#jam is invading my brain

[your-oddities]

☆ • Jam headcanons !! • ☆

(Spoilers , of course. Nothing too big though. So don’t fret!!)

-Jay’s hands are cold. Frigid. Zero circulation. So when Tim first found this out, he held Jay’s hands for five solid minutes until Jay had to get back to what video he was editing. Hand holding is now a regular thing for them.

-Tim has always had this need to feel independent. He just hates relying on someone else in fear of being a burden. So he feels somewhat guilty whenever Jay buys him anything. Too bad Jay’s love language is gift giving.

-Great segway into saying that Jay’s love language is gift giving, with physical touch being a close second. Tim prefers quality time. Though they make it work somehow.

-While they both get anxiety talking to strangers, Tim’s more than willing to go up to somebody for Jay. Especially if it’s someone that could potentially be connected with The Operator. Tim knows first hand how easily it is for Jay to rub someone the wrong way. He’s found it’s easier for him to take the reins in social situations.

-If Marble Hornets was in present day, Jay would send cute cat videos to Tim with the text “us?”

-Tim is a dry ass texter and Jay hates it. He’s already an over thinker, so Tim uses tone tags (specifically ‘/nm’) to assure Jay he isn’t upset or anything.

-Jay will always wear Tim’s clothes. He used to find the smell of cigarettes too much, but after meeting Tim, it brings him so much joy. Prompting him to wear Tim’s jackets often.

-Tim, of course, noticed the first couple of times.

“Is that my jacket?”

“…”

“..no.”

“? … okay.”

-He stopped trying after that.

-I headcanon them to both flail in their sleep. This leads up to many nights of them getting smacked in the face by one another.

-So, as much as they love each other’s company, they sleep in separate beds. Or with a pillow in between their sleeping bodies. It’s the only way for a night to not turn into an unconscious smack down.

-Tim can handle spicy food well, though Jay can’t. That doesn’t stop him from taking a bite of Tim’s spicy food at a restaurant often.

-Jay spits it out onto a napkin and chugs his entire water. Tim watches across from him, trying desperately not to laugh.

-Tim shaved his beard one time without telling Jay. Jay was left wondering why his boyfriend was in the bathroom for so long. After a few minutes, Tim emerges clean shaven.

-Took a while for Jay to get over grieving the lack of hair on his face. He’ll still wake up in the middle of the night — well after Tim has grown his beard out again — haunted by the image… /j

-Tim accidentally stumbled upon Jay’s yearbook once. Safe to say Jay never heard the end of it about his highschool haircut.

. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ .

Thanks for making it to the end!! Love you, reader. Take care. ♡

[live-love-be-unique]

But It’s Home To Me

Summary: Eddie was meant to be the next metal god but things didn’t work out and he ended up a mechanic stuck in Hawkins, but with you by his side, that might not be such a bad thing.

This was inspired by a line from one of my favourite songs, Tomorrow by Shakey Graves, that just screamed Older Eddie to me:

Well, you love this heart and this six string, girl, oh

But they've been outta tune yeah for some time.

Parings: Older Eddie Munson x f reader

Warnings: none.

The dull ache that had started in his left shoulder as he drank his morning coffee had steadily traveled its way down into his lower back throughout the day and then, by the time he headed home it had reached his knees. I’m not old enough to have shitty knees, he thought, running a hand over his tired eyes, I’m only in my thirties.

As he drove home he remembers Wayne working the same long hours at the same garage, returning every night to the same trailer park the same ache in his bones and the bitterness returned as it always seemed to do lately, it was a sharp buzzing sound that filled his brain with a familiar doubt.

Eddie reached over and turned the radio up as Metallica filled the cabin of his old van, he could feel his grease covered fingers tapping out the familiar guitar chords. He still played of course as a way to keep connected to his dreams, and to make a little extra money on the side. Tutoring some of the kids in Hawkins was fun but not as fun as being on stage.

Corroded Coffin, his old band had traveled to Chicago to submit their demo tapes to a big music exec, who took their tapes and gave their music to another band without even giving them a chance. The band had broken up a few years later, he still kept in touch with the guys of course, getting together for regular jam sessions, they all had families of their own so those jam sessions were few and far between.

We could have been up there with the greats, the bitter thought invading his brain as the final notes of Enter Sandman die out. I should have put this shithole town in my rear view mirror years ago and never looked back.

He hadn’t though, he needed the money so Wayne had pulled some strings and gotten him some shifts at the garage and he never left. His shoulders felt heavy and the buzzing in his brain got louder as he pulled into the trailer park. Can’t even afford a proper house.

He’d met you on his first day, the world's prettiest receptionist he’d thought, he couldn’t even get the words out when you smiled at him at the end of his first day and asked how everything had gone.

He was smitten, so he went to Steve the next day for advice about how to ask you on a date. He tried to be smooth, he had a whole speech planned out, but when he saw you, he’d shyly stumbled out the words “would you want the movies…with me?” He cringes to this day at the memory. But you just smiled and accepted and that Friday night you were sharing popcorn as you watched Michael Myers disembowel teenagers, and later, when he dropped you off at your house he kissed you and asked you to be his.

You were his for two years, you were his own personal sunshine, he’d pick you up every morning and drive you home every night just to spend more time with you, you were never apart. Things were perfect, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty, like he was holding you back from something or someone better, someone like you deserved so much more than what he could offer, so he did what his father had done, he ran.

Fuck, Eddie thought, I was a fucking idiot, letting the best thing that ever happened to me slip through my fingers. He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition, he slumped down and leaned his head against the steering wheel, hands still tightly gripping the wheel.

His friends had told him that he was an idiot, he’d agreed of course, told him to get you back and somehow after six long months you had cautiously let him into your life again under the condition that he wouldn’t break your heart again. That was four years ago.

He looked up and glanced towards the kitchen window of his trailer and there you were, cooking dinner and swaying to some music. A soft smile graced his worn out features as he watched you sway along to the music playing.

Dropping his bag by the door as he entered your small trailer, chuckling a little at the familiar strains of your current favourite song playing softly. Eddie made his way to the kitchen. He watched you for a while as you cut up vegetables for dinner, you were wearing that little sundress he loved so much, god, he thought, you’re so gorgeous, he moved forward, wrapping his arms around your waist, he smiled as you jumped in surprise. Eddie pulled you tighter against his chest as his head dropped down to rest in the crook of your neck.

“Missed you baby” Eddie mumbled against your skin. He ran his hands over your swollen belly, your son would be here in a few short months.

You ran your nails along his arms eliciting goose bumps, the shine from the small diamond on your left hand catching his eye. He’d felt bad about not being able to afford anything more, but you didn’t care about that, he remembered fondly that you had squealed with joy when he proposed. You never complained about not having more, you always said you were happy with your life, with him.

Eddie stayed like that while you cooked, needing to feel your comfort. Whatever shitty things happened at work always evaporated whenever you were around.

“Daddy!” A tiny voice came from behind the two of you as your daughter padded into the kitchen in her little Snow White princess dress. Eddie turned and scooped up the tiny little girl with the same unruly dark curls and dark eyes as his.

“Hi pumpkin” he smiled as he shifted the little girl in his arms, holding her on his hip as she wrapped her tiny, chubby arms around his neck.

“I made you a picture” your little girl, Evie, proudly informed him, showing him the finger painting she’d made clutched in her tiny hands.

“You did?” Eddie asked, taking the paper and examining the drawing “I love it pumpkin!” he said, putting it on the fridge.

“Steve called, wants to have us over for a barbecue this Saturday” you mention, placing dinner on the small table. “I was thinking of making potato salad”.

Eddie places his daughter in her high chair and takes a plate from you, “it would be good to see everyone again”

He smiles as he watches you feeding your daughter, the feelings of comfort and warmth of his little family slowly replacing the bitterness he felt earlier.

“What?” You smile up at him and his heart skips a beat, the same as it did the first day you met.

