#juuust slight ones

[rose-madder-gaze]

[snoopyearss]

I shocked myself writing this 😳

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

drabble!

Geto would definitely be the type to talk you through it. Oh my goodness just imagine you’re riding him and you’re clearly getting tired. Your thighs are burning, you’re panting heavily, and voice growing hoarse from the loud moans. And just as your about to tap out, he’s placing one big hand on your hip, rubbing small circles on it while the other one is rubbing your clit.

“Come on baby, ride my cock like a good girl,” he would purr. And you would moan so loud, only moving faster. Your thighs jiggling from the intense bouncing up and down, the back of them turning a slight red color from the sensation. “O-Oh my f-fucking-“ you can’t even speak he’s so deep inside of you.

“Listen to how good you’re making me feel. Oh fuck baby,” he’d egg you on so much just to motivate you to push your limits juuust a bit more. Every time it was a little bit more than the last, but he says it builds tolerance. “Sugu, it’s- it’s so much I ca- I can’t-“ you whimper, each sentence getting broken up by the rough slamming of your hips up and down. “It’s okay baby, you can take it for me. Right? You can take it like my good girl? Come on baby show me.” This time he’s thrusting up into you to help you both finish. You can’t even make noise now. Your mouth is just open, eyebrows creasing and thighs a quivering mess. By this point the bed is creaking back and forth, hope your downstairs neighbors aren’t home.

“You can do it right baby? Show me how well you can take it and come all over my cock,” that’s all it took for you to slam down one last time and leave a creamy white ring around his cock. Your loud moans and whimpers filled the room as he rapidly rubbed your clit. “That’s it pretty girl, squeeze my cock, there you go baby, yeaaahhh.”

[livingddeadgirlrl]

nate jacobs smut (cw: degradation, creampie, size kink, videoing… yeah)

wc: 2.7k, 2 parts

It was your last finals week of your high school career. you were absolutely drained from the hours of testing and all of the studying you had done. you came back from school, bag slung over your shoulder, trudging to your room. after your long day, all you wanted to do was lay down, but you couldn’t even do that. your brother’s room was right across the hallway from yours, always causing disturbance. your asshole brother was the same grade as you, but the complete opposite. he was a total fucking dipshit. he was om the football team, always drunk as shit, and probably failing all his classes, per usual. he always had his loud ass jock friends over, screaming at the top of their lungs over the most idiotic things. they were always either watching porn on full volume, slamming doors, and stomping as loud as possible as they walked around the house. you were really not in the mood for their antics today, already pissed off from all of your exams. you got to your room and slammed the door shut, letting your brother and his friends know that you were home. tossing your bag onto your ground loudly, you began to quickly slide your jeans off, then pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it onto your bed. you always had cute undergarments, and today you were wearing a cute pink and black lace thong with a black bow on the waistband and strappy sides, and a matching bra that accentuated your pretty tits so perfectly. you were always naturally girly, always looking so perfect, almost like a doll, even when you weren’t trying. you changed into your little lounge dress, pulling it over your head as you stretched your arms up- it was a white babydoll dress with black bows all over and black lace trim. your hair was still slightly curled from your earlier appearance, but it was now looking a bit more disheveled. your lips were still a soft red shade and a little bit glossy, your cheeks a soft rosy shade. you plopped down on your bed face first, your ass up in the air. you could hear the pounding bass coming from music in your brother’s room, and several male voices inside. you rolled your eyes. they kept laughing at full volume, making your blood boil. you were about to snap. “CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP?!” you yelled out at the top of your lungs. only a few moments later, there was a hard pounding on your door. you sighed and hissed out, “what.” then, there it was. the door opened with a slight creak, and your least favorite friend of your brother’s was there. the one who leaked your nudes to the football team last year. the one who continuously slut shamed you in the hallways at school. the one who would always take long and obvious glances at your thighs when your skirt was just a little bit too short. nate jacobs, the star quarterback and prized student of east highland high school, was standing in your doorway. you barely turned your head to take a short glance at him, letting out a small sigh. your positioning on your bed gave him a clear shot of all your precious bits- your cute thong under your dress that covered your slit juuust barely. your legs were up in the air and crossed behind you, with hello kitty socks on your feet.

“sup y/n. long time no see..” he said softly in that stupid cocky tone that bitch always had, leaning on your doorframe with no shirt on. for some reason this guy, along with all of the other football players, had an odd obsession with going shirtless any time they got the opportunity. i mean, not like you were complaining. his body was so perfect to look at. you hated how he made your stomach fill with butterflies and your panties just a little bit damp at the sight of him. ‘what do you want..” you mumbled out. “just coming to check in on my favorite little whore. i see you haven’t changed a bit,” he smirked, letting his glance travel up your legs. “fuck you,” you hissed out. “well you see… that’s why i came here.. to do juuust that,” he said through a soft chuckle, fully entering your room now and pressing the door closed with his bare and muscular back. “yeah fucking right. you know i hate your guts” you retorted. he turned the lock on your door without saying a word and slowly walked over to the foot of your bed, standing right behind your legs. he slid his big hand up the side of your shin, playing with the lace on your hello kitty socks. you tried your best to ignore him, but his touch was just so addictive. he began to slide his hand down your shin, caressing the back of your thigh and giving it a light squeeze. you picked up your phone, scrolling through your instagram feed to show that you were still ignoring him. he let out a low chuckle and decided to take things up a notch. he wasn’t gonna let you ignore him. he got down on his knees at the foot of your bed, his mouth oh so close to your thighs now. he leaned in even closer, placing small kisses all over the insides of your soft and plush thighs, trailing up towards your thong. you let out a small little squeak like sound, unintentionally letting him know that he was getting to you. he slid both of his hands up the back of your thighs and up to your pretty hips. he gave another squeeze, slightly harder this time. he gripped your hips, pulling you up slightly so you were now resting on your knees. his hands were so fucking big, making you look so small compared to him as his grip completely enveloped your hips. he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your thong, beginning to slowly slide it down past your hips, then your thighs, and then your knees, oh so slowly. your cheeks immediately began to flush, still looking at your phone, not wanting him to see your reactions. with absolutely no warning, he pressed his lips to your puffy clit, lapping in between your folds with some intensity. this caused you to jerk forward slightly, not expecting the sudden contact. He chuckled lowly again, pulling away slightly. “if you hate my guts so much, why are you soaking right now, hm?” he asked in a low and seductive tone, his breath hitting your folds lightly. ‘shut up..” you muttered softly, pressing your chin and mouth into your soft pink bedding. “just admit it. you’re a fuckin slut who loves attention,” he replied in a slightly stern tone, brushing his fingertipslightly around your pretty pink and slick pussy. “no, i’m not,” you said into your sheets again. “i bet if i pulled out my phone and taped me fucking your pretty little pussy, you would’nt even fight back. you’d probably just let me have my way with you,” he began pressing his middle finger into your cunt, watching it get sucked in. you let out a tiny little whimper. his fingers were so long and thick, you could only imagine what his cock was like… probably really long… really thick… make you feel really good… oh god. you were getting so turned on, and the way your pussy was clenching around just his one finger was telling him all he needed to know. he slowly pulled his finger out and stood up, leaving you unsatisfied and needy. you didn’t wanna let that show, though, so you kept scrolling on your phone, swapping through apps and doing absolutely nothing. you didn’t hear your door open, so you knew he didn’t leave, but you had no idea what he was doing. (cont in pt 2 :>)

[g-xix]

This might be a strange request but I was watching the new ItalianBach video with Alex, Cam and Arthur and I thought it was really funny and cute that a few times Arthur was like “wait I actually kind of like this.” I was wondering if you could do a little blurb or something with Arthur x Reader where the reader is scratching his back or his scalp or something and basically doing asmr on him without him realizing it’s asmr and teasing him abt the fact he likes it?

Head Scritches | ArthurTV

I normally take YEARS replying to oneshot reqs but this is so cute i litr banged this up in a DAY which isn't too bad... it is quite a short little blurb (great word btw) tho, but i hope you and everyone else reading enjoys nonetheless, anon!

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-just like sorta casually hanging about in Arthur's flat, j chilling n spending time together...

-You're lying across the sofa w ur legs spread across the cushions n Arthur's body on top of yours, cushioned between your legs and on his phone- switching between playing online chess and watching TikToks whilst waiting for his opponent to make the next move

-Your hand just sort of finds itself on his head after a bit, fingers just finding a path through his hair n moving only a little bit...

-"What're you doing?" Arthur mumbles, not moving to get you off, just intrigued with what exactly you were doing whilst he couldn't see you

-"I'm just massaging your head." You hummed, leaning your own head back to relax whilst your fingers threaded through his hair. "Do you want me to stop?"

-"...No, I don't think so." Arthur sounded unsure of himself, bringing a small chuckle from you as you continued your actions inattentively.

-Whilst you were lounging and happily relaxed, Arthur found himself... not agitated, but completely defenceless to how nice it felt. It felt like getting his hair done, but so much gentler and more soothing...

-He felt uncomfortable in how he was sat - he just wanted to lie down and sprawl out - relax all of his limbs and let his head fall limp against you whilst you just ran your hands over his head juuust like that...

-Yet Arthur didn't say a thing in not wanting you to stop what you were doing or think he was odd- or make him explain- or something trivial and unnecessary like that. No, instead he just closed his eyes briefly and savoured that way your fingers ran through his hair, fluffing and messying it. And as Arthur closed his eyes, he only felt more, particularly noticing the way your fingertips seemed to press into the back of his head, right where he had a headache- circling ever so slightly and seeming to chase the achy points away

-It was only when you absent-mindedly drummed your fingers over Arthur's scalp when you noticed Arthur's responses to your touch

-Withdrawing your arm from over your eyes (previously serving as an eyemask for you to rest), you realised that Arthur had literally had a whole-body shiver at what you'd done; drumming your fingers one by one over his scalp

-"Holy shit, sorry, are you okay?" You retracted your hand back from Arthur hastily, though your brows raised in even more surprise as he let out a near whine as you moved back(!) "Arthur...?"

