, practically pressed as close as possible, leg thrown over his side while your hands got to work on his poor, cruelly hard cock. Jake almost laughed, wondering how things went from 0 to 100 so quickly— he has no self control, that’s how. he can’t keep his dick down to save his life. he didn’t even realize he was hard until you did, and by that point he was far beyond saving.

with the movie long forgotten and Jake’s cock twitching in your hand you broke the kiss between you both. you smiled at him, biting your bottom lip with a small giggle.

“my Jakey, are you gonna cum? can my pretty boy cum? are you close?” Jake nodded at your words, almost sputtering as he huffed with need. every inch of him reacting to your movements, your words, your touch. Jake slowly started to twitch, his hips fucking upward into your fist, the rustling fabric of his sweats pathetically rusting against the couch cushions. you were evil with your pace, tugging his dick with fervor with no sign of slowing down. “it’s okay to cum, baby, let it out,” you encouraged, breathing against his mouth as he tried to kiss you again, whimpering softly, “I want you to be satisfied and cum for me. 1… 2….”

Jake felt his tummy tighten, balls fuller than necessary, before his vision turned white. your lips curled up as his cock twitched violently; his load spilling into your hot palm with a wet, desperate spurt. Jake’s hips stuttered upward into your palm, reacting harshly to the way your hand rubbed over his leaky slit. he moaned, sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

“3…” You laughed slightly, pecking his lips with a soft smooch. your eyes sparkly and proud of yourself for making your boyfriend cum like that. Jake lay almost motionless apart from his breathing, eyes glossed and distant. you raised your hands from his pants and grinned, licking up the mess with a soft moan, catching his attention again. Jake watched bewildered and also intrigued. almost proud of himself at how you lapped up his nasty juices.

“yummy,” you teased, wrapping your arm around his neck, toying with the short trimmings of his dark black hair, “love ya, Jakey.”

Jake hummed, a little worn out but satisfied, “Love you, hon…” more pecks on your lips were placed, grateful and loving.

[barnesafterglow]

the art of missing someone

summary: bucky barnes was a lot, but he would always be yours

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: brief college then modern au, little bit of angst, don't ask if this is based off personal experience i will cry, smut (MINORS DNI!) [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)], confessions, idk man i'm just here

a/n: first fic of 2025!! this was a bitch and i still lowkey hate it but it is what it is

main masterlist - i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary for updates!

The thing about Bucky Barnes was, well, he’s kind of an asshole.

In a funny way, really, but an asshole through and through and, for some reason, that did it for you.

It did it for you so much, in fact, that you had been going in circles with him for years now. You met him originally at a party in college; you didn’t know anyone except for your roommate, Natasha, and she introduced you. You immediately gravitated towards him, with his quick wit and sharp opinions, you felt like you could talk to him about anything. He kept close to you the entire night, getting more touchy as the evening dragged on, until the tipping point came.

You were finishing up a game of beer pong where you and Bucky absolutely dominated, and as you sank the last cup, he picked you up, swinging you around before setting you back on your feet. The thing is, he didn’t really let you go. You stood there, in the middle of a crowded party, with his arms around you and it was like everyone else disappeared.

Searching your eyes for permission, he bent his head down and his lips met yours and that was really the beginning of it all. It was unlike any kiss you had ever had, sweet but a little desperate and you craved more.

It became a thing, after that. You would see Bucky at a party, make nice for a few hours, then end up in a closet or empty bedroom making out until someone came to find you.

But more than that, Bucky became your friend. He was who you talked to in your darkest moments, who you sent stupid videos to, everything, and you liked it like that.

That is, until everything got turned on its head.

It happened right after graduation. You had just moved into your own apartment and were waiting for Bucky to come over for movie night. You hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, the communication very much lacking, but you figured it was just a busy time for both of you and once you got settled, everything would be fine.

That is, until you got a phone call as you closed the microwave door and started the popcorn. Immediately seeing Bucky’s name, you wiped your hands and answered.

“Hey, you almost here?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a sigh.

“I- I don’t know how to say this,” Bucky started, and you found yourself growing nervous. There was nothing you and Bucky couldn’t talk about. Well, almost nothing. “Me and Dot, well, we’ve been talking and…”

His voice trailed off, the line going quiet again. But you were going to make him say it.

“We’re getting back together. She really wants to make it work this time.”

And there it was. Dot was Bucky’s on again-off again for the last several years, stretching back to before you even knew him, and it was a sore spot in your friendship. They had mostly been “off” in the time you’d known him, save for a few memorable occasions where she wormed her way back into his life for a couple weeks just to break his heart all over again. It was safe to say she was not your favorite person, and you certainly weren’t hers.

“Bucky…” you started, but he cut you off.

“No, I know what you’re thinking.” He actually probably had no clue how evil the thoughts you had were, but you weren’t going to enlighten him. “But it’s serious this time, we’ve been talking since graduation and we’re both ready to give this a real shot, without all the bullshit.”

He sounded so sincere, and he was your best friend, so you took a deep breath and sighed, accepting the fact that if you wanted Bucky in your life, this was just something you would have to deal with.

You could hear his relieved laugh on the other end, and you felt your stomach give an odd lurch, like someone had pulled a carpet out from under you.

“I knew you would understand, thank you.”

“Of course, Buck. Now, what about movie night?”

Another beat of silence, then, just like you knew it would happen:

“I can’t, Dot is coming over.”

You wanted to argue, to scream, to make him feel bad about choosing her over you, but hadn’t he already? So instead, you mumbled a quiet agreement and hung up, not wanting to talk to him any longer. Already, it felt like the beginning of the end.

And you weren’t sure you were ready for that.