“Nothing” he smiles, maybe not being a rock star isn’t so bad. It’s not much, but it’s home to me.

[v-ternus]

His Creation Myth

Nice little MountainDew I wrote that got me out of a writing slump. For @forlorn-crows , because of your kind tags on my last Mountain fic.

MDNI

~1900

tags: water Dew, virgin Dew, handjob, alot of praise, Mountain is absolutely whipped, nice mention of a little aftercare

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Freshly summoned Dew has a quiet movie night with Mountain, and lets all pretend that he's never done anything before. A problem arrises, and good boy Mount has to help him.

Below for your consumption.

It was just supposed to be movie night, a welcoming night so to speak with some snacks and lighthearted conversation. Mountain wanted a relaxed moment with the new summon. But things went sideways halfway through watching Nemo of all things. 

Dew had started feeling a weird heat pooling in his stomach. Before long, the slight pressure from the throw pillow on his lap was becoming excruciating. He sat there, with a pit of worry blooming deep in his chest, before finding the courage to raise the pillow a little. He finds a tent in his sweatpants with a small, darkening wet spot. The hot ache occupying his midsection combined with whatever this was made him feel like he was dying. 

He was apparently staring for too long, because Mountain had to interrupt his non-attention. 

“Something wrong?” Mountain’s words may as well be cracks of thunder, they spooked him and he stupidly jammed the pillow into his lap to hide his problem. It visibly makes him wince, which doesnt help Mountain’s brewing suspicions. 

“Nothing!” He says, too quickly, that it was definitely unusual. Mountain looks at him with those obnoxiously kind, green eyes, a stare that wasn't going to let Dew avoid confessing his problem. Dew was very new to life topside, he was fresh, but Mountain had already taken a liking to him. He could read him pretty well and had learned most of his tells. 

“It's written all over your face Dew, come on. You’re new, you couldn't have run into too many problems yet, I can guarantee that I’ve dealt with whatever it is,” 

The pleading and genuine concern was making things more difficult for Dew. His dick was really aching and he didn't know why, or how to fix it, how to make himself feel better. For all he knew, he could be dying, he had never dealt with this in the pit. Maybe something went wrong during his summoning, maybe his vessel was defective. Regardless, something was very, very wrong. 

Mountain pauses the movie and moves to face Dew, again asking what's wrong. His undivided attention makes Dew’s face hold a bright shade of red, hot shame working down his spine. He tries to curl in on himself further but ends up pushing the pillow down again. The harsh friction makes tears pool in the corners of his eyes. 

Mountain can smell his distress, astringent and bitter. He uses a finger to raise his chin up to bring them face to face. He’s left staring at a pair of eyes screwed tight. 

“Bug?” Dew’s breath hitches. The endearing nickname was the final nail in the coffin. 

Dew finally lets the words out with a whine, “It really hurts,”

“What does?” As far as he’s noticed, nothing had happened to Dew in recent days, and definitely nothing happened in the two hours they’ve been hanging out. He couldn't drum up a moment where he could’ve gotten hurt. 

Dew doesn't even really know what’s hurting, he cant really explain it, so his only option is to show Mountain. Once he moves the pillow, Mountain knows exactly why Dew is hurting. 

“Oh…” He swears he tried to keep his voice neutral so as to not alarm Dew, but he failed miserably. If anything, the way he said it further convinced Dew that something about this was bad, that it would be hard to fix. 

“What do you mean oh?! You have to help me. I think I fucked up Mountain.” A new scent quickly invades Mountain’s senses, it reeks of burnt wood and venom— fear. His brain is quickly wiped clean of any joke, realizing that Dew really has no clue what’s happening. 

“Calm down Dew, you’re perfectly fine,”

“How am I possibly fine?” The tears have started to fall against his rosy cheeks, leaving trails down to his jaw then neck. 

“You’ve really never…?” Mountain desperately needs the full picture, needs Dew to confirm his suspicions. Dew shakes his head, messily wiping off tears that wont stop falling.

“I know how to fix this,” Its Mountains turn to blush. He’s worried that he’s taking advantage of Dew in such an unknowledgeable state, but he’d be lying to himself if he said that this didn't make him throb in his own pants. The chance to relieve him, to teach him for the first time. The notion turned him into a puddle. 

He cradles Dew’s face, dragging his thumb across the tear streaked cheek. The warmth makes Dew loosen his eyes a bit, it takes him off the edge just enough so he can breathe. 

“You need to tell me if anything feels worse ok? Really Dew.” Dew sighs, hopeful for relief. 

“Ok,” Its a quick whisper, he follows it up with a nod just to make sure. His eyes are still shut, he doesn’t know what the cure is and he definitely doesn't know what Mountain is about to do. So he waits patiently, waits for whatever is supposed to make him feel better. 

What he doesn't expect is his shirt being lifted off and a new pressure surrounding his cock. The sudden contact makes him hiss. His eyes shoot open to see Mountain’s eyes locked on his crotch with his large hand palming over it. 

Pain floats around in his mind, he’s sensitive. He didn't think the pain could get worse, but it did. And it was torture. But it was steadily being replaced by a comforting warmth the more Mountain kneaded at him, so he didnt say stop. 

“I’ll show you Dew, how to make yourself feel good,” He drags a thumb over the larger wet spot, slowly, right over the tip, making a point to press down on where he thinks the slit is. Dew jolts and reaches for the offending hand, clamping around his wrist. 

“—feels like you’re lighting me on fire. Hurts.”

“Sorry,” He doesn't mean to tease, not now, but he just can't help it. It's built into him like his magic. It's stronger than second nature. He studies Dew’s face when he goes back to gentle touches. Takes in how his jaw has gone slack, how his pale blue eyes watch on with awe while Mountain touches him.

He gives one last tender squeeze before gently wiggling his arm out of Dew’s grasp. He hooks a finger into Dew’s sweatpants and works it down to his mid thigh, just enough to get it out of the way. Just enough to catch a glimpse of the offending member. 

He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw— a heavy cock that bounced against his stomach right under his belly button, leaking pre onto his little happy trail. Its nicely thick and long enough that the head would sit nicely in his throat if he got the chance to wrap his lips around Dew. 

“I’ll teach you everything Dew. You just have to let me.”  He wraps his hand around Dew’s cock and he feels it twitch, kicking against his hand. As well endowed as Dew is, he looks embarrassingly small in Mountain’s grasp. He wants to make a remark, make Dew blush even more by telling him just how small he is, but he tucks that fantasy away, for now. Dew’s cock is so red that it's almost purple, he understands then, why he shed tears. 

“It’s so much Mount,”

“Give it time Dew.”

He starts to stroke him, root to tip, lightly gliding over the head and Dew yelps each time. Soon, the drag of his hand fills the room with wet noises. The only other noise is a stream of ‘Ah, Ah, Ah’ falling from the little ghouls mouth.

“Your body already knows what to do, bug, look at how wet you are,” Dew moans, high and feminine. His eyes catch on his slicked thighs and hips, noticing how he they shine with the light dim light of the tv. Mountain's brain is enamored by how he looks like a star as he comes apart in his hands, by how pretty Dew sounds.

The previously overwhelming sensation has bled into indescribable pleasure, Mountain is towing Dew back from the thin line between pleasure and pain. With the relief, he starts to relax, his muscles go numb. 

The earth ghoul recites a silent prayer to whatever is out there. He prays that he’ll be the only one to ever hear his siren sing, that Dew will be his— that Dew would let himself be his.

The easiest support is against Mountain’s chest, so he uses it, leaning against the supple flesh while Mountain snakes his hand up onto the nape of his neck, dragging his nails over his scalp. He holds Dew close, relishes in his warm breath against him. 

Dew starts to roll his hips, jerky and uncoordinated, until he finds a rhythm. He thrusts up to meet the tight fist around him while Mountain uses his finger to pet at the sensitive spot under the head. 