-"Do that again please," He whimpered, the note of desperation on his voice drawing a slight laugh from your voice.

-"What, this?" You drummed each finger over his scalp again with a grin, his neck ticking as he let out a slight groan, drawing a full laugh from your chest, throwing your head back as well. "Is this your equivalent of ASMR?" You teased, seeing a pink flush rise up to Arthur's neck from behind as he stuttered a-

-"M-maaaybe..." In reponse before rushing, "Pleasedon'tstopthough-" which only drew another hearty laugh from you, your fingers reconnecting to Arthur's head nonetheless and messaging over his scalp and running your fingers though his head.

-"Sure I won't," You mumbled in response after a while, smile still on your face. "As long as you're not enjoying it too much..."

-"Too late," Arthur joked in response before hastily grabbing a cushion and pretending to cover his crotch with it with joking heavy breaths.

-A snort left your mouth, grabbing the pillow from besides you to whack him around the back of his head, laughing as you lovingly replied "Shut up and play your chess, neeky", threading your fingers back through your head and going back to sleeping whilst playing with his hair, un-wipeable smile plastered onto your face as you did... <33

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Hang on, j found this whilst scrolling pinterest for a good ATV pic:

THAT'S FUCKING ITALIAN BACH??!?!?!? HE'S HOT?!?!?!?? Istg this new chaos crew squad is acc so leng: ATV, G Clarkey, ItalianBach, Cam, fuckin' even Alex... Bloody hell, absolute sexy demons if i say so myself (as a definite (😬) sexy demon)

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

[dabisbratz]

fiendin’ for that sweet spot — choso x male reader

w.c: 3.2k

WARNING: dirty talk, bondage/restraints, edging, slight feminization, creampie, panty-stuffing, d/s undertones, bottom!male reader, amab aligned, praise, degradation, mocking, established relationship, short aftercare, cmnm (clothed male, naked male), use of the word ‘pussy’

a/n: why did this render me speechless… once again waiting on tumblr to fix the read more command ):

There’s a lot of things preventing you from focusing. For one, the quirk of Choso’s pink lips makes your thoughts linger to his soft kisses and gentle embrace. His lips are always so warm and comforting against your skin, he’s always so tender and gentle when it comes to you. But it’s not just his lips that leave a dizzy daze in your head, that clouds your vision from the walking dream in front of you. There’s his hair, that you love to tug on and braid, rubbing miscellaneous shapes and patterns into his scalp. There’s his eyes, deep and dark, but kind and beautiful. His eye contact lights you on fire, burns you from the inside out.

Then… There’s his hands. Large and well taken care of, fingers wrapped around a silver spoon as he digs into an appetizingly saturated tiramisu. His clipped nails shine in the dimly lit restaurant, leading up to his knuckles that look much better when they’re not swollen and blood soaked, but rather kissed or buried inside you. The tendons in his hand flex and flutter when he twirls the spoon, dipping it into the white, creamy topping that sticks to his lips.

He’s too perfect. Everything you weren’t, with a blood mark decorating his cheeks and a smile brighter than the moonlight outlining the city buildings. If you saw muted hues of gray and blue, he’d make up the specks of magenta in between. You saw the love in his eyes, extraordinarily bright and homely, unconditional and unrelenting. You return it and so, so much more.

You sigh, dreamy and enamored with your boyfriend as you push your cheek into your palm. Choso catches the sound almost immediately, straightening up and nearly smacking his back against the polished wooden booth. His lips curl into a frown, pulling at his decorated cheeks until you’re snapping back to reality.

“What’s wrong?” His eyebrows twitch, but he doesn’t look angry. It’s not like him to remain very expressive facially anyway, but you find a smile threatening to spread across your face. As if he’s discovered the answer himself, he scoops up a generous bite of the sweet and pushes the spoon into your face.

“What? No, it’s nothing, I just— thank you — I’m just thinking,” The dopey smile on your face is telling, even as your eyes focus on the spoon in front of you. It’s way too big a bite for you to chew, and you’re not even interested in the sweet, but the gesture is kind and thoughtful. One hand hovers below the spoon, careful to catch any fallen cream. You almost feel bad for stiffening up at the view of his hands in your face. “There’s something else I’m hungry for.”

Oh. There it is again, that breathy tilt to your voice that you’ve been pulling all night, paired with the lingering touches to his body or the brushing of knees under the table. Your boyfriend clears his throat, letting his hand drop to the table with a fairly loud thud. It’s hard for Choso to remain stoic under your gaze, under your warm hands that rub his skin juuust right, under you as you bounce on his cock like your life depends on it.

“Choso.” Your voice sounds whiny now, as if you’ve given up trying to keep your composure.

He imagines the sound of his name on your tongue. Light and heavy, sweet and savory. He imagines you moaning his name right against the table, his warm hands cupping your cheek as he pushes it into the wood. He imagines spoiling you. Right here, right now.

You’ve always been spoiled. You’re his spoiled boy, constantly showered with gifts and doted on. When he’s not chasing the high of vengeful fights or treating contusions, he’s by your side. Tonight is a great example of that, a lavish dinner at a lavish restaurant where only the most lavish of people attend.

Be patient.” Can’t have everyone in this restaurant knowing you cry like a whore the second you see cock, can we? Electricity shoots through his pants as you whine again, squirming in your leather seat until your shoe is pressing against his crotch and your arms are straight in front of your own, almost as if you’re rutting against them in your chair.

At least the bill had already been left.

You were quite a simple riddle. You’ve always had a few twists and turns, but once Choso’s lips were on yours you were so easy to figure out; so welcoming as if you wanted to be figured out. Choso had you mapped out the best, with every nook and cranny and divot of your body. With every spot that made your eyes roll so prettily into your head, with every spot that made you jolt forward and needy.

You might as well tackle him onto the bed, watching him bounce on the springy mattress with wide eyes. You’re stripping before he can process, pulling your tie over your head and hastily undoing his own, unbuttoning your dress-shirt until it’s discarded somewhere on the floor, and unzipping your increasingly tightening slacks. Choso watches you, his hands now resting on your hips so he can lift you up when it’s time to shimmy out them.

His eyes catch lavender under your fly, then speckles of your warm skin, like it’s not completely covered. He holds you by the back of your thighs once they’re under your buldge, but he can’t help but flip you down into the bed when he realizes what he’s looking at. The air is punched out of your lungs the moment you hit the mattress, arms splayed out angelically while Choso tugs down your pants, and leaves one sleeve stuck at your ankle out of impatience. It makes you feel like a slut. Like you’re easy.

“Holy shit,” He marvels, thumbs tracing the lavender lace pattern that covers your cock and makes you look even prettier. He thought that was impossible. There’s a wet patch that darkens the rest of the underwear, a deeper purple that makes him lick his his lips. And finally, there’s a matching, twinkling plug nestled deep inside you, with a pretty heart-shaped handle that’s perfect for pulling on. His sweet, perfect boy had gone out and got himself panties, decorated his pretty body and even prettier cock, just for him. Plugged himself up, just for him. Because he loves cock— his cock —that much. He wants to fuck you in these. He wants to digest you. “Holy shit.”

“Do you—”

“Yeah,” Is all he says, but you can see his ponytails vigorously bounce as he massages the head of your cock through the underwear. Before your legs can close around his hand, he places the other on your thigh, holds you down into the soft mattress so you can’t escape. Your body feels warm already, igniting under his touch as the excruciatingly soft lace dips into your slit and strokes your cock. You can’t help but start to spread your legs wider, a slutty reaction to a slutty sight, and you feel your face heat up when Choso smiles up at you. “I love them. I love you.”

Maybe you’re in way over your head. Maybe you should’ve never got the damned things, they feel way better on your dick than you’d anticipated, clings too tight, folds just right, rubs against it like heaven. With every squirm the plug shifts inside you, your insides twitch and clench around it but there’s nowhere for it to go, just stuck inside your warm, used hole. You won’t be able to survive the next ten minutes at this rate.

“I love— fuuuck, Iloveyoutoo.” Your eyes flutter closed, just to open back up when Choso’s thick fingers toy with the plug, pushing it deeper inside you through the panties. Your moans are slutty and satisfied, like you’ve been waiting for this all day.

It occurs to him that you’ve been fucking yourself in front of him the whole night, playing with the pretty hole that belongs to him. You’d probably fingered yourself before leaving, got your fingers nice and wet to cum until you get that stupid, fucked-out face you always get after cumming, by yourself. You played with what was his to touch, his to fuck, his to use and leave puffy and sticky and stretched out and swollen. Choso growls.

“My pretty puppy’s been keeping secrets?” He can’t help but feel overprotective and jealous. Jealous of your fingers, which were deep inside you not too long ago. But never as deep as he can get, never as good as his. You just can’t reach the same spots Choso can, you can’t milk the cum out of your cock like he can. You need him to cum just how you like, hard and mind blowing until you can’t form coherent sentences. Overprotective for that very reason, what if you’d gone and hurt yourself trying to make yourself cum like he can? The plug gives you away, twitching violently along with your hole. He frowns, small and tiny as he pulls his hand away from your cock, instead resting it on your corresponding thigh.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” There’s an increasingly rapid shake to your head, though you both know that’s a lie. You want to whine, it’s a gift for our anniversary, you want to grab his hair and bury his face between your cheeks so he can focus on something other than your flustered face. “C’mon, you can do it. Don’t go dumb on me now.”