-

It didn’t even happen slowly, is the worst part. You didn’t see Bucky that night, or any night for the weeks that followed. It wasn’t until you saw him at the coffee shop by your apartment that you were able to talk to him.

You sat down at his table, no longer interested in placid excuses and apologies, and asked him point blank what was going on.

“I’m just trying to keep Dot happy.”

“By staying away from me?” You were frustrated, sure, but under that really you were just hurt. “Listen, you know I don’t like her, but I would never ask you to choose between us. That’s not fair and if she cared about you like she said she does, then she wouldn’t either.”

“It’s not like that!” His voice was raising, just a little, so you knew he was just being defensive. He must have heard it too because he cleared his throat, voicing going back to normal. “I just don’t want to cause any problems.”

You nodded, grabbing your coffee as you stood up, and headed for the door. If he was willing to let your friendship go, then you weren’t going to fight him on it. So you left, face heated with embarrassment and tears threatening to spill over.

As you passed the threshold to the coffee shop back onto the sidewalk, you pulled your headphones on, ignoring the bustle of the city and Bucky still watching you leave through the window.

-

Adjusting to a life without Bucky was weird, you had to admit, but you did it anyway. The first few weeks were the hardest, when he was the first person you wanted to text during any occasion, but eventually that muscle memory faded until you were reaching out to the people who actually valued you in their life. 

Almost a year passed, and you moved on in all the ways you could. You heard Bucky moved back across the river to Brooklyn and that was about all you knew; your friends avoided the mention of even his name if they could help it, even though you knew at the very least Steve and Natasha still talked to him.

You just hoped he was happy, no matter what he was doing.

It was a cold January night when the notification came through. Wanda had recently convinced you to get on a dating app, even though you were perfectly content being single, thank you, but you had to admit the attention didn’t hurt.

You weren’t expecting much when your phone chimed and you unlocked it without even looking at the notification. Which is how you came face to face with Bucky’s Hinge profile, and a message attached to a picture of you that you knew he had taken saying: hey, you look familiar.

Was that really how he was going to make amends, on a dating app?

You supposed it was kind of funny, in that asshole way of his, and you stared at the message for another moment before responding.

oh, i know you?

if you want to

And, well, that was the thing. You did want to. No matter what he did, no matter how much he hurt you, he was still your best friend. Your Bucky.

Instead of answering, you pulled up a contact you hadn’t opened in months and pressed call. It rang one time before a familiar voice flooded the other end.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Hey, Buck.”

It was a healthy conversation, if you were being honest. Bucky apologized, told you he and Dot were done for good this time and, against your better judgment, you accepted it. You talked for hours after that, catching up on life and reminiscing on old memories, until you checked the time.

“Shit, it’s late,” you said as you put the phone back to your ear. “Almost midnight.”

And then, the words you dreaded but wanted desperately.

“Come over.”

“To Brooklyn? Buck I can’t take the subway this late.”

“I’ll pay for your Uber. Just come over.” You could hear the words he wanted to say, the ones on the tip of his tongue that he just wouldn’t force out.

“Well, I did miss you.” You tried to press it, to make him say it, but he only hummed on the other end.

“So is that a yes?”

You looked down at yourself, cozied up in sweatpants and a hoodie that you were almost entirely sure was Bucky’s, and sighed.

“Yes.”

“Perfect, your Uber will be there in 8 minutes.”

You didn’t have time to wonder how he got your new address - probably one of your mutual friends, maybe he had been keeping more tabs on you than you had on him - and shot up from the couch. With no time to change, you headed to the bathroom and brushed your teeth before taming your hair in the best way you could. As you were stuffing some clothes in an overnight bag - just in case, you told yourself - your phone chimed with a text from Bucky that your Uber had arrived. 

In a whirlwind, you rushed to the car where the driver seemed very put off at having to wait a whole 90 seconds for you to walk four flights of stairs, and slid in.

The whole ride there you were nervous. The thing with Bucky was, despite many drunken hookups, you’d never actually had sex. You weren’t really sure why, just that it had never happened and you had been grateful for it in the long run. You weren’t even sure if it would happen tonight, if he still wanted you like that. Even with all your talking and catching up, you hadn’t been brave enough to ask what this meant.

At nearly 1am, your Uber pulled up outside a beautiful Brooklyn brownstone and, there on the front porch, stood Bucky.

He wrapped you in his arms as he stood in front of you, and it all felt so heartbreakingly familiar you gave in immediately, all the tension leaking from your body at the feeling Bucky gave you. 

“Hey,” he said softly into your hair. “Come on in.”

Bucky’s house was so far from his old college apartment it was frightening, yet it couldn’t have felt more like Bucky. More like home. 

You took in your surroundings, shelves of books and vintage furniture and warm tones, it was almost like stepping back into your own place, the aesthetics were so similar. That was the funny feeling in your chest, you were sure.

Eventually, you ended up on Bucky’s couch with some superhero movie on, not really watching it but still grateful for its background noise to fill the room with each lull in the conversation. Not that there were many, one thing that came easy with Bucky had always been talking - although neither of you did much of that when it really mattered; you figured you could put that out of your mind for now. 

Over the course of the movie, you and Bucky shifted closer together until your thighs were pressed flush and you could feel the air from each of his exaggerated hand movements. It wasn’t until a wayward wave nearly grazed your nose that you truly realized how close you had become, and the sight of Bucky’s eyes shifting subtly to your lips has your self restraint at an all time low.

Fuck it, you thought. You had wanted this for so long, but you also knew you could live without Bucky if everything went tits up. It was a sad thought, that, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go. With every bit of courage you had, you let your hand float up to cup Bucky’s cheek, eyes searching for any sort of hesitation. When you found none, you leaned forward to close the admittedly small gap between your lips.