“Good Dew, take what you want,” Mountain watches as even more slick drips out of Dew, it quickly reminds him of his soft spot for water ghouls.

Dew’s rhythm starts to falter and the muscles in his toned thighs start to twitch. Mountain can see it, hell he can damn near taste it, Dew was close.

A tightness forms deep in Dew's stomach, he’s about to have his first orgasm, ever. And the best part? He doesn't even know it. 

“Mountain, what is this? Its- Mount its…” He’s been reduced to a mumbling mess, devoid of any coherent thought thanks to Mountain’s ministrations. All he can do is cling to Mountain like he's his only chance at salvation, which in this moment, he really is.

“Just let it happen Dew, let go for me.”

Mountain tightens his hand and jerks him off faster, twisting when he gets to the tip and rubbing his palm into the head to polish it for good measure. He’s trying his hardest to snap the wound up band in Dew. 

Dew cums without a sound, save for the yelp of him choking on his own breath. He keeps nuzzling his face into the column of Mountain’s neck, grazing his fangs over the tender flesh. All he can smell is his earthy scent, laced with pine and lavender.

He has an unexplainable urge to bite, he wants to sink his teeth in, but he clamps down on his own lip instead. A tinge of copper hits his tongue as he breaks skin. His fingers stay wound up tight in the earth ghoul’s shirt, feeling like he would drift away without the tether. 

Mountain feels like luck is raining down on him as he gets to watch the birth of something he can only describe as celestial. He basks in the glory of Dew discovering pleasure, realizing desire, he watches as Dew fully becomes one with sin. He cant peel his eyes off of the cum spilled over his fingers, speckled along the small hairs of Dew’s happy trail.

Mountain keeps stroking him, working him through everything gently. Once Dew goes soft, he rests his dick gently against his thigh before wiping his mess off on his sheets. He pulls Dew into his lap, ignoring the stickiness that'll inevitably dry uncomfortably between them, and pulls him tight against his chest while leaning against the headboard. He feels Dew’s heavy breath, the deep rise and fall of his chest against his own. 

Dew shifts his leg and unknowingly nudges Mountain’s own throbbing cock, it makes him gasp. But his brain doesn’t recognize it beyond that, it doesnt care about his release. All his brain can think of is the twitching ghoul in his arms.

“Fuck, Mount. Fucking hell.”

“Was that ok? Are you ok?” Mountain expects a simple yes, but Dew’s answer is better than he could’ve imagined. 

“Teach me more sometime.” He feels him further sag into his chest, feeling hopeful for the future. He places a kiss against his hairline and catches his scent again. This time, Dew smells like petrichor and a breeze along a shoreline, sweet and light— happiness.

Dew resting on him makes him feel flayed open, like his raw nerves are being singed one by one. His brain is draped in the sensation— he can’t imagine a life without it.

They’ll eventually get up and when they do, he’ll run a bath for the both of them. He’ll lay Dew on top of him in the tub with his back to his solid chest. He’ll lean his chin on Dew’s bony shoulder and whisper about how good he was, how this is what he deserves each and every time he ever lays with someone. He’ll pepper the side of his face with soft kisses as he mumbles words of thanks, immensely grateful that Dew trusted him with something so special. They’ll stay till the water runs cold. 

He hopes Dew falls asleep tucked into his side. 

[ynculture]

CHANGE

pairings: nakahara chuuya x afab reader

summary: I welcome you to my brain rots. I hope you’ll enjoy. When the bratty doll, disobeys, she gets karma. Chuuya comes to her rescue.

tags: I don’t know how to tag, Not beta, I blow like Oda’s orphans, Afab reader, I’ve never had sex, Fem pet names (Doll), Fingering (momentarily), SH sorry, thigh riding, creampies. P to V fucking, Idk what else omg, EXHIBITIONISM!!!

notes: please don’t do this, practice safe sex (never had sex). 18+,  minor DNI!

wc: 1.7k

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Chuuya raised a brow as his eyes narrowed, scanning your frame. Glaring at the way you dress, your stature and all. Gazing and roaming his eyes on your physique, wearing a red collar tube dress that hugs your curves, greatly fitted on your body. Too much of your skin is exposed, it’s making him pissed.

It’s been some time since you got a day off from tons of missions demanded by the organization. So you decided to have a girls night out, clubbing with some other friends from the mafia. Chuuya is still busy with his paper works and reports that he won’t even bother join, not that he plans to crash the girls party.

“Huh? Why? Does it look bad?” You wondered, looking at your own self.

“No.” He exhaled sharply as his eyes darkened. “Come here, pretty doll.”

Confused and curious you comply to his request and walked closer to him. Standing in front of Chuuya when he suddenly bent you over the couch.

“W-what—” Your words hang on your lips as his gloved fingers traced the outline of your femininity through the thin fabric of your panties.

“It’s too short. A little movement and the skirt already hike up your thighs. Some bending over and your panties are already exposed.  Perverted assholes would surely oggle at you at the club.” He pointed in a stern tone, irritation hinted all over his voice. Yet he’s groping at your ass, caressing lightly before gripping on each side of your hips, as he slightly thrust his pelvis from behind making you feel his bulge. Letting go of you as you fell on the couch.

“Go get changed.” He ordered with full of authority, drawing a sour expression on your face. Chuuya likes it when you dress up, and he never had problems with your kind of clothing, but your dress tonight is just… sinful.

You look rather ravishing that he might just not let you out, have you all for himself. Alone.

You held your eyes on him, unfazed as you look at him with blank gaze. Annoyed at his demand.

“Thanks for your concern. I’ll just be mindful.” The tip of your heels clink as you walk out. Shock was evident on his face at your disobedience. His head still processing your bratty act that he wasn’t able to react immediately. The door already closed behind you as you walk towards the elevator, going down the building. Excitedly made your way for the club.

It was a Saturday night. The club full of party goers, ready to get wasted for the night. Having fun at the jam pack dance floor, people dancing to the rhythm of the loud music under the neon lights.

———

You were just having your fun when a shiver creep up your spine when you felt a breathy sultry whisper by your ears. Too close enough to hear from the loudness of the night. Too close enough to invade your personal space. Making you all uncomfortable.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” The stranger purred in your ear. His hand caressing at the roundness of your butt cheeks, lightly brushing his fingers by your inner thighs from behind. Groping at the plumpness.

Turning your back to face the man; his lips curved into a smug smirk, licking his lower lips, trying to look tempting— he was the same one who had been eyeing you ever since you set foot at the club earlier. Tall and handsome with his boyish charms, but simply not your taste. Not that he is even more interesting than Chuuya. (No one is more interesting than Chuuya could ever be, at least to you).

Your brows raised in irritation at his perverted advances. About to sass at him when someone from your behind harshly slapped the stranger’s hand away from being all touchy with you.

“Fuck off.” Chuuya warns. His gaze darkened, glaring icy daggers at the other guy. Clearly fuming and pissed off. Making it clear in his dangerous aura that he doesn’t accept any retorts or come back.

He hissed at him, clicking his tongue as the latter moved away and let go. Walking out of your sight, Chuuya’s expression lightly softens as he looked at you, caressing your cheeks gently.

“You okay, doll?” Concern was written all over his eyes, but you could only nod your head, still dumbfounded over the fact that he really still went after you at the club.

Your lips are agape but no words fell from your mouth.

‘Just what is he doing here anyway?’

“Good.” He exhaled, irritated and annoyance was still curved on his face as he held your hand, leading you out of the dance floor. Walking towards the table you and the girls occupied for the night.

You couldn’t help but let out a sigh as you tried to sit beside him, but he just grabbed at your waist, effortlessly placing you on his lap. Looking at him with questioning gaze, words hang from your lips. Without another word, he pushed your panties aside, sliding two fingers in your warmth. Harshly spreading apart inside.