Your whole body shutters, your hand reaching down to squeeze at your balls to satisfy the ache, but Choso’s swatting your hand away, shaking his head disapprovingly. You almost wilt under his gaze, but the aching is just too much, so you try again. Before you know it he’s tying your hands above your head with— when did he take that off? — his tie and your own to hold together both your wrists and the area where your legs bend.

You’re exposed on your back. legs spread and high against your shoulders. The stretch is delicious, if you weren’t wearing those damned panties you’d be completely exposed, your hole stretched out and plugged, your cock peeking out from the band if the lace. You moan in protest, but it comes out more wonton and slutty as he starts to pump your cock.

“Just couldn’t wait, always so needy. So slutty, so impatient,” He’s focused now, pumping you with the lace separating your skin. The material stretches with every stroke, a wet sound bouncing off the walls as your thighs tremble and your body writhes against the restraints. “A brat, too.”

His disregard for your response makes your cock jump, his grip tightening as the panties shift with the tightening of your balls. You’re close. He watches your face, watches your eyebrows knit together until you’re looking at him like a puppy, whining high and loud in your throat until you’re trembling, a thin layer of sweat making your skin— and especially your nipples— glow. He groans, watching precum pool on the panties until your moans suddenly stop, a silent scream about to leave your mouth as he strokes you closer, and closer, and closer—

Nothing. The pleasure leaves just as fast as it arrives, your hips bucking uncomfortably under your boyfriend's weight. Tears prickle your eyes, and you find yourself shaking your head in protest before he can even speak, “I know, baby, I know. It hurts, you just wanna cum so bad.”

His mocking could make you cum alone, but the feeling of his lower half pressing the plug into your prostate is driving you crazy, rubbing that bundle of nerves and over and over, your eyes roll back and you drool as you pant.

“Nuh-uh, no, honey,” His grip around the base of your cock is impossibly tight, basically strangling it, as he watches your balls contract in an attempt to cum. You’re such a slut, it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. A few nice words here, a few tugs and licks there, and you’re crying for more. “Take what I give you, be my good boy. I know you can, know you will.”

You’re a good boy. A very good one at that, and you find yourself echoing his words with less coherency than most, nodding with a gasp as he takes your cock in hand again and presses the plug further into you. But it’s too good, Choso knows what he’s doing, he always does. He knows all your buttons, how to play with you just right. It’s excruciating, trying to hold onto your orgasm just for him. His fingertips tap the heart shaped handle when you moan particularly pornographic, like he’s coaxing a load out of you.

“Look how ready you are for me. Patience is a virtue, you know.”

Evil bastard.

So you suck it up, squealing when he shoves the panties to the side and tucks it underneath your cock, prods at the plug with his tongue and buries his face between your thighs until his only truly distinct feature is his blood mark. It’s a true, honest shame you can’t grab his hair now, but you don’t think you would’ve been able to hold on even without the restraints. Your begging is jumbled, more breathy ‘mhmmm’s than pleas, but it’s good enough for you.

“Choso— Choso, fuck, fuck me, please. Mhmmm, wan’ you inside. G’v’it t’me, fuck your cum ‘nto me!” Tears stream down your pretty face when he touches your sensitive dick without the confines of the lace, precum now pooling on your lower abdomen and squelching with each speedy stroke. Your toes curl, thighs trashing against the fabric until you’re cumming, clenching around Choso’s tongue and the pretty plug keeping you full. You can’t stop spurting, not when he starts alternating between the plug and his tongue, both setting punishing pressure against your prostate.

“Pretty baby,” The plug is out, and your hole looks lonely. It’s puffy and swollen, shining with spit and lube as it clenches around nothing. Stretched out like it’s been used, it takes fingers like it’s natural, sucks in Choso’s digits and flutters around them in thanks. Despite preaching patience and the joy of delayed gratification, he’s not sure he can wait anymore. So inviting, so needy. For his cock and his cock only, who is he to deny that? “Gonna let me breed you? Gotta watch this pussy cum on my cock while I fill you up, let me have it, honey. Please?”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” You don’t hesitate, not once, tilting your hips up as he slaps his cock against your rim a few times. You’re not sure when he took the time to free himself from his slacks, but you don’t care. A string of his precum keeps you together, falling onto your hole as he sighs in content. You can barely contain a long whine as he pushes inside, inch by inch disappearing inside you and pressing straight into your prostate as the curve of his cock punches air out your lungs. Your hands fight against his tie, curling up the fabric as you ball them into fists and moan when he bottoms out, his balls slapping against you. “Please?”

He fucks you like he’s desperate, large hands digging into hit thighs as he ruts his hips with a rushed, sloppy pace. There’s still so much lube nestled inside your warm walls, pulling him in as he slides in and out, loud and sticky as he pounds himself into you. He chases the warmth, the feeling of your gummy hole struggling to keep him where he belongs— deep inside you. You can feel his cock twitch inside you, hard and throbbing and leaking, getting you ready for the loads he plans to fuck into you. Choso’s handsome face is all the more expressive, his lips parted as he pants and groans with each thrust, hurriedly untying your hands and setting you free to lace his fingers with your own.

His eyes close briefly, as if he’s trying to focus on not cumming, trying not to think of what it’d look like to see his cream oozing out your insides.

But it’s hard not to, especially when his pretty thing is crying on his cock, punching out loud but tiny ‘uh-huh!’s with each thrust as drool slides down his chin, bouncing happily without a single thought in his head. When his pretty boy clenches around his cock, pretty decorated thighs open like a whore and stained in his own cum. He feels himself getting closer, roughening up his pace until you can’t breathe, squeezing his hand impossibly tight while he fucks you like his life depends on it.

“Oh, fuck, Jesus Christ. There you go, baby. Ask me for it, ask me to cum in this pretty boy pussy,” His deep voice makes you soar, jumbled moans and sentences leaving your lips as Choso frees his hand for only a moment, to rip away the lacey panties that somewhat obstruct his vision from your used hole. Your gasp is soft, but powerful enough to egg him on. “S’hole’s so needy, all mine. My job to take care of, t’fuck, t’finger and— oh, God, use like a toy.”

“Don’t— I don’t, Choso, don’t think I—” Can hold on much longer, you want to say, but warmth blooming in your stomach renders you speechless, the now ruined panties sliding under your ass and bunching up beneath your backside.

“I know, baby. You don’t think,” He groans, cock aching as he delivers a few more hard and deep strokes, eyes clenching closed at the sound of your hole sucking him back in with vigor. He can’t help himself, pumping your cock to match his thrusts until he’s shouting inside you, warm and sticky and thick. You can’t handle the sight of him crumbling inside you, hips rocking desperately as he fucks the cum deeper. “Don’t need to. Not with a hole like this.”

That’s it for you, the final blow, game over. You’re cumming before you can correct him, spraying hard onto your stomach and making your hole achy. Choso helps you ride the wave, pumping your sensitive cock until you weakly push his hands away, rocking back against his dick until you feel it soften inside you. “Good boy, my good boy. Need one more thing from you.”

His smile is small and genuine, and despite the sleepiness washing over you from such an intense orgasm, you lull your head to the side, watching him pull the lavender lingerie (more like a piece of fabric, now) out from under you. He glances at your face, gauging a reaction from you as he slowly stuffs your hole with it, watching it convulse with sensitivity. He hushes your whines with a kiss, melting against you.

He holds you for a minute, gives your cheek a soft kiss, and wipes away the cum on your tummy with your discarded shirt before it can cool and harden uncomfortably on your skin.

[luckybunny555]

.˚◦⟡ Outta The Clouds✦.·୭ ˚○◦˚.

While hanging out with Gwen, you notice a slight change in her mood, so you try to cheer her up. She ends up confessing her feelings for you

🕷 Gwen Stacy x Spider!Reader 🕷

a/n: I got this idea when I discovered this song(title) and it was just so cute I had to write it! Reader's gender neutral, this is just pure fluff. okay, I realized there's actually a bit of angst too I guess, but juuust a little bit.

Oh, and another note, english isn't my first language so I was a bit unsure about a few words and terms I used(like "stunt" and "splutter" and "peck"), so please lmk if there's anything incorrect or other words that would fit better! Thank you :)

The sun was starting to hide behind the tall buildings of New York, turning the sky pink and lilac, and you and Gwen had been swinging through your city for a while now. She'd been helping you keep an eye out for any criminals or civilians who needed help, but mostly, she was just distracting you with her jokes and new "spider-stunts" she had learned. Not that you minded, though - neither of your spider-senses had warned you of any danger, so you had time to watch her and giggle at her little performances(clearly an attempt to catch your attention and impress you, but neither of you would admit it out loud). And to be honest, how could you mind it, when she was just so pretty and charming when showing off her new tricks, and how her experience as a dancer gave her a certain gracefulness, especially when she would land on some random roof? Safe to say, she had your attention all for herself.

Eventually, you two took a break, finding a nice spot on a tall building, sitting on the ledge to catch your breath and enjoy the view. Taking off your masks, you share a glace that makes both of you let out a chuckle. You return your attention to the setting sun, admiring its beauty. For a few moments, the two of you sit in silence, seeming peaceful and relaxed as you appreciated the scenery in front of you. Until you realize a slight change in Gwen's expression - head low, eyes focused on her hands, the corners of her lips almost curling down. You cross your legs, shifting slightly closer to her, your eyes sofly scanning her face.

"What's bothering you, pretty girl?" Your head tilts to the side as you offer her a gentle smile, earning from her a small chuckle. She looks at you for a moment, then turns her gaze back to her hands, fiddling with the fabric of her mask.