It was electric. Never had a kiss from someone else ever lit a fire inside you the way one from Bucky did. It started off slow, searching, a chance to reacquaint yourselves. But the second Bucky’s hand reached to tangle in your hair, everything shifted. 

Suddenly you were pulled in Bucky’s lap, legs straddling his, lips desperate for a taste of what you’d missed for so long. It was everything you hadn’t let yourself wish for, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to be missing it again anytime soon.

It wasn’t until your shirts were on the floor and Bucky was making quick work of your clasped bra that you thought maybe it would be smart to just slow down. Just for a second, just to get your bearings. 

An honest to god whine fell from his lips as you pulled back, stopping his hands from undressing you any further. 

“Buck,” you whispered, forehead pressed to his, hands cupping his face as if he was something precious. Though you supposed he was, to you at least. “What’s going on?”

“I just…” His voice trailed off, obviously unsure of himself even though this at least was familiar territory. What was to come next, however, was not. “I can’t go another day without making you mine.”

Your core tightened at the words, vivid memories of what Bucky’s hands and mouth could do; fantasies of what else he could do invaded as well as suddenly talking didn’t seem like a priority anymore. 

“Take me to bed.” And that was all he needed. 

Bucky scooped you up bridal style, carrying you across the threshold of his bedroom and laying you gently on his bed. Your eyes darted around, wanting more of snippets of the life Bucky had built here, but you were quickly distracted by his body covering yours, the weight of him pressed between your thighs was comforting and intoxicating. 

Bucky’s touch proved even more distracting as he shed you of your bra, mouth immediately latching to one nipple, the little nips and sucks enough to drive you crazy on their own, while his hands pinched at the other. He continued his assault until you were dizzy with want, then he trailed down your body with his mouth, not leaving an inch of skin undiscovered until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants.

He pulled them down just an inch, then his eyes shot up to meet yours at the discovery. 

“No underwear?” His voice was deep, husky, almost fucked out if you really thought about it. It was a thrill that your hold on him was so tight that just the thought of you without underwear was enough to leave him reeling just a little bit. 

You batted your eyes innocently. “Someone didn’t give me much warning about my Uber, I apologize.”

The giggle in your voice suggested the insincerity of your apology, but it didn’t deter Bucky as he pulled your pants from your body, mouth and hands still exploring. 

His fingers traced unknown patterns along your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart until you were fully exposed to him. You felt nervous all of a sudden, like you had never been in this position before. You had, of course, but never sober, and never with Bucky looking at you so attentively - like he was going to eat you alive. 

It was intense, having Bucky’s eyes bore into you as he lowered his mouth to your core, starting with gentle kitten licks until your hips were bucking, searching for more friction. One of his hands pinned your hips to the bed, while the other slipped through your folds, spreading spit and slick, before he slipped one inside of you. Then two, then three, until you were begging for release.

All it took was a soft whisper of come on, baby and a crook of Bucky’s fingers and you were falling apart, the intensity of your orgasm whipping through you, and as you floated back down to your senses, Bucky was still going. 

It was feverish, like he couldn’t get enough of your pleasure, and each twitch and moan encouraged him until your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him away from your spent body.

He let out a protest, but you silenced it by pressing your lips to his, moaning at the taste of yourself as his tongue pressed into your mouth. You were lost in the sensation, letting yourself be manhandled until you were once again in Bucky’s lap. Sometime while you had been transported to another planet, his pants had been shed and you were oh so close to getting everything you ever wanted. 

With your mouth still pressed to his, you rolled your hips, feeling the weight of him sliding along you. You kept at it, teasing and grinding until he thrust his hips and there it was; one slight adjustment and the feeling of Bucky stretching you out to was more overwhelming than you could have imagined.

Your hips stilled, as did Bucky’s, letting you adjust to him until you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, your way of telling him that you were okay, that he could move.

His thrusts started slowly, letting you feel every inch of him until you were begging for more. When his hands stopped roaming to grip your hips tightly, you knew you were done for.

Bucky held you in place, his hips snapping up to fuck into you and all you could do was hold on for the ride. 

You were so overwhelmed you almost missed Bucky’s words, mixed in with his moans, but once you caught them, they were as clear as day:

I missed you.

Over and over, Bucky was repeating the words, interspersed with groans and heavy panting, but your heart restricted regardless 

He missed you. Bucky missed you.

With your thoughts such a jumbled mess, reveling in the fact that this was really happening, your orgasm snuck up on you. One second you were floating on the high of Bucky and the next you were crashing, falling, and he was right there to catch you as you came down.

His hips slowed, stuttering as he spilled into you with one final thrust.

For a moment, the world around you didn’t exist. All there was was this moment, with Bucky’s arms around you and your head buried in his shoulder. Everything came back at once: your harsh breaths, the noise of the TV far away in the living room, and Bucky’s hushed whispers as he held you.

“I missed you so much.” You didn’t respond for a moment, but you lifted your head to meet Bucky’s eyes. In them lay the sincerity of his words, vulnerable now that they weren’t being said in the heat of the moment.

“I missed you too, Buck.”

[simpjaes]

personally im a munch sunghoon TRUTHER so the concept of incubus sunghoon that loooves eating pussy makes me insane... like he doesnt even need to fuck or anything he gets his energy from muff diving. just a thought

warning: traditional incubus, non-con/dub-con, somnophilia, breeding kink, pregnancy.

trad!incubus sunghoon, where you wake up one night drenched in more than just sweat.

Sticky and messy, your body throbbing as if you've been touched awake. As if...you're still being touched. It's not painful, but it's uncanny how searing the feeling between your legs is. You can feel the tensing of something against you, the flicking of your swollen clit by nothing more than a barely visible shadow until--Oh, is that...a man?