It didn’t take another blink when his digits was replaced with his half-hard cock dipping in your pussy. You couldn’t help but hiss at the sting of not being prepared with any foreplay. Not yet slick enough with arousal to lubricate the sliding of his shaft.

Even still, he continues to penetrate deeper. Stretching your hole accustomed to his size. His hands are at each side of your hips, guiding the rocking and rolling of your body back and forth, up and down on his dick.

You couldn’t help but grip on the edge of the table for dear life as he didn’t paused his thrusting up to your hole. Even more so as you felt yourself slowly getting moist enough to drench his shaft with your wetness.

—Coldness rushes under your skin as he pressed his gloved palm on your inner thighs, lightly brushing his fingers over your clit, the same time Higuchi and Gin are coming back on your table. Your eyes widened as you gulped, letting go of your grip on the table out of reflexes.

“Ah?” They both paused as they saw the mafia executive.

“You’re here too, Chuuya-san?” Higuchi hiccups while Gin blinks her eyes trying to stay conscious. Both heavily drunk from drinking shots after shots from very moment you girls entered.

“That’s why we didn’t noticed where you went earlier. You suddenly went missing right there.” Higuchi lightly nodded to herself as she slumped on the other side of the couch, Gin sitting beside her, her head placed on the table, silent, drunken and sleepy.

“Yeah…” You awkwardly chuckles, feeling a little nervous yet thrilled and aroused over the current predicament. She continues bugging Gin, drinking even though they’re already clearly intoxicated. They didn’t even noticed how nor questioned why you’re sitting on a man’s lap, even more, your superior.

Or maybe simply, they just don’t bother. After all, it’s Chuuya. Chuuya Nakahara, Port Mafia Executive. Crashing your girls night out. Oblivious to how you straddle the mafioso's lap, riding on his thighs, with his thick hard cock buried deep in your pussy.

They’re back at the table, drinking and chugging glass after glass, bottles after bottles. Yet you and Chuuya are still busy in your own business.

Feeling him slightly increasing the pace of his thrusting up in your walls. Your folds fluttering at his base as he sinks deeper inside, burying himself in your core as your muscles clenched around his length. His thickness continuing to stretch you open at every slide.

Gathering all of your strength to not moan loudly as your breathing hitched. Whimpering lowly. Your chest heaving heavily as your gaze are shaky, sneaking glances at your friends, wary that they might caught you both in a shameless act.

Your nails digging in his skin as you held on his wrist. His gloved fingers teasing at your clit, rubbing circles as he pounded into you. You’re putting all your weight on him so not to give way on the deeds happening on your side. Keeping a lowkey vibe as Chuuya fucks you in front of your friends in a full packed night club.

You gritted your teeth as you clenched your jaws, lowering your head as your brows furrowed in pleasure. Biting on your lower lip as you hissed over feeling his teeth scraping on your nape.

“Shit… Fuck…Shh!—” Chuuya hushed and rocks as you roll your hips back to meet his pounding. His cock sloppily sliding back and forth your sopping cunt, drooling all over his balls and the crack of your bums. The zipper of his pants grazing at the skin of your back thighs.

His teeth lightly sink in the exposed skin of shoulder blade as he silently grunted near your ears. Feeling his cum painting your womb as he came inside your walls. Filling you full with his load. Breathless as he pressed kisses all over the length of your neck, nibbling on your skin, marking you with his love bites. His tongue swirling at the sucking.

“Chuuya…” You purred, trying to calm from the high.

“Hmm?” He hums as he continues to prep kisses. He’s unusually clinging to you in public. Displaying much affection than he usually does. His light kisses on your cheeks and forehead, turning into giving you hickeys. His warm embrace, turning into squeezing your frame with his hug. His hand that usually stays by the side of your hips or back, now kneading at the plump of your inner thighs, exposed to the cold breeze of the freezing air conditioner at the club. Making you more shaky and trembling than the washing of release over your femininity.

His hands and arms all over you. Covering your whole frame with his body, keeping you in a possessive protective manner.

“What are you doing here?” You wonders even though you already got the hint of his intentions for coming after you. His lips are by your ears, nibbling lightly on your earlobes.

“Why? You don’t want me here?” You snapped your head to look over him, your brows raised as amusement glinted your eyes over Chuuya’s pouty lips and whiny tone.

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle that vibrated through your still connected flesh. Mixed love juices drenching his pants, but he could care less. He wouldn’t even dare let go to move slightly away and tuck his dick back inside. Feeling the throbbing member against your pulsating walls.

“Shut up.” His cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, feeling hot and embarrassed at your chuckling over his reply.

“Let’s go home.”

[gaysindistress]

Sad girl - nine

summary: James has an interesting new business proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, guns, violence (it is a mob au after all), Bucky’s smartass, kissing, talks of being held at gunpoint, fluff??????

word count: 2.2k

part 8 | series masterlist

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident @spencerreidisagorgman   @i-have-no-life-charlie @esposadomd @reader-without-a-story @unaxv @iateall-yourcookies  @alana4610 @kandis-mom @beware-my-thorns @ozwriterchick @littlelizardlizzie @goldensunflowe-r

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Her phone alarm starts to go off and her hand blindly reaches out from under the covers to find it on the nightstand. Before she can find it, someone leans over her, body weight keeping her pinned down, and hits the stop button for her. She has to rack her brain for who the hell would be in her bed but the cologne is a dead giveaway. 

“Good mornin’” his voice is low and gruff, cracking from sleep. 

“Good morning,” she whispers as she turns to look at him, the sun hitting his chest and bouncing off the metal around his neck. His eyes are still closed so she takes the opportunity to look over the sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. It’s a mural of portraits, the faces of men and women that must be important to Jam… Bucky. She recognizes the face of his sister next to a man and woman who she assumes are his parents. 

As if he can feel her observing eyes, one of his blue ones flutters open and watches her through his lashes. He could say something to explain why he has a portrait sleeve but the risk of scaring her is too high. She had rolled off his chest at some point in the night however having her within arms reach is enough for him. 

“I can feel you looking at me.” 

“Says the one who was staring at me first,” he turns on his side to face her, dog tags sliding and clinging as he moves. 

“I was merely observing you.”

“Hmmm.”

Her fingers reach out to touch the dog tags but freeze, not knowing if she would be invading his space by doing so. 

“You can touch them,” he says, sensing her hesitation.

Picking up the dog tags, her cold fingers brush against his sun-warmed skin and cause him to shiver. Her thumb brushes over the raised lettering, reading over his name, birthday, and military title among other things. 

“You’re a Pisces.”

“That I am.”

A moment passes before she speaks again, hesitant about the knowledge she’s about to ask about. 

“I didn’t know you were a sergeant,” she says her eyes finding his, and continues to trace the lettering. 

“Not many people do.”

“Why’s that?”

His hand gently circles his wrist, keeping her hand against his chest, “It doesn’t get brought up.”

“Doesn’t get brought up or you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Probably a bit of both.”

“Do you want to talk about it? With me I mean.”

He gives her wrist a tug and pulls her onto his chest as he rolls back onto his back, “What do you want to know?”

“Is that how you know Steve and Sam?’’

“Steve is a friend from childhood but Sam, Steve, and I did all serve together in Iraq.”

“So that’s how you’re a freelance contractor,” she mutters mostly to herself but Bucky still hears. 

“My dad and Steve’s dad were into some shady business growing up so we joined the army to get away from all of it. Coming back, we had a skill set our dads didn’t so we got caught up in it. Sam joined us, looking for a job after he got out and that’s how he got involved.”

She can hear the thumping of his heart against his rib cage and feel his voice through his chest as he speaks. There is sadness in his voice when he talks about his service. 

“I’m not in my dad’s business anymore but it’s still not the best to be a part of. The money’s great, morally not so much,” he continues on, “I try to only take on the really bad jobs but you have to go where the work is sometimes.”

“You’re a morally grey freelance contractor. Not bad but not good,” she suggests.