"Just... thinking about my dad," She responds quietly, letting out a sigh. You knew about what she was going through, and every time you were reminded of it, your heart would sink in your chest. Her words made you want to wrap your arms tightly around her and never let go, to protect her from everything else in the world, to create the most peaceful and safe world inside yourself just for her to live in. But instead, you simply placed your hand over hers, slowing down her nervous movements, making her turn her head to look at you.

You didn't really know what to do about it. If you could, you would solve all of her problems with a magic wand just so you could see her truly happy again. You'd do anything for her. But right now, the best you could do was cheer her up, get her mind off of her troubles and remind her that she was loved by many other people - but mostly, by you.

You reached for your phone, looking for a specific song from your playlist. "Y'know, I'm a firm believer that some songs offer more comfort than normal words can," You tell her, one hand still holding hers as the other holds your phone, your eyes fixed on it. When you find it, you put it on, turning up the volume and placing your phone in the small gap between you two, giving her a sweet, reassuring smile.

As the song starts, you start to sway your head and body to the rythm, the soft and uplifting energy taking over you. Occasionally, you'd sing along to some of the lyrics, either some "message" you wanted to emphasize, since you couldn't word them exactly yourself, or just some verse you had memorized. You took her hand, causing her to sway with you, earning a subtle chuckle from her as she shook her head, amused by your cheerful energy.

The way you smiled and sang along to the song got her stuck in a trance, unable to take her eyes off of you. It even brought a soft smile to her face. She was mesmerized by the way you moved so freely, and how careless and relaxed you seemed to be, even though she was watching. Truth is, sometimes your heart would skip a beat when you noticed her gaze on you, or you'd feel your cheeks heating up. But you tried to brush it off, because your goal was to lighten up her mood, and by the way her smile was growing wider, and how you'd occasionally hear a laugh from her, it seemed you were succeeding. So you kept swaying, occasionally using your intertwined hands as a fake microphone, looking at her while your singing mixed with giggles.

When the song ended, you exchanged a glance, causing you both to laugh. It warmed your heart to see her like that, genuine laughter escaping from her lips as she shut her eyes closed, shaking her head again. When both of you were able to quiet your laughter, your eyes met again, and time seemed to slow down as you observed how the golden light from the sunset illuminated her face. For a quick moment, that seemed to last longer than it did, you noticed the softness of her features, the color of her eyes, her freckles... You ended up forgetting that she was looking at you too.

"Can I tell you something?" She said, finally breaking the silence, snapping you out of your own trance. Her tone was soft and gentle, so you didn't notice the hesitance in her voice, and you couldn't tell how fast her heart was beating when she finally got the courage to speak. You nod, with your attention focused on her and not on the butterflies that seemed to appear in your stomach. "I feel like there's a sun inside my heart... whenever I'm with you."

Her words make your heart skip a beat, taken by surprise. You let out a nervous chuckle, averting her gaze for a moment as you try to soothe your own quick heartbeats, and failing at that. You bring one of your knees up, close to your chest, and rest your head on top of it, taking a deep breath as you look at her. "Does it feel like it's burning?" You joke, trying to cope with your nervousness. But you could feel your cheeks burning, and it wasn't from the warm sunlight that hit your skin.

She shakes her head, chuckling. "Feels more like a blanket," she tells you, and you could swear the way her eyes reflect the setting sun is the prettiest thing you've ever seen. "You make me comfortable," she adds, "and I find myself looking for any opportunity to spend time with you, because you're so bright and sweet, that I just want to..." she doesn't finish her sentence, letting out a sigh as she seems to think about her next words.

Your eyes are fixed on her, studying carefully her expression, and waiting expectantly for her to speak again. You could tell where this was going, and the sensation of butterflies kept growing, making you eager to hear what she would say next. The whole world seemed to fade away in this moment, the girl beside you seemed more interesting and beautiful than anything else.

"I want to be with you, like, all the time," she finally declared, chuckling nervously while turning her gaze to you, looking for your reaction as she tried to figure out what you were feeling or thinking. "I hope you get what I mean, I'm not really sure how to put this into words," she spluttered, unsure about your feelings for her.

"Mm-hm," you nod with a subtle smile, unable to form a coherent sentence with your heart pounding in your chest and your mind emptying with each second that you stare at her. Everything around you seemed to melt like ice-cream, and so did your heart.

She turns her head to face you, your eyes meeting again, and at this point, you can't ignore your butterflies anymore. With a bit of hesitancy, she slowly leans closer to you, moving her gaze from your eyes to your lips as she waited for a hint of your consent. When you finally leaned closer, mirroring her, she connected your lips and hers. She brought her hand to your cheek as she gave you another peck on your lips, gently holding your face. You weren't sure if this moment lasted forever or just a second, but you were simply glad for experiencing it.

The both of you slightly pull away, breaking the kiss with a soft smile on your faces, but you keep your eyes closed for a second longer. When your eyes meet again, you let out a giggle, appreciating the moment - and grateful for her confession. You shift your body closer to hers, laying your head on her shoulder to watch the almost hidden sun. You could still feel the warmth on your cheeks when she placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head before resting her head on yours, breaths slowing down and matching your rhythm.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. For now, it certainly was, because she could feel you right next to her, and that was enough to spark some hope in her heart.

[oh-dameron]

Lan Xichen and Qin Su had quite a bit in common when it came to Jin Guangyao:

- First met JGY when they were in peril and he came to the rescue,

- Notably kind, beautiful, and good-natured,

- Did not place value on his origin or look down on him for his mother's profession,

- Were vocal in their support of him socially.

Which makes me think that we were robbed of maybe the greatest potential JGY partnership: Wen Ning.

Wen Ning: so ride-or-die that actually dying did not stop him from continuing to be ride-or-die. Wen Ning, presumably in quite the tenuous situation in Nightless City after the Jiang heir disappeared under suspicious circumstances, right when Meng Yao was working is way into Wen Ruohan's inner circle. Wen Ning, the sweetest cinnamon roll.

Slight canon divergence where Wen Qing missed one single opportunity to send Wen Ning out of Nightless City for a while, Wen Ning gets into juuust enough trouble, Meng Yao has the keys to the cell... one flash of Wen Ning's bambi eyes and he would have been a goner.

[sanhwaism]

MEET UP FOR A COFFEE AND A SMILE | C.S

pairing ⟡ bf .ᐟ choi san x gn .ᐟ reader

synopsis ⟡ feeling overwhelmed because of stressful events and built up emotions, your thoughtful boyfriend wants to melt away all of your problems in his own, sweet way.

genre ⟡ fluff, romance, established relationship

warnings ⟡ mentions of dealing with anxiety attack, pet names, juuust a sickening amount of fluff because san is just too cute to handle and i just wanna eat him

wc ⟡ 2.1k

author's note ⟡ my first ever written scenario wooo !! got suddenly struck by a spark of inspiration while listening to one day at a time, that song feels like the warmest hug :,) hope you'll enjoy it!!

letting out a loud sigh, you push the entry's door closed with your hip, too focused on untying your shoelace to bother. today felt like a fever dream, emphasis on 'fever', because you feel like you're dealing with one. plus a terrible, terrible headache, the main cause of your deep frowning.

a groan escapes your lips soon as you straighten your back, the sudden movement making you dizzy. you close your eyes and stay still for a brief moment, your mind being kind enough to remind you of the anxiety attack you dealt with today.

besides your part time job that has been stressing you a lot lately, the cherry on top is the finals season. you had to split yourself in half so you could manage your time for both studying and working. you told yourself that you can do it, your san also has been providing you with his encouraging words, love and attention.

yet today felt like you couldn't bear that struggle anymore, that insufferable weight on your shoulders, which had you locked in your job's place bathroom. you didn't call san. no, you didn't want to worry him, especially knowing he has a busy schedule today.

after a few 'you're fine' and 'it's okay' whispered to yourself and trying to regulate your quick breathing and heart palpitations while feeling fatigued and uneasy, it seemed that you calmed down a bit. but your whole body has been feeling weak the rest of the evening. fortunately, you're home now. away from your job. and you only have one more exam left.

"everything is going to be alright by the end of all of this, jagi, i promise you this. you're doing great. you have me, i got you."

his healing words echo in your ears like sweet honey and you feel the corners of your lips rise and your body slowly relax after you threw yourself on the couch with a loud thump. as if he is connected to you and what's going on inside your mind, you hear your phone ring. you can't help but let out a soft chuckle as you answer the call.

"how do you manage to always do it, sannie?" you sigh, closing your eyes in content.

you hear some fidgeting and a car passing by, signs that he just ended his rehearsals, then his usual, sweet tone but with a tint of worry in his voice.

"baby? do what? are you okay?" you swear you can see his concerned expression just from the way he asked you those questions.

"i'm... yeah. i mean, i feel better now, that's what matters," you mutter, absently playing with the hem of your shirt.

a slight pause before san speaks again, this time clearly distraught. "oh, no, what happened aegiya? want me to come over?"

his cute way of calling you baby makes your heart flutter. you instantly shake your head in denial even if he can't see it.

"no, love, it's late and you probably just finished the dancing practice. that and also the fact that i barely have the energy to talk or exist... i'm so tired, sannie." your drowsy voice made san pout. his chest was suddenly feeling heavy and all he wanted to do was to offer a safe space for you to let everything out. to have his arms tightly wrapped around you, to pamper your face with his affectionate kisses. to have your head laying on his shoulder or chest just the way you like it, because his warmth and presence feel like home to you.

but he despises pushing your boundaries. even if he believes the best thing to do right now is being next to you, it does not match with your needs at the moment. and he will always listen to you over his distressed state and his anxious overthinking. what is truly important to both of you is, at the end of the day, to find each other's tender embrace, to be ready to face the worst of this world together.

with a low exhale, san gets inside the car, in the backseat while waiting for mingi.