You squint hard, your legs trying to close but being met with something blocking the movement. You rub your eyes as you try to make out the image of who, or what has woken you up this way.

A stranger, one you've never seen in your life but still you somehow fall into that darkened and piercing gaze as he...licks between your legs with his eyes flicking upwards toward you.

Sunghoon, a notorious incubus who visits women at night when he deems fit, name never mentioned or even known to anyone of the earthly plane but- always a welcome entity with or without realizing it's reality and not so much a dream.

In his experience, many incubus demons tend to be quite unpleasant to look at, which is why he does this. The form of a man, one so beautiful no woman would fight or panic. They'd give in, over and over again, until he sucks the soul straight out of them along with that sweet slick and he's allowed to embed an evil little offspring.

Sunghoon grew bored of the forceful acts after the first four hundred centuries. He likes it when a woman of earth yearns for him. To the point he's even given up the immediate fucks for hours of foreplay. His body reacts the same as it does when he's fucking a woman senseless as it does when he's got his mouth on the sweetest spot.

You're one of these women to him. This is the first time he's ever been rough enough to wake you of your slumber. Typically, his visits end in a nice little too-wet dream for his objects of desire. Sometimes, he wakes them on purpose. Other times, he wakes them entirely without intention.

He just...couldn't help it when it came to you. Time and time again he's paid visits here, slurping up every ounce of your sleepy desire until he's forced to leave upon the rising sun. Always satisfied with the act of releasing his demonic cum without so much as using his cock. Just his mouth, it's all he fucking needs.

And Oh, to feed his sons and daughters to you, to create little witchlings and devil boys from the very flesh of you for doing this to him.

He'd stare for hours at your sleeping form, drooling and tasting every tiny bit of your skin before devouring you from the center. Sliding his tongue so deep, so hot inside of you. When you sleep, you respond well.

Tonight though, as you stir, you respond even better. To the point of searing your fingertips trying to grab hold of his hair as if you want more.

"More?" Sunghoon speaks for the first time in centuries to a so-called victim, his voice deep, rumbled, and echoing off of the night against your window.

You feel the voice hit you right in the clit, followed by a sharp nibble against it before a...forked tongue fondles its way back inside of you.

You whimper and nod, thrusting up against the solid-formed shadow of a handsome devil.

More is what you want.

And more is what you'll get.

More than you'd have ever expected. More than you can handle. More, more, fucking more.

Until you're waking up in the morning, well-rested yet trembling from your intense "dream."

Only, it isn't long until your body swells. Plump, searing feelings in your belly.

[g1rld1ary]

lifeguard!james potter x fem!reader 8

prev

wc: 2168

cw: drowning and resuscitation, near death experience, inaccurate medical descriptions, happy ending ofc

me: i have a delicious lifeguard!james request in my inbox which will for sure be the next part but i really wanted to get this part out first sorry anon!!!!! ik this is a little less horny than most of the other parts but i kinda loved the idea of the softness and love of their relationship developing after being braindead horny?? but as always pls feel free to send lifeguard!james reqs bc he's my man fr im feral for him

TAG: @stanzie

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

the pool was packed. you didn’t know what was different from any of the other hot, sweaty days you’d encountered, but suddenly there was hardly a sun bed free or an inch of space in the pool.

it was disappointing, sure, but nothing your friends couldn’t handle, snatching a piece of grass a bit further from the pool to lay your towels down. it did mean you didn’t have the benefit of an umbrella to hide under, and the direct heat was driving you all mad.

“do you think we’ll even fit?” you asked, not hopeful when you could barely even see the water.

“we come here every other day, they have to make room for us,” lily joked, tucking her magazine back in her beach bag.

“you could always ask james for help,” mary teased with a singsong emphasis on his name. you rolled your eyes, attending to your sun cream to hide the girlish grin that was fighting its way out.

“yeah, bat your eyes at him and he’d clear the whole facility,” marlene laughed, jumping up and holding a hand out to help you stand, “now let’s go fight the old ladies for a spot.”

“hiya,” you called up to james on the elevated lifeguard chair. he brightened as soon as he noticed you, pushing his dark sunglasses up to his forehead so he could make direct eye contact.

“hey, good looking! not in your usual chair?”

“got beaten out by hilda. embarrassing, really. got eyes on any spots for us, baywatch?” james took his duty seriously, scanning the pool for any spots of blue for you to occupy.

“how about down there by the wine mums? good bit of room and i’ll be able to keep an eye on you.” he winked, gesturing down to the group of middle-aged women.

“okay perv,” you replied light-heartedly, but you couldn’t help your smile when he used your nickname for them. the wine mums were a group of women your friends adored from afar. they weren’t drunk as the name suggested — no alcohol allowed inside the pool fences — but all year round they could be found about town, gossiping and laughing well into the night over glasses of red or white. you couldn’t go an encounter with them without at least one of your girls wistfully dreaming about you all becoming wine mums like them in thirty years. it made your heart glow that james had picked up on the nickname.

you slipped into the pool, sighing contentedly as the water immediately brought you relief. there was a group of children playing some sort of ball game, maybe a casual version of water polo, which habitually splashed you all, but you weren’t in the mood to care.

the chaos only became unpleasant after another group of schoolboys came barrelling in, joining in on whatever game had started. even the wine mums climbed out of the water, muttering complaints about their behaviour.

the pool was overrun with adolescent boys, jumping and thrashing and tossing a few balls around recklessly. james had blown his whistle several times, but he couldn’t exactly stop them from playing around.

the next several moments happened like you were watching from an outside perspective. the exact moment you opened your mouth to speak, the ball smacked into the back of your head with an aggressive thwap, dunking your face under the water, your lungs filling with water as you gasped and floundered. in the most evil twists of fate, the mob of teenage boys flocked over to you in hunt of the ball, pushing you down to the pool floor.