A chuckle rumbles through his chest, “I guess you could say that.”

She moves her head to look up at him, cheek pressed against the plains of his chest, “You’re a better man than my father.”

“You really think so?” there is a twinge of hope in his voice that she actually believes that. 

“Are you selling highly potent drugs and nearly indestructible weapons to very dangerous people? No, you are not. You got caught up in the life of organized crime and choose to make the most of it and do good where you can. So yes you are a far better man than Anthony Stark. Steve and Sam are very lucky to have you as a friend.”

The hope he felt fully spread through his body, warming his heart and cheeks as a smile spreads across his face at her words. Some days he catches glimpses of a relationship forming but the fade when she ardently reminds him that she is not his and will never be. Come to think of it, she has yet to remind him of that but it’s only a matter of time.

“Some people might disagree with you on that one, Doll.”

“Then they can come to talk to me and I’ll set them straight. I’m the only one who gets to bully you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. It’s my job to keep you in check,” teasing him, she props herself up so she can properly look at him. 

“And to remind me that you’re in charge here and don’t belong to me,” the risky statement is one that he curses himself for trying but deep down he has to at least test the waters.

“You’re right. I am not property so I don’t belong to anyone. However this ring and necklace,” her left hand comes up to her ‘B’ necklace, “do a pretty good job of leading people to think that you’re the one calling the shots when we know it’s really me.”

“Ya know Doll, you keep saying that but I have yet to see you prove it.”

“Oh, you want to see me prove it?” she giggles as she pushes herself fully up and goes to straddle him, “you don’t think I can be in charge?’

“I don’t doubt it, just haven’t seen it yet,” his hands catch her hips as she settles onto his lap and smiles up at her, toothy grin on full display. 

“Hmmm,” she places her hands on his chest, steadying herself, “what can I do to prove that I’m the boss man here?”

“If I answer that wouldn’t that mean I’m the boss man?”

“Oh shut up,” and with that she leans down, pressing her lips against his. A soft groan of appreciation gets caught in between their lips as she shifts against him, rubbing him through his boxers unintentionally. 

“I think I like kissing you,” she mutters against his lips before diving back into a kiss. 

His hands grab her face as it deepens and he can’t help but chase after her lips when she pulls away to breath.

“What do I have to do to get you to love kissing me?” he asks. 

“Keep kissing me.”

“Yes ma’am,” they both giggle into their kiss as he flips them over. Her hair sprawls out on the bedsheets when she bounces back slightly and his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of her, completely carefree and pliable under him. This is something he could get used to. 

_______________________________________________

Given that it’s a Sunday morning, she decided that she wasn’t going to get up unless absolutely necessary. Bucky, on the other hand, had to leave the warm bed, saying something about training sessions with Steve as he picked up his clothes. With a wink, he walks out of the room in his boxers and clothes in his arms, giving her quite a nice view. 

Finally she has time to herself and with that comes the rushing memories of yesterday. The book on her night stand seems like a good distraction so she picks it up and attempts to lose herself in the reimagined Romeo and Juliet story. 

She’s successful in her task because nearly 2 hours go by without her even noticing. Her stomach makes a loud declaration that she needs to go get some food NOW. After setting her book down, she slides her old college sweatshirt over the t shirt she’d worn to bed and puts the socks she’d kicked off in her sleep back on. 

‘I should really invest in some slippers,’ she thinks to herself as the cold stairs seeps through her socks on her way to the kitchen. 

Like usual, Natasha is at the counter, typing away at her computer and a cup of coffee next to her. 

“Good morning, Nat,” Doll greets her while opening the fridge to grab creamer and making her own coffee. 

“Right back at you. How are you after,” she pauses for a second and waves her hand around as she continues, “everything?”

“Haven’t been held at gunpoint before so ya know, not great but alive.”

“That’s fair. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I don’t think he would’ve actually shot me but I would pay to see what Bucky’s reaction would’ve been if he had.”

The nickname sliding off her tongue brings a smile to Natasha’s face but she doesn’t mention it. 

“I’m sure he would’ve burned the world down if it meant bringing John to justice. He’d do just about anything to keep you safe.”

Doll nods her head after taking a sip of her coffee. She sees the smile and glint in Natasha’s eye and it’s contagious because she too is smiling at the thought of Bucky and her. The moment is broken by the sound of Steve and Bucky arguing. 

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you; I won that round fair and square,” Steve asserts as Bucky is shaking his head. 

“You got in a cheap shot. That’s not winning fair and square,” Bucky argues back as they step into the kitchen. 

The two men are both in workout clothes but the way Bucky’s tight shirt perfectly fits his torse and biceps has her averting her eyes so the burn of her cheeks stops. Natasha giggles at her reaction, earning a side eye from Bucky and Steve both. Steve is the one to notice the other woman first. 

“Morning Doll!” 

She smiles at him but Bucky’s grin catches her attention. Steve takes the hint and turns his attention to Natasha, both pretending to notice the look that the two idiots are sharing. 

Rounding the island, he pulls her into his side by her hip as he steals a sip from her coffee cup. The look they share isn’t  necessarily one of  love but it’s definitely bordering it. For it to be love, they’d have to admit they like each other and enjoy the other’s company and good luck getting two stubborn people to do that. 

“Jesus that’s sweet. Would you like some coffee with your creamer?”

“Maybe don’t steal my cup,” rolling her eyes, she takes her cup back and their fingers brush against each other. 

“How was your morning?” he moves away to get his own cup as he asks her. 

“Good, better than yours from the sounds of it.”

“Just so you know I won and Bucky is a sore loser,” Steve pipes up. 

“You’re a cheater so I have every reason to be a sore loser.”

“Hmm okay sure whatever you say,” laughing, Steve and Natasha leave the kitchen, giving them some space and time alone. 

Bucky leans against the counter opposite of her, watching her as she giggles and waves goodbye to them. 

“I hate to ruin your good morning but Steve and I were talking about the possibility that John could try to pull something if we had a big wedding. It might be safer to postpone it or have a private ceremony until we can figure out what to do next.”

“Oh um, yeah I guess that’s fair. Isn’t the wedding date written into the contract though?”

He sets his cup down and crosses his arms, “Yes but your safety is more important. I’m sure we could work something out with your father.”

“You clearly don’t know him that well. Let’s just do a private ceremony and we can have a big reception later on.”

His eyebrow raises in surprise, “You want to have a big wedding?”

“I mean I always dreamed of having a big wedding growing up. Even if it’s not exactly how or who I envisioned myself getting married to, I would still like to have one.”

That hurt his heart more than he’d like to admit. 

Realizing how that sounded, she quickly tries to recover, “Wait that’s not what I meant. I mean yes we are in an arranged marriage but I’m happy that it’s you that I’m getting married to. I just wasn’t picturing my marriage to be an arranged one is all.”

His hands find her arms, “It’s okay, Doll. I understood what you meant and for what it’s worth, I’m happy it’s you who I’m marrying as well. I don’t think anyone else would be able to handle this life or put up with me.”

“You make it sound like you’re the big bad wolf.”

“I thought I was a vampire,” tugging her into his chest, he holds her close. 

“The jury is still out,” her response is muffled by his shirt as she encircles his waist with her arms. 

“Tell them to hurry up. We’ve got a wedding in a couple of weeks and I’d like to know if I should avoid garlic bread.”

“Oh shut up,” she laughs into his chest, content and at peace. 

[mrsweasley23]

Uh-oh voyeur Steve invaded my thoughts again... (Part 2)

Absolutely NSFW

Part 8 Part 7 Part 6 Part 5 Part 4 Part 3 Part 1

Full fic available on ao3

The second time was, well, not quite so accidental. Steve had finished work and just hopped out the shower when his phone buzzed.

"Hey. You staying at Rob's tonight?"