"i know, angel, i know you are," his comforting voice and words brought tears to your eyes. "okay, i will let you rest. we don't have to talk about this now. but can you promise me one thing? one small, veeery tiny thing?"

you hum, already half asleep on the couch, still dressed in work clothes.

"allow me to be your anchor tomorrow morning. it's finally the weekend, i can come by your place and help you relax, even just a bit. this way we both can rest tonight and start tomorrow fresh."

oh, that's a bold lie. he will definitely not sleep at all because of how worried he is for you. absolutely not. no matter how tight he will hug the plushie you bought him a few months ago, imagining that it's you he's cuddling. but that's a problem for future san.

"mm, of course baby. thank you... for being so understanding," you let out a small yawn. "please rest, yeah?"

"i love you."

"i love you."

both of you speak in the same time and can't help but giggle together, san feeling rather shy at the other end of the call. after a few seconds, he starts humming for you, his feathery singing voice lulling you to sleep. he rests his cheek in his palm while looking at the dark sky through the car's window. a few stars are visible, shining in a way that comforts him. because he is relieved you are at least safe and sound at home and under the same sky as him. and while attentively listening to your steady breathing, he knows everything will be okay. he will always reassure you of that.

the early morning finds you in a deep, peaceful slumber. lucky for you because you didn't have to move, san had a copy of your apartment's keys and used them to get inside as quietly as possible. your catlike curled up position made him close his eyes shut in an almost failed attempt to control his squeal because of how adorable you look. taking off his hood and not leaving you out of his sight, he silently rests himself on the end support of the couch.

you softly huff and open your eyes. a familiar, gentle touch on your forehead makes you shift positions, turning your body towards your lover, arms clinging onto him like you haven't seen him in ages. you hear san's endearing chuckle as your head finds his lap, your cheek nuzzling against the soft material of his sweatpants.

"good morning, jagi." he whispers, leaning over so he can offer you a tender kiss on your temple.

"hi, 'morning," you purr, voice hoarse because you just woke up. "what time is it?"

you manage to move closer to him, hugging his waist and san felt like melting on the spot, right there and then. you are indeed very dangerous for his heart, yet he never wants you to stop causing him so many palpitations.

"it's still early, don't worry. i just couldn't bear leaving you alone anymore," he admits with his well known pout, which causes your lips to curl up into a lazy smile. as much as you love how clingy san is, you appreciate that he offered you the space you needed last night. you knew he wanted to desperately rush here, but he controlled himself. and that makes you forever grateful for his caring nature, putting you above everything.

"thanks for last night, really," you murmur, face resting against the pocket of his hoodie.

"shh, of course. it's the least i could do for you. i'll always try my best to be there when you need me. how are you feeling? and be honest, don't lie to me jagiya," he gently scolds you, knowing you tend to pretend that everything is fine in order not to bother him with your problems. but you promised to each other to try being more open about this, both you and san valuing communication the most.

"i really, really needed this sleep," you choose to tell him about yesterday's happening. "i had an anxiety attack at work, things just got too much for me to handle."

san looks down at you and hums, nodding in an understanding manner as his hand caresses the top of your head. his first, impulsive reaction would be to get all upset and to question you about your lack of calls regarding him, but how was that supposed to help you? the least thing he wants is to make you feel bad or invalidate your feelings. san is more than sure you are capable of handling yourself, you have shown him countless of times how strong and admirable you are. he looks up to you, always. but it's normal to feel helpless sometimes, and he wants to be your comforting mountain, for you to rely on him, to help you see the light at the end of the tunnel when darkness seems to take over. seeing you without that sparkle in your eyes crushes him, aches him more than any physical pain can.

"i'm relieved you're feeling better now. i am so, so proud of you for calming yourself down," it's all he softly says and cuddles you closer in his strong arms. while rocking both of you from left to right, he tells you about his morning plans, which includes you. "i was thinking of bringing back that pretty smile of yours that i aaaabsolutely adore with a cup of coffee, what do you say, hm? we can go get some breakfast as well. then we can spend the rest of the day however you want. how's that sound?"

"very, very nice," you reply, smiling at the thought of enjoying san's presence and spending time with him for a whole day.

"ah, perfect then," he nods happily, patting your hip. "when was the last time you ate?"

you tuck your lips. the sudden silence makes san dramatically gasp, still waiting for a response.

you exhale, trying to remember. "yesterday...? yesterday at lunch." you see him with the corner of your eye starting to shake his head, all sulky.

"no, no, my dearest right here needs to eat," he says and immediately begins to cover your face with his soft kisses, receiving a lot of giggles from you. his warm, minty breath tickles your cheeks and makes you squirm in his hug, trying to escape from his pampering but secretly enjoying it. his dimpled smile softens you, and you find yourself getting up with a sudden urge to kiss him.

with your hands gently cupping his face, you lean forward and press your lips against his, the unforeseen action causing san's eyes to widen before allowing himself to get weak under your loving touch. his arms tighten around your waist as he shyly kisses you back, suppressing a lot of happy giggles while smiling in between the kisses.

"i brought," peck "you," peck "one of my hoodies," one last final peck from you and this time san lets out the cutest laugh, his eyes closing and turning into that crescent moon shapes you love to see. "you're so cute, jagi."

"i think we both know who is the cuter one here," you confidently say, not holding yourself back from kissing the tip of his nose. he is quick to reciprocate your affection, copying your gesture which made your nose scrunch and his heart flip.

"mhm, you're right, it's you!" he gives you a charming wink then gets up from the couch when he senses that you are about to contradict him. gazing at you from this angle, with your messy bed hair, clearly not in your most comfortable clothing, eyes still a bit drowsy but with that peaceful, small smile on your lips, makes everything worth fighting for. san has so much love for you and will never get tired of showering you in it, because you deserve it.

noticing a cardboard box on your kitchen counter with two cups of coffee in it, your hopeful question pulls him out of the trance he found himself into. "you got the coffee already?"

your lover offers you a compassionate smile as he nods his head. "your favorite."

{💌ྀི} masterlist

[diodellet]

walking lie detector (platonic hcs ft. the angels)

Summary: "It's no use trying to lie to an angel, we see right through it." (Luke, Ruri Tunes 8-4). This is what lying to the angels looks like and how it makes them feel. content warnings: -the relationship depicted for all three angels in this set of hcs is platonic -implied threats of physical violence towards you, the reader. word count: 1.08k words

Luke

When you lie to him, his face scrunches up immediately. Like he tasted something sour or smelled something bad.

Insert 🎶Why the fuck you lyin’, Why you always lyin’🎶 Kidz Bop Ver. here

Which causes two reactions in you: 1) it makes your heart squeeze from how adorable it makes him look and 2) it makes your stomach sink in guilt

Because he was the first one who told you that lying to an angel is pointless.

To Luke, hearing you lie feels like a sunny day suddenly becoming overcast. It feels like unfurling a piece of fabric and immediately spotting a dark stain on it. Either the fact that he’s a young angel or the fact that he used to work directly under Michael could be the reason why his lie detector senses are so strong.

More than that, it feels sort of like tinnitus, a ringing in his ears that tells him what you were saying was wrong. 

Not that it physically hurts, but for an angel as transparent as Luke, his reaction to the sensation would immediately show on his face.

No matter who’s around, he’ll immediately call you out.

If you double down on your fib, he’ll get annoyed and tell you off (🎶Hmmm oh my god, Stop fuckin lyin’!🎶)

To the others (especially the demon brothers), it’s kind of funny seeing you being lectured by a young angel.

(But what really hurts is afterwards, when he sulks and ignores you for lying to him. Or worse, when he talks to a third person in the room to pass messages to you even if you’re right there.)

“Solomon, could you ask them to pass me the TV remote?” “Simeon, will you tell them that we’ll be dismissed late tomorrow?”

—and so on, all while sending huffy glances in your direction. (No! He doesn’t feel guilty about getting angry, he’s waiting for you to apologize and own up to your mistake.)

If you backtrack and admit the truth (the correct decision), he’ll still admonish you for still lying in the first place but he’ll bounce back to his usual excitable self.

Raphael

His face doesn’t show it, but he knows.

(If he had his wings out, it’s a whole different story. They’re the best mood/reaction guide.)

(Correction: If you are a soul brave enough to stare at Raphael’s resting bitch face while lying to him, you can see his brows furrow juuust a teensy bit more than usual.)

Lying is futile. Give it up, you amateur fibber.

He’s just like Luke lmao, #2 in Immediately Calling You Out™️

But the interesting part for Raphael is that the sensation depends on the degree of the lie you told.

If it’s a little white lie or if you’re gently skirting around the subject, then it feels like a faint shiver down his back. Similar to the slight chill from a nighttime breeze, the brief moment before you get static shock. It is a slightly bothersome sensation, but one that isn’t a complete hindrance.

“Why did you say that? You’re completely free for the entire weekend.” “Hm? Then just say that you want to rest at home, it’s not that difficult.”

(Being honest and dealing with the consequences is fucking hard, Raphael!)

However, if it’s an outright denial of the truth, then it feels like a hollow pang in his chest. It’s similar to the scent of ozone right before lightning strikes.

Except there’s no lightning, just his nerves standing on edge, that moment of complete vigilance stretching on and on until Raphael knows for sure that he’s facing the complete truth.

And Raphael will get the truth out of you.

Either by pestering you repeatedly or threatening you, you don’t get to choose. The correct answer was that you shouldn’t have lied to Michael’s errand boy in the first place.

Not that he’ll run you through with a spear, he’s working to fix his use of violence as a crutch.

It’s just that divine beings as a whole have either remained pitifully gullible or developed unhealthy coping methods in response to being taken advantage of.

And Raphael refuses to have the wool pulled over his eyes again.

Simeon

Maybe it’s because he’s been around Lucifer and the other demons for longer, but he’s pretty unbothered at being lied to.