if you were in your right mind you might’ve acted differently, more rationally. but you weren’t in your right mind. you were under the water, being pummelled by at least six pairs of feet with water filling up in your lungs. you weren’t the dramatic type, but you were genuinely scared for your life, the possibility of resurfacing in time rapidly dwindling. your already blurry vision under the surface darkened and you tried to make peace with the fact that you weren’t getting another breath in.

the next thing you knew, your chest was heaving and something warm was resting over your mouth. your eyes shot open, body jerking even more dramatically. james potter, in all of his wet, hot glory, was giving you mouth to mouth as you lay helpless on the hot pool tiles. you’d clearly been out for a few minutes as someone had been able to lay a towel beneath you so your skin didn’t blister and burn on the scorching terracotta.

you hacked and coughed a few more times as james gave you a few inches of space, water spitting up and out of you, splashing pathetically on the floor. you noticed the alarming silence that had fallen over the facility, and looked up to face two dozen pairs of eyes fixated on you. it made you nervous in a way attention never had, fighting your body’s automatic reaction to expel water in order to keep some of your dignity.

“alright, everyone, show’s over. give us some space.” james’ usual boyish mischief was long gone, serious expression only intensifying as you locked eyes. “you go with lily to the medical room. i’ll see you there soon to make sure everything’s really fine, but i’ve gotta wait until someone comes to cover, the pool can’t be unsupervised.”

“i get it,” you sighed dramatically, leaning on lily as she helped you up, “duty calls.” james shot you a look that was clearly meant to be unimpressed, but you could see the hint of amusement in the twitch of his smile.

“i’ll see you soon.”

lily escorted you inside the tiny, outdated medical room, sitting you up on the examination table.

“that was hands down the most dramatic thing that’s ever happened to us,” she said, sitting in the seat usually saved for the parent.

“you’re telling me,” you managed a laugh, “what happened?”

“god, it all happened so fast we could barely keep up. you got separated under that group of dickheads and it was all so loud we couldn’t get them off of you so we had to call james for help. now, i’m only saying this because you’re okay and i know you’d be mad at missing it, but it was the hottest thing i’ve ever seen.” you interrupted her retelling with a snort, not not disagreeing with her. “he was full baywatch; olympic level dive, across the pool in seconds, carried you out of the water bridal style like some sort of superhero. i could’ve been watching a movie! did some legit looking cpr while absolutely ripping those boys a new one for being so irresponsible — think one of them cried.”

you laughed at lily’s dramatic recount, imagining it like you’d been conscious to witness.

“i’m so upset!” you jokingly whined, “nothing fun ever happens and the one time it does i’m unconscious! i didn’t even get to see him use all those stupid muscles.”

“you know you can just ask, right? you all tease me for my ego but never use it for good.” james rounded the corner, looking extremely satisfied with himself. you and lily exchanged mortified eye contact at being caught, but both dissolved into embarrassed giggles as james’ disarming nature charmed the room.

“do you want me to stay?” lily asked as james gathered his things to examine you.

“it’s okay,” you shrugged, “i trust the doctor.”

“good, i think marlene and mary are pretty shaken up, i should probably walk them home. call me tonight to prove you’re still alive.” you agreed easily, making lily promise to assure all your friends you were perfectly fine.

that left just you and james alone in the medical room, tension blossoming between you.

“are you okay? really okay?” he asked, beginning the checkup.

“yeah,” you answered, hesitating to think through your reply, “shaken up a bit i think. and my lungs hurt. but you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“good.” james smiled, listening to your heartbeat for abnormalities.

you sat in silence for a few minutes, observing as james did his thing, admiring the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was focused.

“thanks for saving me,” you broke the silence first.

“don’t thank me, it’s my job.”

“no, seriously. i could have died, james.” james looked up with a start, his eyes finding yours. he couldn’t remember if you’d ever called him by his real name and not some nickname to tease him. he liked the way it sounded coming out of your mouth.

“you know i never would have let you drown, who else would stare at my body all day?”

“shut up.” you swatted his bicep, secretly grateful for the tone shift. you wanted james to know you were sincerely grateful, but it was hard to sit in that vulnerability. you liked having the power in conversation, controlling it so you always had something witty to say. today had been one big knock down, leaving you to feel powerless and out of sorts, like nothing you did was right.

james had you taking deep breaths in and out, describing how they felt and if you could feel any water in your lungs or other disruptions in the process. his hand on your back was burning a print into your skin, his presence beside you a reminder of everything wonderful about him.

you suddenly groaned, throwing your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment. when james asked for an explanation, you almost couldn’t provide one.

“that is so not how i wanted our first kiss to go.” mouth to mouth? definitely one of the least sexy kisses of all time. blowing air into an unresponsive mouth was certainly not what you’d consider a successful make-out, and you were sure james agreed. to your surprise, james looked amused rather than disgusted or judgemental, his casual demeanour once again bringing you peace.

“nah, that wasn’t a kiss. a kiss is supposed to be fun. and consensual. that was just me saving your life.” you rolled your eyes to cover your smile. you both pretended you couldn’t see the other’s giddy grin at the implication that you did in fact plan on kissing james.

“so what’s the diagnosis, doc?” you changed the subject again, nervous sitting so close to him in a private room (especially when his bare chest was still out in his work uniform, glistening with sweat).

“you’re all good to go, but i’d go to a doctor if you feel weird. be cautious for a few days.” james held out his hand to help you off the bed.

“well if it’s really that bad, i could call on you, right? i’m sure the good doctor wouldn’t mind supervising my bed rest, hm?” your flirting was back with full force, paired with some batted eyelashes for good measure. you delighted in watching james understand the implications, blush rising to sit on his already sun-kissed cheeks.