He typed a quick no and was about to hit send when he stopped. Eddie had been out to a club tonight. He was asking if Steve was staying out. Fuck! He was planning on bringing a guy back.

"Yeah, we're just watching a movie"

"Sweeeeeet. See you in the morning!"

Two weeks. It had been two tortuous weeks since Steve overhead Eddie fucking the brains... shit, the very soul out of some guy. Two weeks. Two weeks of Steve closing his eyes, stroking his cock and imagining himself in Eddie's room. Imaging his cock in Eddie's hands. Imaging Eddie in him. Two weeks of tratoirous blushes and awkward eye contact, Steve trying desperately to hide his growing desire, often his growing cock, whenever Eddie was around. Shit, he'd even gone to buy lube, desperate to find something, to fill that empty ache he didn't know existed until he heard Eddie mercilessly ram his cock into another guy.

So Steve hid signs of life, closed his door and he waited. He was starting to doze against the inside of his door when he heard a loud thump and a few giggles.

"Can't keep your fucking hands off me can you, you little slut". A familiar growl. One that went straight to his cock.

"You've been such a tease", the other man whined. "Those jeans are something else"

"Oh you like these do you? Tight fucking jeans, over my tight little ass"

Steve knew exactly which jeans he was wearing, and, holy fuck, he wasn't surprised Eddie had hooked up with someone. They were positively sinful. Earlier in the evening, Steve had swallowed painfully when he noticed the swell of Eddie's cock, desperate to throw his head straight in his lap, run his tongue along the length, make Eddie hard for him. Fuck, as if that would ever happen.

"They're fucking amazing. But, I'd still rather get them off. I'm sure I remember your promising me something"

"Oh baby" Eddie drawled. "Don't you worry. I never break my promises. I'm going to bend you over right here and fuck you until you can't fucking see straight".

Steve was drooling. Actual fucking spit pooling in his mouth as he listened to Eddie's deep growl. Fuck. He wanted that to be him. He wanted Eddie to bend him over and fucking take him. Make him scream. Make him his.

He heard the jeans hit the floor. "I got myself ready for you. In the bathroom in the club. Wanted to be ready"

"You filthy boy, fingering yourself open for me, thinking of me. Jamming your fingers up your sweet ass. How many did you take? Two? Three? Let me check..."

And before he knew it, Steve was working himself open, pushing his fingers in knuckle deep, imaging Eddie's calloused fingers pushing deep rather than his own.

"Fuck, you weren't lying. You have been busy. Come here"

Giggles, shuffles, kissing then....

"Oh holy fuck. Eddie".

"You like that baby?".

I do, I fucking do, Steve plays over and over in his head. Fingers slip out of his ass, it's not enough. He needs more. He takes his cock in his hand, strokes timed with the pounding from outside the door.

"I love to fuck pretty little boys like you. Pretty little boys go wild for my cock splitting them wide open".

Fuck, Steve thought. Split me open. I'll be your pretty boy, I can be a good boy for you, Eddie. Anything you want. He's frantic, sweat beading, breath hitched, cock pulsing, throbbing as his ears are filled with slapping flesh, moans, hisses, screams. Then finally, "Fuck Eddie. Right there. Fuck. Don't stop. Don't you dare fucking stop. I'm gonna come".

"Come for me baby" Eddie purrs and Steve snaps, a whimper escapes his bitten lips as he comes harder than ever before. Black fucking spots in his vision. Head, heart and cock pounding.

His cock is still throbbing in his hand when he hears Eddie practically fucking roar. Imagines his dick slamming hard into the ass of the other guy. Imagines Eddie's hot cum flooding his ass. Flooding Steve's ass. Oh fuck. He wants that so bad.

"You're really fucking loud" the other guy chuckles.

"It's hard to stay quiet when it feels so fucking good" Eddie purrs. "Thank fuck for absent roommates".

Steve smirks and retreats silently to bed. He's going to be a very good absent roommate whenever Eddie needs it in the future.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Uh Uh! Miss Salome! *raising my arm high like I'm in class and snapping my fingers* May I give two suggestions for the just friends playlist please? :) I already prepared a little presentation:

1.) "Jeremy" by Pearl Jam

I just heard that song again after a long time and I immediately had to think about König as a young boy or teenager. I just want to give the little nugget a hug so bad and tell him that he will find true love one day...

"At home drawing pictures

Of mountain tops

With him on top

Lemon yellow sun

Arms raised in a V

And the dead lay in pools of maroon below"

Imagine our little K in his broken home. His violent tendancies, induced by the abuse he has to suffer trough, are already blooming as a little boy. His father is yelling at his mother downstairs. König in his room is escaping into his imagination, drawing himself on top of one of the austrian mountains he can see from his window as the hero who defeated all evil, standing on the corpses of his enemies...

"King Jeremy the wicked

Oh, ruled his world

Jeremy spoke in class today"

"King Jeremy the wicked" ?! That fits so fucking well, my head is spinning. That weird kid who falls out of every norm, physically as well as mentally, and who can't seem to find his place on this earth like an alien from another galaxy whose spaceship crashed here and he can't get back. So he becomes quiet, just trying to be as invisible as possible, to not always be confronted with his otherness, not drawing even more attention to himself. And if on a rare occasion he speaks in class, you can hear the giggles and whispers of the other kids. After that, every time he promises to himself to never say a word again. Anger, shame and sadness laying heavy in his stomach.

"Clearly I remember

Pickin' on the boy

Seemed a harmless little fuck

But we unleashed the lion

(...)

And he hit me with a surprise left

My jaw left hurting

Dropped wide open"

One day something clicks in his brain. For years he is getting bullied, always tried to flee from the conflicts, never fighting back. But this time instinct kicks in and he hits back, hate and fury burning in his eyes. The others don't see the freak who they pick on daily for fun, before them stands a giant, an always passive and obedient bull that just got aware of his own strength and who's not afraid to use it from now on. The others run away. König stands there, an odd sense of relieve in his chest. He won for once in his fucking life, he has the upper hand now. He will get addicted to this feeling. There's no going back.

2.) "Vermillion" by Slipknot

Keywords here are: dark, dirty, romantic, obsessive. What can I say more? (I recommend watching the video while listening, it fits the whole vibe of the story very nicely I think!)

"So fragile yet so devious

(...)

She's the only one that makes me sad"

Engel being this seemingly soft and shy girl with the pretty dresses, who no one sees. But she has that twist, that fascination for darkness and madness. And König who detatched himself from his own emotions due to all the trauma, to survive all the abuse. But Engel reaches deep into the dark pit in the middle of his chest, arms deep, afraid what she will find but determined nonetheless, retrieving his scarred heart. Holding it in her soft hands, dusting off the spiders webs and giving it a little warmth back, just a bit more, little by little, whenever they see each other.

"My Dahlia bathed in possession

She is home to me

I get nervous, perverse, when I see her it's worse

But the stress is astounding

It's now or never she's coming home

Forever"

Shit, I don't think I even need to elaborate any further here...

"I'm a slave and I am a master"

König, on the first look, is having the upper hand in the relationship, being possessive and controlling Engel, invading her privacy in any way he can and being the dominant part when having sex with her. But if we're being honest, König is totally at Engels mercy. She holds him firmly in her soft little hands and he would do anything for her.

Thank you for your attention. *giving out handouts to everyone and going back to my desk*

Holy moly that ask is long enough already. Thanks for all the fodder for my brain with the König craze on your blog recently! I'm REALLY enjoying it!

Much love to you and everyone who read along! <3

These are perfect songs as well! I added them to the playlist but feel free to add more if you have any suggestions, the link should be working now & can be found in König masterlist and the ask I answered right before this one.