Don’t worry, he won’t call you out for it. A part of him is aware that you don’t have to bare all your intentions, and additionally, different factors can affect how much you’d want to share with him. It’s as simple as that.

(But he will take note and remember this for later. And it’s only fair that he uses his own methods in revealing the truth, is it not?)

Just like Raphael, he’s a pro at hiding the fact that he knows.

He could just go, “Oh, okay!” and pair it with an innocent smile. And if you’re easily affected by your guilty conscience like me, that simple acceptance is enough to push you into admitting the truth.

(And oh how he loves catching you red-handed.)

“So, would you mind telling me why you were at Madam Devian’s with Beelzebub? I seem to recall that you had remedial lessons.” “Oh, I won’t tell Lucifer, I can imagine how that would turn out. Just… try not to hide that from me next time, alright?”

Also, depending on how big of a lie you’re telling him, the sensations also differ for Simeon.

White lies feel ticklish, that’s why they’re so amusing to Simeon. That’s why his first reaction is to fucking smile in the face of a lie. Like, he knows Luke told you that angels can see through dishonesty but you’re still trying and it’s so endearing.

Sidenote: for some reason, Simeon tends to feel them along his upper arms and shoulder area. 

More serious falsehoods feel worse. Sort of like a hot itch under his skin. Something vile and gross bubbling under the surface. Something threatening to claw itself out.

But he could count the number of times that has happened to him on one hand and he plans on keeping it that way.

All in all, the occasional white lie to Simeon isn’t a big deal so long as the truth eventually comes out. He trusts you, after all.

If anyone would have told him how horrible it was to lie to a loved one, it still wouldn’t be enough to prepare him for the burden of hiding his sins.

A/N: I'd first like to thank @jessamine-rose for betaing this short spontaneous draft😭thanks girl ur dabest betareader😭as someone who's too weak to progress through the main story of obey me and as someone who knows 0% of raphael's charac litrally everyth i know is from ms. maam jessamine, i wasn't able to do my usual amount of research. but as long as the writing's bearable enough to read then thats good enough for me ig huhuhuu in other news, im thinking of writing a 2nd part to this but in a romantic💕💕 context with simeon and raphael (because OF COURSE my brain would have taken this revelation in That™️ direction) but it won't be posted any time soon, i only have scraps of a scene in mind so far, soo ig this won't be the end-end of me milking this wonderful angel lorebit

[eldritch-spouse]

What happens to the seasonal ice cream people when the season is over, do they just get rid of them?? Poor jolly 😭

Sometimes, yes, when there's an excess of a certain type of ice cream monster or when one of them is damaged beyond treatment- They're melted away. If it makes you feel better, the most they'll experience is slight discomfort.

However, for the sake of saving money and sparing himself the trouble of "educating" new slimecream monsters, Berle will simply put the seasonal flavors in a sort of stasis, in the giant backdoors fridge.

This is done via drastically reducing the size of the seasonal flavor, then storing them in special a container where they're kept at juuust the right temperature to sort of hibernate. Of course, if anything happens to that container then the monster inside them is probably going to perish, but granted everything goes well, they'll be gradually awakened for the next season.

There's no guarantee that the next Jolly you meet is the one you had last Christmas, and this is partially why Berle sometimes advocates people don't get too attached to the flavors.

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Midnight Surf ☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: m a t u r e • 4 9 2 3  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 07.04.2024    🌧 navigation  • s u m m a r y: you go out for a midnight meet-up with your friend marshall lee. a follow up and continuation of "strings"- can be read alone but makes more sense after you read "strings."

The forest again.

Bathed in unnatural candy hues of the night, the foliage didn't dare rustle as you waded through it carefully. You walked and walked, greeted by many off-putting but harmless creatures, until you stopped at a grassy hill overlooking a familiar landscape.

  You sat down on the checkered white and red cloth sprawling across the ground. You looked around. He appeared slowly. From completely invisible to a floating, but very real, wraith. 

  "Hey, dude, what took you so long?" Marshall floated down, almost sitting but still floating above the ground like a mysterious fog. 

  "Walking. I don't have flying privileges." You smiled up at him, crossing your legs. His expression changed as it dawned on him, but he didn't look any less mischievous or smug. 

  "What do you want to do today? Er, tonight?" You corrected yourself awkwardly as you shifted in your seat. He sat down on the cloth, his long legs outstretched beyond its edge. His band shirt- cropped by him and a pair of scissors, accessories to the crime-  shifted over his shoulder. You weren't even looking down there, you were fixated on his face. 

  Instead of a response he dug through his deceptively flat pockets. He pulled out a pack of- cigarettes? You squinted. You had seen those before, one of the first times you hung out. And by his own words, they weren't tobacco.

  "Are you into this kind of stuff?" He asked as he lowered his arm, quirking a brow. You piped up. 

  "Yes. If you are," You said, a little too fast and a little too eager. Not even a little, a lot. He smiled, amused. 

  "Oh? Didn't pin you as the type." He opened the box.

"You don't know a lot of things about me," You replied cryptically, laughing as you looked away. 

  He lit the cigarette with the lighter he carried around at all times. Once he lit several cotton candy trees with it on Prince Day. That didn't go over well. The trees filed a restraining order against him.

  Marshall brought the cigarette to his lips and puffed a cloud of glitter. You suppressed a cough, gaze focused down. He passed you the thing and you took it hesitantly, bringing it to your lips. You paused. Your hands shook and your chest tightened, the pythons in your lungs strangling you from inside. 

  The cigarette had grooves in it from his nails. There was a slight scuff in the paper and you could see where his teeth grazed the pink filter. 

  You heard your name said softly. 

  You glanced up at him as your shoulders tensed upwards and your brows slumped downwards.

  "You okay?" Marshall leaned down to be on your eye level but kept his distance. His hands were close to your knees. You lowered the cigarette.

  "I have got to admit something." You frowned. "I'm sober. I don't do drugs, smoke, drink... anymore." 

  You waited for some kind of disappointment from him, telling you you were lame. You hadn't thought about this. When you saw him in Fionna's house that evening, you weren't sober yet, and you could've done it then- but now- you couldn't bring yourself to fake it, or to break your clean streak. 

  The air around you felt empty and cooler, his gaze like a sweater of hay. 

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Instead of disappointed, he looked concerned. You thought about the answer. Your hands clenched around nothing as Marshall took the cigarette away from you. 

  You felt grass poke into your legs. 

  "Well, I... don't know. I guess it didn't feel important enough until now." 

  "It is important. I'm proud of you. And I'll keep these away from you, by smoking them all myself," He said with an underlying light tone, juuust as you thought he was getting serious. His attitude put you at ease. 

  You shrugged, shoulders finally relaxing. You laughed. 

  "Go ahead. I'm not gonna stop you." 

  "The effects wear off quickly anyway.”

  He took a drag and his fangs grazed the paper. His eyes shifted over to the horizon.

  You reclined. With the newfound silence, your mind began drifting instantly, thoughts overthinking and brain overflowing with self-doubt. You felt stupid and tiny in his presence at the moment, even though you hadn’t previously. It wasn’t his fault- it was all your brain. Maybe you should’ve told him you were sober before you met up. You sighed.

  “How’s guitar been going?” He asked without looking at you. You pursed your lips. “Good. It’s been good. Learning a lot. Practicing. My fingers are shredded.”

  Your fingers were streaked with marks of steel strings, skin toughened. You wondered if he had the same. You imagined holding his hand, and- you shook your head, shaking away the thought like an etch a sketch.

  Marshall leaned over. You froze as he glanced at your hand. You tensed up instinctively. His eyes flicked up to yours and he leaned back momentarily, leaving as fast as he came (LOL). You exhaled shakily.

  “Welcome to the club. This is your life now,” He huffed out glittering smoke. “If you stop it’ll be gnarly. Keep practicing.” A smug smile adorned his face and his ears tilted up. Your brows raised.

  “I’ve also been practicing synth,” You mentioned with forced casualty. Sharing things about yourself either came out of your mouth randomly and with no prior thought or had to be pried from you by your own hand, no matter how weird it felt.

  “Synth?” Marshall raised a brow.   “And harmonica.”   “Okay...” He turned to you fully, leaning on his hand.   “And drums.”    “And omnichord.”   “And ukulele.”   “And theremin.”   “Also, the violin.”   “Exactly how many instruments do you play?” He asked slowly, squinting.   “All of those.”   “Is that all?”

  “Oh, I've also been practicing the rain stick. It's a very delicate balance. Of balancing the stick and turning it slowly so it sounds like rain and not like white noise coming from a TV in a horror game as the guy finds his clone dead on an armchair. In front of the TV.”

  Marshall’s confusion was evident on his face.   “I don't even know what a rain stick is.”

  “Of course you don't. I mean-“ You raised your hands defensively. Marshall grinned with amusement.

  “Whaaat?” He tilted his head and his ears lowered, hair, darker than the night sky, spilling over his face.

  “I mean it's an unpopular instrument in Aaa. Not to say you don't know things. You know lots of things! More things than I know! Probably.” You glanced from side to side.

  “Like what?” His tone changed and his expression did as well, more mischevious. It was your turn to be confused.

  “I assume a lot of the things you know I don’t- that’s my point? I don’t know?” You awkwardly fidgeted with your hands. Marshall seemed disappointed.

  “Right.” He sighed and snuffed out his cigarette.

  A silence settled.

  Yikes.   …

 You feigned a cough.

 “How's yooooooouuuuur....” You began to speak, only for your neurons to fizzle out. You panicked as your brain searched for a topic.

 “Music career?” You sounded embarrassingly unsure, maybe he wasn’t noticing, but you wanted to punch yourself. In the face. He stuck out his tongue and frowned as the cigarette crumpled into the grass.