“what about we start with me walking you home, hm? i don’t think your mother would be pleased with me supervising any activities happening in your bedroom.” you laughed at that, tipping your head back as james took the moment to take your beach tote and sling it on his own shoulder.

“that’s why i have a window, stupid.” you let yourself be led home by james, the two of you laughing and talking until you reached your front door.

you stood on the first step of your small porch, making you closer to level with james’ towering height. you could tell he was about to say something, no doubt flirt or make a dumb joke, but you beat him to it, wrapping your arms tightly around his midsection.

you’d clearly caught him off guard as james took a moment to react, but matched your energy, wrapping you tightly against him until you could practically feel each individual muscle in his body — not that that would be a bad thing.

“i’m really glad you’re okay,” he said softly as you finally pulled away, “you had me really scared there, lovely.” you only smiled in response, unable to produce the same openness that seemed to come so easily from james. you liked to have the last word, though.

“you really earned your title today, baywatch.” you kissed his cheek softly before disappearing into your house to giggle in a way usually entirely unlike you. you were scared this thing you had with james wasn’t just about his lifeguard’s body anymore.

[kindaasrikal]

Slapping the ninja with hobbies that aren’t just ninja-ing or the already clearly stated ones because they desperately need lives

Cole seriously likes arts and crafts. He’s got his own little area in his room thats just filled with arts and crafts supplies. Glue, glitter, fabric, ribbons, sticks, gems, you name it. He creates ribbon roses, makes his own birthday cards, creates cute little designs almost all the time and gives them to all of the ninja in random little areas.

Zane actually likes taking small random items and fixing them. Nothing big like how three certain somebodies (Cough nya jay and pixal cough) do but just little things everyone owns and can’t fix. Kai accidentally broke a massive candle in a har and he ran off to find Zane to fix it, a bracelet Nya owns broke so she immediately hands it off to Zane, Lloyd breaks a tea cup and presents it to Zane with a ‘please help me.’

Jay really likes any sort of skating. Roller skating, ice skating, skateboarding, you name it he knows it and much better than you do. He takes pride in knowing the most complicated of tricks and moves, and may or may not have used his ninja training to cheat a little but we all would do that let’s be real. He sometimes starts skateboarding in the monastery and Wu may or may not have snatched it from under his feet multiple times but Jay has no proof.

Kai, after having everyone constantly talk to him about how ‘fun’ it was, got hooked onto adventure books. he reads them all, he knows all the big authors, he knows every character and every piece of lore and if he's obsessed enough he WILL buy the entire series. A guilty pleasure he got hooked onto right after was fanfiction. He reads it all.

Nya, strangely enough, got hooked onto flowers. She loves making bouquets and giving them to anyone and everyone who wants them. She’s memorised every meaning each flower has been given, and soon enough she got interested in other plants too, especially ones under water. She takes care of them like her babies and if they die she will be found sobbing in a corner holding the pot or whatever it was in.

Lloyd tripped his way into making clothes. He learnt how to sow from Misako, who was used to altering clothes for Garmadon and Wu. Lloyd specifically likes making designs on shirts and hoodies and the such, usually working with Cole on that front. You could usually find him hunched over anywhere dimly lit with a needle, a shirt, a bunch of thread and a will to make something cool. He could use the machines, but he once accidentally shoved his finger right underneath and he’s held a grudge ever since.

Bonus:

Skylor loves to write, and write she does with that uncompleted 200k original story she’s afraid no one will like, and keeps procrastinating so much that she even writes fanfiction of stuff she hasn’t been into for years. The reader named ‘redhotshot204’ keeps leaving comments though, so she supposes she should keep updating.

Morro is unashamedly good at ballet. He first learnt it for his ninja business, but he became so good at it he couldn’t let it go. He’s graceful with every step he takes and never makes any mistakes every twirl and spin and whatever and he will kick people in the face. Hard. He honestly hates tutus so he will try strangling people with it if forced to wear one, but he absolutely loves ballet shoes. Spinning around in his tip toes became an instinctual habit after a bit.

Harumi likes making jewellery, and makes them as heavy and as sharp as possible. Shes capable of making earrings, necklaces, bracelets, anklets, whatever. It mainly started because she couldn’t find the type of jewellery she wanted during her SoG years, so she began making it by herself. She even glued the spikes of her gi on herself.

Echo got interested in cars, specifically toy cars, and making them functional as actual cars. Not the most normal of hobbies but knowing who he’s related to its to be expected. He once accidentally made an evil toy car and it kept hitting everyone’s heels and ankles the entire day. Harumi ‘accidentally’ pushed Cole onto it so it would break. They had to perform a funeral because Echo was going to actually arrest them for murder if they didn’t.

Pixal got into painting. Sometimes shes slapping paint onto a canvas and then calling it a day, other times shes making something that rivals the Mona Lisa. Landscapes are what she prefers the most, often drawing the scenes they all see when going on big missions, with bright colours to show the beauty they saw. They love hanging it all up around the monastery.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Peter Hale x Younger!Mate!Reader || Drabble

Plot: **I forget how mates work in the Teen Wolf universe but for the good of the fic, we're going to do this in an AU where your mate is not your choice- you just Feel It, when you meet them, and Know. And you also have a little sixth sense, where you can tell when the other is in danger.**

Peter Hale is your mate, there's no question about that, but from the moment that you both realised that fact- he has made it clear that you are too young and sorry sweetheart, I'm not that evil.

But some time later he turns up at your house. He has no intentions of being there long, but will it be harder for him to leave then he thought?? After all, now its just the two of you. Just you, and him. Fuck.

Warnings: Age difference (Reader is 21-24, Peter is 35-38).