I loved your presentation & loved all the details you wrote about König’s life (no matter how sad most of them were 💔), and how he feels with Engel, how his inner world comes alive in the lyrics of the songs. And this really got me:

"Engel reaches deep into the dark pit in the middle of his chest, arms deep, afraid what she will find but determined nonetheless, retrieving his scarred heart. Holding it in her soft hands, dusting off the spiders webs and giving it a little warmth back, just a bit more, little by little, whenever they see each other. "

Brb crying 😭

"König, on the first look, is having the upper hand in the relationship, being possessive and controlling Engel, invading her privacy in any way he can and being the dominant part when having sex with her. But if we're being honest, König is totally at Engels mercy. She holds him firmly in her soft little hands and he would do anything for her."

Yes oh dear god. I had (a little too much) fun writing the yandere x yandere drabble but I still think König & Engel are just made for each other! He is on his knees in spirit, forever pledged to her and only her. If these were the old myths and if this was an actual dark fairytale, König would go to the depths of the underworld to bring her back from the dead, he would rend the heavens and announce war on God if he kept her from him. It's that serious. ❤️

[bltzgore]

Alright, alright, so I have a thing about ribs. Usually, I love breaking them, but join me on a journey as my brain reminds me I once read: "pry out ribs with a crowbar" (or something of the like).

Tw: GORE and i cannot stress that enough, stabbing, blood, broken bone, invasive intimate touch on the torso (nonsexual), breathing trouble.

What we have to start with here is a motive. Why are we prying this rib out? Are we sending a message? Are we trying to leave whumpee with the most painful death we can manage on hand? Are we taking a trophy back to the big boss and leaving whumpee to die? -Oooooh yes, that one.-

Next is the technical process, cause removing a rib can be done safely, but we're not doing that. This is just a mess of gore (but that's on brand for me) you could cut back the skin first to get a better look at it, pick which one you want. Or you could just go for it and see what happens. -Let's wing it!-

Always remember to pick a healthy amount of complications, collapsed lung is one of my personal recommendations.

I think a wretched, trashed, back alley is the best backdrop for such a situation, time to paint the picture:

It was the height of summer. Everything was slick with sweat or damp through with the humidity. It made the fight that much harder and allowed whumper to put whumpee on their back that much quicker. The thing keeping them there was the stab wound. Whumper had driven their knife right into the flesh of whumpee's leg. Then they had pulled up.

Whumpee had also taken a serious hit to the head, so they were having a hard time telling up from down. So they laid there, watching the figure over them move and discuss just how much they were going to make off this hit. None of it was really processing, with the concussion and blood loss.

Whumper stopped talking and something seemed to have changed. They were looking at whumpee again. No. Not just at whumpee. A specific part of whumpee. Whumper was studying whumpee's torso.

Whumper knelt down and drew up whumpee's shirt. Whumpee made a move to fight back but whumper pinned them too quick and with too much strength, even with just one arm.

Whumper traced their fingers across whumpee's ribs, bringing goosebumps to whumpee's skin. Whumper stopped on one, tapped it, then pressed hard into the gap just below it.

Whumpee winced and breathed out, with no choice other than taking it in stride.

"I like this one." Whumper decided. Their words slowly slithering into whumpee's poor fogged brain.

Whumper moved off, withdrawing a few steps and bending down to grab something.

Had whumpee been more aware they would have tried to run, to move, to crawl away. Too little, too late. Whumper returned and stepped on their chest, roughly forcing the air out of it. Whumpee was rattled but the fear didn't double down until they managed to focus their eyes on the thing whumper was holding.

A crowbar?

That was the last coherent thought whumpee managed before something split their brain in two. The teeth of the crowbar broke the skin, and whumpee screamed. There was no break from the pain, no moment to catch their breath as the red invaded their vision, forced their exhausted body to thrash, and their vocabulary shrink to the most deperate words they knew.

Whumper doubled down. They jammed their tool to the side until they felt it hit the bone. They grinned as they wrentched a hole into a living breathing creature, "There it is." And jammed down on the bar, adding more and more force until the bone crunched.

Whumper didn't get the whole rib, but they were certain it would be enough, as they tore through the skin to get at it. They took their prize and stood, giving whumpee one last look.

Whumpee's torso was a mess of blood that almost distracted from the hole that looked like torn cardboard, gaping and gaging blood all down whumpee's sides.

Whumpee was not as still as they should have been, gasping like a dying fish. But whumper solved that mystery rather quickly.

"I must have hit your lung. Ruptured chest wall and all that makes it pretty hard to breathe, doesn't it?" They grinned, then examined their gleaming, bloody prize. "Thanks for your cooperation. Die well." Then turned on their heels and vanished into the gathering storm.

Whumpee's body was in ruins, all that was left was for their exhaustion to put them out. It was all they had left to hope for.

The alternative, die of blood loss.

And maybe caretaker will show up if you really want them too...

Bye!

[muekyn]

♥ “your southern constellations got me so dizzy.” ♥ sum | 24 | she/them | bisexual | intj | taurus

💜· ✙ hello!! im summer and this is my art and personal blog~

currently, this blog is a curation of all my interests and things my brain really wants to obsess over.

uhh yeah. hope you enjoy your stay!

💜· ⛧ inbox

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💜· ✧ jam (invader zim oc) | aot self insert

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[motheatenscarf]

I've been working my way to getting all classes leveled up for Talia because... I'm insane and love to set impossible goals for myself. I haven't been talking about too many of them bcs I have nothing to say about most of them, but since I've played through 9 now

Here is a quick summation of my thoughts, ranked from least to strongest reactions I've had;

Paladin: This is boring. I'm bored. I don't care about any of these people or their dumb problems, let me kill class enemy lalafell.

Astrologian: I don't care about these people or their problems, I already know from MSQ and better job stories that Ishgard sucks. These outfits DO rule tho.

Dancer: Huh, that dance to cure people of the morbs turned out surprisingly relevant... too bad it didn't matter! Oh well. Who are these people? What are their problems? Nevermind, I don't care. Dancing scenes are pretty at least.

Red Mage: These outfits rule. But wow, I don't care about these people. I actually weirdly hate this amnesia girl? Not for GOOD reasons, just for like. Trope reasons. Not her fault, but still, I hate when she's here.

Samurai: I don't care until suddenly for 2 minutes at level 60 it stops just being fun Samurai movie homages and tropes and gets REAL with Musosai trying to suicide by WoL. A momentarily beautiful moment that reincorporates and recontextualizes a silly moment from earlier in the story, describing atonement through having to LIVE and make amends, arguing that remorse is what separates good from evil, and wow! This was great! I legit loved- oh, they immediately ruined it with the Stormblood quest to uphold the status quo of a corrupt regime and made Musosai's student morally in the right thus making his death and guilt meaningless.... well, I hate this! Least favorite class story now.

Reaper: I love a mean old battleaxe so Drusilla is rad as fuck and this is some fun lore on Emet and Garlemald in general. I choose to care about this because I headcanon that my own WoL is from Garlemald and this is relevant.

Ninja: This is boring and kinda sucks, but Karasu is here and I love him. An eccentric theatrical weirdo here to test the hero and cause problems for drama? Yes, I DO love trickster figures, thank you. Oh wait, he's not a villain, just a decent dude trying to get out of a bad situation and being cagey to cover his own ass and help you so you can get him out of this jam? Rad. But why can he control bats as his Children of the Night if he's not evil? ... Don't worry about it! I don't know if he's a GOOD character, but my god is he a FUN character. That's all I care about. Look at how much I love Zenos; I DON'T need depth to have a good time. That said;

Dark Knight: I am WEEPING inconsolably over Fray and Myste, chortling over Moogles and Sid, and Rielle is but one of my many, MANY adopted kids from this game. It is perfect. I could talk about Dark Knight for hours, I lost an entire day of progressing through story just having to be insane about the reveal that Emet Selch was a Dark Knight, perhaps the FIRST Dark Knight, because OF COURSE HE WAS. Dark Knights are about LOVE and grief manifesting tangibly, and oh my god, everything ties in together as a coherent whole. I'm not normal about Dark Knight. I'll never be normal about Dark Knight. It invades my brain and gives words to the Things I'm Trying To Say about characters and what I want out of stories. Finding out that the woman who wrote Dark Knight took over as lead writer got me through the worst of how much I HATED base Stormblood and thank god it did because it meant I stuck with this game long enough to play Shadowbringers and Endwalker and didn't consider Heavensward just a fluke. Dark Knight saved this game for me. Dark Knight is incredible. Dark Knight has more to say about storytelling, motivation, and a player's role in and relationship to a story than anything I've ever seen from a SINGLE PLAYER RPG, let alone an mmo. Dark Knight is fucking transcendent.