  “Same old same old. I'm great and everyone loves me.”

  He focused in on the checkered cloth beneath him. He ran his hands over it in circles and you watched his black nails. His brows stayed furrowed and his voice was quiet.

  “I wish I could do more with it though.”

  You watched him curiously, moving a little closer.

  “Like what?”

  “I’ve done everything. Almost everything...” He shrugged and gestured. You knew he had not played the rain stick. “I've made so many albums and played shows in every place I could reach. Every corner of Aaa and most islands.” He sounded genuine, and his expression was serious. Not everyone got to see him like this. You were happy that you did. You hummed.

  “What about the Nightosphere? Have you done one there?”

  Marshall’s pupils shrunk at your words.

  “Can't. My mom would get involved and it'd be a whole thing.” He huffed and scoffed at the thought.   “I get that. Have you ever been to... the Dead Worlds?”

  “Yeah. Played a metal show. Death loved it. Butterscotch Butler tried to steal my skin.”

  You rolled your eyes.

“Ugh. Typical.”

  You inhaled deeply. The night air was pleasant and fresh, and a breeze had begun to pick up.

  You crossed your legs, following the lines of the grass stuck to the bottom of your shoes.

  “You know, it’s weird how much I think about death. My whole life is just one big thought about death.” You bit your lip. Your nails scratched against the top of your shoes.

  “Imagine how I feel.”

  You met his gaze. His pupils widened, almost becoming round.

  “I can’t,” You responded bluntly. “Do you think it’s worse to be immortal than mortal?”

  “I think both are shit. Immortals long for death, and mortals try to evade it. Besides my mom. She's doing just fine with her immortality." 

  You both looked rather sullen. The atmosphere was heavy.

  “Do you long for death?”

  “Not anymore.”

  You were relieved and concerned at that.

  “I try not to ask about the way you became a vampire,” He had told you about some of his past, in fragmented bits that you had pieced together. “But do you think it influenced the way you view it? Death?”

  “It changed everything. I forced myself not to care. The loss is endless and the crap is endless.”

  You ran a hand through your hair.

  “That is crazy depressing,” You breathed.

  Marshall didn’t reply. He took out a cigarette. He lit it. You would’ve as well.

  "It's been so long since I became a vampire. And I'm still mad about it..." 

  "I'm still mad about plenty of things that happened when I was a kid. I think most people still hold onto some things. Especially when they're that traumatic." You clasped your right hand over your left, careful not to brush the fingertips. 

  "You think so?" 

  "Yeah." 

  He took a drag of the cigarette. You wanted some kind of thank you, some response. You knew you weren't going to get it. It took him a lot to open up. And he was also high to an unknown degree. At least you two matched each other's weirdness.

 “You know what’s more depressing? My exes.” You snapped your fingers.

  "Want me to beg?"  He smirked.

   You stuttered in flustered confusion. 

  "What-?!" 

   Marshall laughed. 

  "The last time you mentioned your exes? Treehouse?”

  You covered your face.

“Oh… right. Don’t say that ever again, what the hell?"

  Marshall shrugged.

  “My last ex was a demon.”

  Marshall split his attention between you and the cigarette.

  “How’d you meet?”

"I don't recall..." You deflected, fidgeting.

  "You can't "not recall" meeting your demon ex, unless you were as high as Gumball's opinion of himself," Marshall scoffed. You tensed, sighing.

  “I was at a music festival and they threw up in front of my then partner’s sea lard. We started dating shortly after I broke up with said partner some years later.”

  “You’d think the main hurdle in our relationship would be that they were a demon and I was human. But no, the real villain was their struggle with emotional vulnerability and my trauma.” You placed your hand under your chin in thought.

 “What about that other partner?”

  “They were a demon too. And the previous one as well. Huh, all were demons.” You tapped your knee.

  Your eyes widened.

  “Do I have a type?!”

  Marshall held back laughter.

  “You only noticed?”

  You leaned on your hand.

  “Damn, I never thought about it for some reason. Is that weird?”

  “No. It is kinda funny though.” This cigarette was going way faster.

   The moon was high in the sky and you could see galaxies along with the stars.

   You laid on half of the cloth, feet on the grass. A dancing beetle crawled onto you and you shook it off, ending its party of one. You saw things in the sky you hadn’t seen before. Galaxies, stars, nebulas. You should’ve stopped to appreciate things more, small things that became ordinary. Your eyes shifted to Marshall briefly. He looked really cool. You turned your head to the hills. They were spotless.

  “Are you only into demons?”

  Your counting of the stars was interrupted.

  “I wouldn’t say so.”

  You weren’t sure.

  “What about vampires?”

  You partially sat up, but didn’t look at him.

“You’re the only vampire left.”

  He hummed in agreement.

 “I’d- I... I mean, sure,” You stumbled verbally.

  “What about a demon vampire?” You could hear the smile in his voice. You turned to see his gaze on you. You hid your smirk.

  “I’d give them a chance.”

  He hid a giddy expression with a cloud of smoke. Judging by the length of the cigarette, his last cloud. 

  He reached for another. His expression turned perplexed. He shook the box. Empty. 

  "Guess there were only two. I did smoke one while I was waiting for you..." 

  "Sorry for not flying," You sassed from the ground, flailing your arms for emphasis. 

  "You could've asked me to pick you up, you know?" 

  You were confused as you heard and felt the shifting of the cloth. Marshall disappeared. You turned your head around. You called his name unsurely, turning back around to sit up. Before you could, you felt weight on either side of you and watched in horror as Marshall appeared above you. He straddled you. Your face flushed and your brain shut down. 

  "Marshall, what are you doing?" You asked with a strained, worried tone.

  Marshall stared down and studied the details of your appearance. 

  "Hm? I wanna see who I'm talking to," He explained calmly. 

  Your hands dug into the cloth and you pressed yourself into the ground. Your breathing hastened much to your dismay. 

  You gulped as you looked around him, trying to find the least weird place to look at. Not his jean zipper. Probably not his bite mark. You looked into his eyes with desperation which he either ignored or didn't notice. 

  He smelled like that drug, a vaguely herbal and smokey scent, it burned away and clung to him. You could also smell artificial cherry, and it must've been him. Though maybe you were hallucinating. 

  Could he hear your heartbeat? Was that a thing? Those ears of his had to be good for something. 

  You feverishly rummaged around your pockets, pulling out a small box. 

  "You want gum?" 

  He opened his mouth. Fangs. Your brain was melting. 

  "It's red."  

  He closed his mouth and held out his hand, eyes half closed and ears relaxed. You put one in his hand, careful not to brush it, as though it was toxic. 

  Was he pulling your leg? Was it just another joke you didn't get? He liked that, didn't he? Did he? He couldn't. But he was mean. At times. 

  You looked up at the sky. 

  It was quickly covered by his frame, hands now at the sides of your neck. You didn't dare move. Though you couldn't control the rapid rising and falling of your chest.

  "Nervous?" He asked breathily. 

  You frowned. 

  "Uh..." 

  His pupils grew round. 

  "Your heartbeat is so fast. I can see the moon in your stars."

  "You mean... eyes?" 

  "What did I say?" 

   "Stars." 

  "Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting..." He mumbled, and you searched for the meaning on his face. What was he going on about??? 

  He got off you in a swift motion you didn't quite see in the moonlit night. You sat up with an owlish glare. 

  "Are you alright?" Your voice was gentle. You kept your distance. 

  He sat there silently, sucking the red from the gum in a flash. 

  "Do you need any help?" 

 Clearly, yes. His eyes glazed over his palms.

"My hands are so cold." 

  With anxious delay you sat down close to him, taking his hands and wrapping yours around them. Your breath stuttered.

  His grip tightened around you. You felt warmer even though his ice-cold touch, colder than his rings, sent goosebumps across your arms. His finger brushed your inner wrist. You bit your cheek, transfixed.

  "Even though I don't need warmth, this is nice," Marshall said serenely.

  "You don't need warmth?!" You barked.

   "Oops?" He smiled innocently, ears pinned back. 

  "You're so cold!" You whined. 

 "Yet I still make you heat up." 

  You frowned, and he watched your face. His nails became claws and left tantalizing trails. You felt your face rise in temperature.

  "Aw, I wish I could blush."

  "You could've just asked to hold my hands."

  "And you could've asked me for a lift. Why do we do this?" 

  "Cause we're two traumatized shut-ins." 

He put his head on your chest. Your breath stuttered in your lungs. 

   "Very deep."

   "I guess it is- OW!" You flinched as you felt a sharp sensation against your wrist. Marshall leaned back and turned over your right arm with his left. His fingertips were slightly tougher on that side. Your thoughts were proven correct. 

  Your face filled with worry as you saw blood on your arm. 

  "Shit, is this from me?" 

  "Where else would it come from?!" Your voice rang out in barely contained frustration. 

  "I- I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, I'd never want to-" His voice suddenly became panicked, his puppy dog eyes filled with remorse. He met your eyes desperately, but you were too focused on the injury. It didn't hurt too much... it was weird. The night was weird. 

  "This was a mistake," He said. 

  "You mean... us meeting tonight?" 

  "No- me scratching you. And offering you drugs. And everything else."

  "Like you straddling me? Or asking if you should beg?" You huffed. 

  "... Yeah. I should be more careful with you." 

  You looked pissed.

  You took your arm away from him harshly, taking a bandaid from a pocket on your jacket and putting it over the scratch. You'd have to disinfect it later. 

  "You carry around a bandaid?" He rose a brow.

  "And a pick." You took out a small guitar pick from your shirt. 

  "Is that it?" 

  "I have a tiny watermelon with a face on it." You showed the plastic watermelon briefly before chucking it back in.