Of all the people who could've been on the other side of the door today, Peter Hale was probably the one possibility you thought would be the least likely. As soon as you see him, you straighten up your back; stand with more confidence. Even though you're really, really confused. How does he even know where you live?? Peter has never been here. And you've never been close enough to tell him.

"Wh-... " You look around. Did one of the other bring him?? Lydia??? Weirdly, you don't see anyone else. Just your devastatingly attractive, occasionally evil, quippy estranged mate. When your eyes land on him again, you cant help but notice something off about him. He looks a little nervous. A little worried. "... Is everything okay??" Your voice is gentle; soothing. You don't know how comforting that is to him, against his will.

"Hi." He starts, causing you to screw up your nose when he doesn't answer your question. "I uhh... I got your address from Styles."

"And he just... gave it to you?" You ask, dubious. Styles hates that you and Peter are mates, and one of the few things that Style appreciates about Peter is the distance he's kept from you all this time.

Peter shakes his head. "Well, no, he took some convincing, but- " His eyes flicker from your face to the rest of you for the first time- period. First time ever. But still, there's not a bit of lecherousness in his glance, just more concern. Now your lips form into a concerned frown. Why is he so anxious?? Thats not Peter-like at all. Even you know that and you barely know each other! "Uh, when I told him I was worried about you, he coughed up."

You blink. "Worried??... Why would you be worried about m- " OH fuck. Guilt rushes through you immediately. You completely forgot that that he could... that mates could sense when the other was scared. You were told it could be felt almost just as clearly as if you yourself were in the danger, if your mate was. And you were pretty damn scared, earlier.

Fuck.

Immediately your body goes cold and your eyes go round. "- I'm so sorry!! It was- I- My friend and I went into the city earlier, and she left early so I took the train back on my own, and there was this creep that sat next to me an-- It wasn't serious. I'm so so sorry."

Peter nods, the worried fog in his eyes clearing as he let out a sound- a sigh? Relief? He remains rooted to the spot, though, a crease in his eyebrows that still conveyed some level of concern. "What kind of creep? Are you alright??"

"He was just- um- " How do you describe the levels of discomfort you were in with this guy, and still convince him that you're fine? You're not, right now. In fact you were still pent up when you finally got home, safe and sound. You only forgot all about it when Peter turned up at your door. "Persistent. I'm okay. Thank you Peter."

The crease in Peter's eyebrows increases, furrowing and knitting together into a grimace of disbelief. What you would almost call a sneer pulls across his pretty face. "Really?? That felt... pretty bad, sweetheart."

You immediately ignore the twitter your heart gives when he calls you sweetheart. "Really. I'm not hurt, he didn't follow me home. I'll be fine."

"Hm." Peter clearly doesn't believe you. You don't know what to tell him!

... fortunately, you don't have to. After a moment, he rolls his eyes and rolls his shoulders, shaking off the grimace and the sneer and looking once again his usual, unique brand of nonchalant. "Fine, don't tell me. But hey, maybe I should give you my phone number. That way you can let me know whenever something like that happens, so I don't have to freak out cuz my heart's about to tear out of my chest while I'm just folding laundry."

"Oh. Yeah, probably a good ide- "

"You got a pen?"

And there he goes, you think with an indignant huff. He's brushing you off and trying to get away fast, like just being near you was a chore.

Giving a nod, you leave the doorway and head into your house. "You can come in!" You call back, searching for a pen and a notepad.

It hurt that Peter was like this with you all the time, but usually it was a vague unfortunate longing feeling somewhere deep inside you. Because, in the end, you didn't really know Peter. Just because he meant to be your mate, didn't mean you knew him (Just meant that you could. That you wanted to.). So truly, was it a huge loss that he didn't want anything to do with you? You tried to tell yourself that it wasn't. And besides, you sort of respected him for not wanting to 'prey' on you. That was good... A part of him not everyone saw.

Right this moment though you felt sad, and annoyed. Because for a moment there, he was really your mate. He was worried for you, he wasn't just shocked and upset like he'd probably try to convince you if you pressed him on it, he was worried. You could see it clear as day. Because one thing you could gather about Peter, was that when he wasn't wearing that semi-permanent poker face he had on again now as he wandered through your house behind you, peering at pictures on walls and books on your shelves, his face was more like a window directly to his soul. He couldn't hide anything. Thats probably why he invented the blasé attitude he'd patented now.

"... didn't know you were a reader." He pipes up, a definite note of interest in his tone. Not Talking is not a possibility for him- even with you. "What's- "

You give him a taste of his own medicine. "Yep."

Finally you find a pen and paper, stuffed in your food cupboard with a grocery list half done on the first page. You flip to the second page and turn around, handing the pad and the fine liner pen over to Peter.

You watch him carefully write in his phone number down for you, and feel very oddly about him being in your home right now. Morally debased Peter Hale, looking way too gorgeous in jeans and a designer t-shirt- your supposed mate- in your kitchen. Absolutely nuts.

When he's done, you cant help but asking if he wants a cup of tea? You want him to stay. You want him to be comfortable with this- with you.

But you wont force him if he cant. Even if it genuinely breaks your heart a little every time that you think about what could be, here.

"No- no, I cant." He says quickly, immediately, and you nod. Yeah. Yeah, you expected that. Okay. "Well... good seeing you, Y/N. I'll, uh, see you around inevitably."

"Probably, I'm in the pack you keep trying to take over."

A little grin flickers across his face. A little fake-ashamed, a little proud. "Exactly."

You don't know if thats a joke or not. Probably a bit of both, with him. From what you knew of him, he could never ignore the allure of being alpha for very long, despite any amount of good deeds he does.

Complicated man, he is.