Fishing: This is the dumbest story so far and I fucking love it. I love traveling the world with this lunatic who took up work as an ASSASSIN to fund her fishing hobby. She has her priorities in order, she is the most correct about the point of this game and I love her.

[buginateacup]

For the kissing thing, 26 with Megamind x Roxanne? 👀

Okay so it's a bit more than a drabble but!

Prompt: ''i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in''

"I was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead, jump right in."

"Thank you," Roxanne's voice called from the other side of the frosted glass, "I will."

Megamind rubbed awkward hands over the sticky remains of the Jamintor 5000 clinging to his suit. (Listen, listen Minion it's an excellent name. It shoots ultra sticky strawberry preserves at high velocity AND it plays rocking tunes!) And tried very hard not to watch the blurry pink silhouette visible through the shower wall.

"This is my bathroom." He tried to point out.

"I'm aware."

"Minion did say he was going to drive you home once he found the seat covers, I know he did."

"He took too long. And I was sticky," Steam billowed through the bathroom, "I genuinely don't think my clothes are going to make it out of here." She did not sound sorry about this fact.

"So instead you decided to invade my abod-ee?" He stared determinedly at a cracked tile high on the wall, "How perfectly diabolical Miss Ritchi, we'll make an Evil Queen of you yet."

"Or you could get in the shower and make one of me right now." She retorted, twisting under the spray and running her hands over her head.

Megamind's brain put that comment and the previous one to one side in the box labeled: Things Miss Ritchi says during witty back and forth that are obvious attempts at distraction and not to be taken seriously or thought about ever at all ever. Things like "Maybe we should just have dinner instead?" or "Man I would kill for some coffee right now, want to make a pitstop?" or "You could just call me if you're running late, here's my number."

"And," Her voice continued, "You still owe me an apology."

Ah. Of course. She was always so insistent on talking these things out. "I said I was s-ss…you know"

"I know." She replied lightly, "But you can make it up to me that little bit more by sharing your shower."

"I don't think I have much choice in the matter."

"You don't."

"Well," He could feel a trickle of jam congealing down the back of his neck ,"If you'll ah, let me know when you're done?"

"Oh don't wait on my account."

"What?"

Roxanne's hair was pushed away from her forehead, water running down her skin as her face and one shoulder leaned out of the shower. Her eyes looked oddly exasperated "Are you getting in or what?"

Megamind's brain skipped like a record, "What?" he repeated blankly and watched, outside of himself like a dream, as her hand, wet and still faintly smelling of strawberry, reached out and closed around the edge of his cape. Tugging him forward until he was up against the glass with no memory of how he got there, and Roxanne's eyes were smiling at him fondly.

"There's room in here for two." She murmured and her mouth tasted like strawberries as she pulled him under the spray.

~~~~~~

A while later Roxanne eyed him through lashes that sparkled with droplets, strawberry sticky clothes discarded firmly at their feet. "Are you going to say sorry yet?"

Megamind grinned through the water running over his face and kissed her again, "No I am absolutely not."

[fivedayslater]

Put 10 songs you listen to, then tag others!

Tagged by @last-haven 💜

1.

So cathartic to shout along with the chorus both in high school and now

2.

Peek patd for me honestly

3.

It’s a Big Mood

4.

Because I’m always in my emo phase actually

5.

Ado swooped in, did Film Red, and somehow invaded all of my playlists

6.

Also a constant mood, and I can’t not put Bruce in here

7.

This has been my jam since it came out

8.

Always a jam

9.

I like it it makes my brain happy

10.

The song of all time

Tagging @amarantae @twyxted-mind @hawksbrood @dragonpressgraphics 💜

[k00287999]

For my next portrait exploring growth from decay, I was inspired by Ophiocordyceps, a parasitic fungus that invades insect exoskeletons. This fungus attacks the insect's brain, compelling it to travel to a location ideal for fungal growth. The insect is then forced to bite down on a surface, whereupon a fungal stem grows out of the insect's head, killing it and releasing more spores to infect more insects. I love the duality of morbidity and haunting beauty in the insect image above, and I attempted to recreate this by placing a fresh mushroom on a charcoal self-portrait (covered by a jam jar), in order to create fungal growth on the portrait. Unfortunately this did not happen, possibly due to the freshness of the mushroom and/or the conditions the piece was displayed in. These are lessons I will remember for next time.

[mety-zah-potato-knight]

To people that have stumbled onto my wacky blog, hello, hi! The name’s MetyPotato (Mety for short), and welcome to my recycling bin, where anything can happen! (there’s mac n cheese and apple juice here)

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Simple things about me!

a simple she/her, an autistic, likes to draw 24/7 when the time grants me; video games, cartoons, manga, quality fanfiction and the like are my jam and my brain like to go all over the place sometimes. I may also have a habit of posting on random times and may be a lurker, there’s that too.

In terms of fandoms and the like, I’m into many things, but here’s my main hyper fixations at the moment:

Mario, Kirby, Splatoon, Legend of Zelda, Genshin Impact, Gravity Falls, Invader Zim and Hollow Knight, amongst many others.

Enjoy your stay! :]

[aliswrldd]

idek why gojo straight up invades my brain whenever i jam to this banger. its like my neurons go all haywire or something lmao

[the-firebird69]

Queen - Radio Ga Ga 1986 Live Video Sound HQ

He's talking to his wife and he says the morrlocks are doing well the jamming up the radio. I used to know he's a rebel now they can't figure out their ass from their elbow and it's forced to do a job and that job is working for them and they decide to turn on them and yeah they were protecting them things would have worked out differently but they would be enslaved by Dave and he can be very mean and it would be the new boss and instead of the old boss it'll just be a trade out and they're complaining like hell about radio Gaga and it looks like it's supposed to draw out the process and that's why it makes sense but it says it right there and you're showing him and then it points back to 1997 and that's the year that it happened and the year that his brain left and Tommy f has been trying to get the embeds and people don't know if he got them or not if he used them correctly or not and they don't know what the status is of the computer and my husband says so he gets the brain and has probably a few years to try and get the invades I know it's a few years after 97 and he's running around after you even in China That's Tommy f to try and get the things to work or to find out if it's all of them and there's a lot of in beds for a lot of computers and it takes time so probably 10 years of that that would land us and 2007 almost 2009 when you couldn't get a job again and just sits there and threatening to try and get all the embeds and to try and kidnap all the people and to grab my husband to try and deactivate all the computers no it would be probably from 2007 or 2006 Fords or earlier and we think before China that he started to try and build his own perhaps shut them down and so forth but they say there's a huge complex on Saturn and Tommy f says there's no mention of it and he's a liar there's a machine down there in Antarctica he found around 2005 and it's true they started to talk about it so he doesn't have the computer design we Believe and he found one on Titan his building and what makes sense to me is the clan was not very big and my husband doesn't know so they probably put one on Titan thinking they could build more and got found out and Tommy filled big huge computers in Antarctica and and has a massive attitude and the max say they found stuff like that so here we are up to date finally and the a****** wasted all his people and all his time screwing around with my husband when he could have been doing something else and now he's doomed and we thank everybody for the help because we need to get this out he was shooting at him three times he's got to get shot at three times every day until the sucker never comes back

Hera

Zues

We need to come down here and fix their wagon right now

Olympus

We have to Freya Thor