Peter turns his back and starts on his way back the way he came, and you go to walk him out, and you're just thinking about what you're going to do with the rest of your day- how you definitely need a comforting cup of tea after all the fear and all the oddness and all the sad- when suddenly Peter turns back around. You nearly run into him. "Oh!- Peter- "

Before you even realise what happened, he draws you and in against him and seals your lips with his and swallows down your surprise. There's a passion in this sudden, shocking kiss that you've never felt before and it almost brings you to your knees. You kiss him back, parting your lips and meeting his tongue with a clipped moan, but you have to wrap your arms around his neck just to stay on your feet.

Being this close to him finally, you find you don't mind the rough stubble against your face one bit, and his cologne is expensive but good, and his nose rubbing against yours feels perfect.

When he pulls back he releases a wolfish growl into the small space between you both, frustrated and annoyed. "Shit, I wish I had a good excuse for that, but- " He shakes his head before pressing his forehead against yours. "Fuck me, I shouldn't have done that... "

"I'm a grown up, Peter- "

"See, Y/N, the fact that you have to say that, is not reassuring to me."

"Y/N??" You blink, eyes growing wide.

"Thats your name." He groans, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, but you've never said it before."

"Yes I hav- " He seems to decide arguing about that isn't worth the time, and shakes his head again. Probably because he definitely hasn't!- "Whatever. Point is, today I have reached a new low. And guess who's fault that is, sweetheart?"

Your mouth falls open with shock, despite the butterflies that fly around inside you at him calling you sweetheart again. "Not mine!- You could control yourself, its not that hard."

His intense blue eyes have a grin in them, now, making you insides feel warm and soft. Still, he sighs. "... any chance you can keep this a secret?"

Hmm... "... Only if you kiss me again." There's a lot to discuss, a lot to figure out; you know that. But the bottom line, the only thing you care about right now, is that you're a grown fucking adult- and you're still feeling the high from Peter's touch. You need it again. You think you're addicted.

Already!

A dark smirk slips across his handsome face. "Hm. You got a couch in this place sweetheart?"

[httpvomitello]

Helloooo, can I request something for the 2018 turtles (ROTTMNT)? The reader arrives with the guys to show them the softshell turtle they got as a gift at a school science fair. Since they're not very sure how to take care of it, they go to the guys for help. And the turtle... it looks just like the one from The Amazing World of Gumball. I just think it would be fun to see the turtles (especially Donnie) interacting with the evil turtle haha 😭

OMG NOT THAT FREAKING TURTLE 😭😭 When I learned that Donnie is a softshell turtle, my mind immediately went to that turtle from Gumball. Like... Seriously??? That turtle is the reincarnation of evil, that's for sure. Anyways ~ i hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Leo is so pumped when you show up with a turtle

He’s already imagining the epic sibling turtle bonding he’ll all have, and he’s definitely scheming ways to turn your new buddy into his own personal sidekick

But as he leans in to get a better look, he catches the turtle giving him a super intense, villainous stare

"Uh, why is he looking at me like that?" Leo laughs nervously, tapping the glass of its little tank

The turtle does not break eye contact

In fact, it somehow looks like it’s plotting something

After a long, intense staring contest (which Leo loses), Leo's more hyped than ever

“Oh, we’re keeping him. This little guy’s got edge.”

He decides to call it something like "Sidekick Jr", and he tries to train it to glare on command, thinking it’ll be perfect to bring it to battle with him

Obviously you don't let that happen.

Raph’s eyebrows shoot up the second he sees the turtle

“Whoa. That turtle is… cute.”

Lying is not Raph's focus

He is all in for helping you take care of it

But as soon as he leans in, the turtle levels him with a stare so intense that Raph is slightly taken aback

“This guy looks like he could plan a heist,” he jokes, but he’s half-serious

He’s convinced the turtle has some secret agenda and will not let it out of his sight

Raph takes pride in helping you build a “fortified tank” to protect it from any “potential escape attempts.”

He even draws up “exercise drills” to help it “build character.”

He ends up calling it something like “Lil’ Warrior”

The turtle's name is Bob

And he spends a suspicious amount of time training it to recognize commands, because “A turtle like this needs discipline.”

Donnie’s reaction is extreme caution

Like... wtf? How is this turtle so ugly?

(He completely forgot that he is also a softshell turtle)

He’s thrilled you came to him about turtle care, especially because this guy is a fellow softshell

But then he notices the turtle’s… ominous glare

For the next ten minutes, Donnie just stares back, analyzing every detail

The turtle doesn’t blink

It feels like a showdown

"This isn’t just any turtle, you know," he mutters, more to himself

He immediately runs diagnostics on it, pulling out his tools to test its temperament and intelligence level, just in case

Donnie takes the turtle care seriously, sets up the perfect tank, gets the optimal UV lamp, and is constantly researching enrichment activities, but he still doesn’t entirely trust it

You catch him putting up tiny lasers around the tank "just in case."

And he insists on renaming it something like “Professor Menace” because, in his words

“Look at that face—he’s clearly up to something.”

Mikey’s reaction is pure delight. “Aw! Look at the lil’ guy!”

He immediately wants to hold it, but as soon as he picks it up, the turtle gives him a side-eye that could curdle milk

Yes, the turtle is judging Michelangelo

He tries everything

Offering lettuce, sweet-talking it, giving it little pets, but the turtle just stares, expression unreadable but somehow… sinister

“Why does he keep looking at me like that?” Mikey wonders, confused but determined to win the turtle’s affection

He’s convinced it just needs a bit of “good vibes,” so he tries playing calming music, talking to it about his day, and even painting a little flower on the tank

Despite the turtle’s apparent indifference

(And slightly ominous glare)

Mikey’s convinced they’re best friends

He starts calling it “Lil’ Grump,” swearing it’ll warm up eventually.