  You smoothed down the bandaid. Your touch lingered. It was hard to focus on anything else.

  "Again, I'm sorry. I just haven't been this close to anyone in ages."    You sighed. 

  "How long is ages, exactly?" 

  "There was a girl three years ago. And some... guy... hundreds of years ago." 

  You couldn't hide the surprise on your face. 

  "I assumed you had a lot more exes. In hindsight, it doesn't make sense knowing you. Still, feels wrong." 

  You kept talking for quite a while. 

  The moon was slowly drifting away, the horizon brightening. Heavy clouds rolled in and it seemed like it would rain. 

  "It's been fun, but I should probably go. I'm getting sleepy." You stretched as you began to get up. Your legs were falling asleep. Your eyes felt dry and your voice began to creak and deepen. You were thoroughly wasted and your common sense was drifting off with the moon. Your arm also hurt to move in the wrist area. You were over it though. 

  "Touché. Not long 'til the sun rises." 

  Marshall floated up. You almost forgot he did that.

  He began to float along you. You left soft dents in the grass. He left nothing. 

  "Aren't you gonna take that cloth?" You pointed back to the spot you had sat in all night.

  "Oh, that? It's not mine," He said calmly.

  "WHAT." 

  You blinked, face twisted in concern. 

  The ground beneath your feet was plush and the green was ridiculously vibrant even in the dark. You nearly fell over as you stopped at a fork in the hills, one towards Marshall's cave cottage and one towards your place. Your heart nearly lurched out of your body, suddenly set into a faster pace. You didn't notice that Marshall was ready to catch you. The treehouse would've been visible if you turned around. 

  "And this is where we say goodbye," Your voice broke the silence of the landscape with exhaustion-caused softness. 

  "C'mon, let me help you get back home. You're falling asleep," Worry and what you wanted to be care laced his voice. You crossed your arms with a lowering of your brows. 

   "I don't see how you could do that," You said skeptically.

   Marshall's knee-high sneakers touched the ground. He transformed into a giant bat in seconds. 

   "Oh, right." You felt your face flush. 

  His eyes were the same, but rounder and more upturned, with the black scleras much less visible. His ears had the same color but were like that of a bat. They retained their piercings, but were less noticeable. His nose was highly boopable, upturned even more. He was covered with black fur and his arms were wings, the skin fading from its usual hue to black at the claws. He must've been way over 4 meters tall. 

  He picked you up and placed you on his back. You yelped as you gripped his fur for stability. You were startled by how soft it was. The strands were like satin. You couldn't help but run your hands over it, lost in the sauce. 

  "Whoa..." 

  "Uhhh. What are  you doing there?" Marshall's voice took you out of your fixation. You flinched at it. 

  "Sorry!" You held your hands close to yourself. You heard him laugh faintly in response before you took off without warning. You couldn't even scream in shock as you felt like you were being yanked up and down simultaneously. 

  The ground shrunk beneath you and the gusts of wind that had been intensifying became an advantage to Marshall's flight. His wings moved quickly at first, and then he began to glide. Your heart began to slow as the pace evened out. You still looked, and were, utterly terrified. You had to move your jaw to pop your ears from the sudden rise of altitude. The prospect of being so high up was enough to kill you. But the clouds looked pretty, and your vehicle was calm. 

  After a while of undisturbed flight, you stopped caring about the past or the future or what could be or would be- you just cared about this moment. 

  It smelled of fresh petrichor. There was nothing interfering with the fresh air. It was a feeling like no other, and nothing would ever compare to it. If you could fly you'd never complain about anything. Why was Marshall such a dick if he could do this at ANY POINT?! Maybe it was only special to you because you experienced this rarely (never). Like you looking at the stars or at him, he had grown used to the wonders of flight, and it was just another thing, another automatic thing. 

  "Where do I go?" 

  You grimaced. You hadn't even told him where you lived. Oh shit. 

  "To the right! Over the river and forest! Behind the Candy Kingdom and Mountains, overlooking water," You yelled to the best of your abilities. 

  "I can hear you! I have bat ears," He replied. 

  "Great, because my throat hurts," You rasped. The good thing about him being old was that he had to know where that was. You hoped so. 

  You really didn't want to get off Marshall. He was fluffy, and you sneaked one last pet. Glob damn him for being so cute in that form. Not like he wasn't cute in his usual form. But that thought was gonna stay in your vault for the time being. 

  As you got into your house you struggled with the lock. As soon as you entered, you rushed around the house. 

  "I wasn't expecting anyone, so it's a mess in here," You muttered as you shoved stuff and junk under furniture with your shoe. You did so rather lazily, half-conscious. 

  Marshall followed you and spooked you with his lack of footsteps. He flicked on the lights, for your sake. The light assaulted your eyes and you groaned. 

  You dragged yourself to the couch and crumpled onto it, sighing at last, the familiarity of your house coercing you into that good night. Marshall was being uncharacteristically quiet and helpful. You felt unbelievably comfortable as you nuzzled into the smooth fabric. The world began to fade away. You felt a cold pressure on your shoulder, tugging. Your name was repeated several times. You hummed.

  "You gotta get to bed." 

  You opened your eyes minimally. You made incoherent noises. You were too comfortable and too tired.

  "I could carry you-" 

  Without letting him finish that sentence you shot up with a bewildered gaze.

  "NoImgood and suddenly feel veryawake," You interrupted. Marshall squinted at you suspiciously.

  As you were walking to your room you passed by a doorway. Marshall peeked in, disappearing in its darkness. You followed him in, turning on some lamps. Marshall floated over an instrument, pointing to it. 

  "What's that?" You swear you saw his eyes sparkle as he stared at it.

  "Omnichord." 

  "Can I try it?"  

  You nodded.

  He looked around the various buttons, the glinting strum plate catching his eye. He clicked the on button and pressed on A minor. He touched the strum plate. As soon as it made a warm shimmering sound his ears stood straight, gaze mystified. He did it again, dragging his finger against the strum plate. He looked over the plastic buttons and letters, clicking on some until he found a chord progression. 

  It was novel seeing him mess around. You leaned against the doorframe as a smile found its way to your tired face. You had that beautiful bastard in your house, in your music room, playing with this ancient shit like a kid. It was probably from around his time, too.

  "Where did you find this magical machine?" He looked over his shoulder. 

  "Gumball helped me get it." You flipped your wrist. He slowed his playing. 

  "Gumball." His tone wasn't happy. The atmosphere did a 180, but you didn't notice. 

  " Yeah, we're vaguely friends, without him, I probably wouldn't be able to find all this old tech." Your hands found their way around your body. You closed your eyes for a second.

  "Cool," You vaguely heard Marshall's faux chill tone. The darkness behind your eyelids was fuzzy. For a second, you'd just close them for a second...

  Your name resounded in your head. Again, and again, a chorus echoing in the dark. Cold on your shoulders and cool air around your face. Snowing? Was it snowing? Ice Kingdom? Ice cream? You scream? We all scream for her? 

  Your name close to your face. A familiar, melodic voice. You opened your eyes. Blurry. You looked around, neck movements slowed. You looked straight ahead. 

  "You fell asleep."

  You blinked, groaning. You blinked once more- the face- Marshall. You had never been so close to him. You could see his smudged eyeliner set with eyeshadow and his dark lashes, the furrows and crypts in his iris, all his glinting black metal piercings, the texture of his black lips. His brows lowered and you saw every hair. His hair, was it as soft as his fur? You reached up but stopped.

  "Oh shit. This isn't a dream?" You muttered as you froze. 

  Marshall instantly unhanded you. 

  "No." He looked at your hand, raised to the ends of his hair. He silently asked you what you were doing. You hummed in thought, dropping your arm. 

  "Just dreamed... of something... sorry," You mumbled. 

  The walk to your room was short. A minute at most. But now, it was like your body was in water, and everything was spinning in a washing machine inner drum. Your room smelled familiar, woody, a slice of nature. 

  You were about to close your door.    Marshall stopped it with his arm, startling you with the ease of his resistance to the pressure you put on the door. 

  "Wait-"

  You hummed in question. 

  "The sun- the sun is rising and it's raining. Can I stay the day?" He looked down at you with pleading eyes. You would've agreed to anything at this point. Sea lard in your bed? Sure. Cactus in your hair? Sure. Whatever you want, man. 

  "Of course. Take the couch," You forced out dryly, head nodding sleepily. You hoped he wouldn't steal your couch, literally taking it. Anything was possible with Marshall.

  "Sick-" 

  You shut the door and closed the lock, walking around your room as you discarded your clothes. All you wanted was the sweet embrace of the void, for a little reprise.       - Bonus!

-

  After you awoke, feeling like a corpse, you fixed yourself and with immense willpower, opened your door. You were mad hungry. The sun outside was setting. You must've slept for over ten hours. 

You found your kitchen empty of any vampire demons and ate anything you could get your hands on. 

  You carefully crept into your living room, looking around the corner. You saw a bat hanging off the chandelier. You frowned. 

  "What the what is a bat doing here?!" You clutched the couch, wondering how you'd get it out. 

  The bat flew down and turned into Marshall. You pursed your lips. 

  "Good morning to you too."

  You gulped. Oh glob.

  "... Good morning." 

[cynoswhore]

cyno nsfw headcanons. f reader

contains: yandere!cyno, some plot :3, mainly foreplay<3

-100% was obsessed with you before you guys officially met.

-your scent was just so enamoring and he knew that he needed you to be his.

-you always felt watched when you would explore sumeru.. but never knew why

-it was him. protecting you from anyone else. giving you slight hints towards the best chests. fighting off the eremites.

-his need for you rushed through his veins. patience was the answer, but at one point… he decided to just figure it out himself.

-he didn’t know how to get you at first. but then it all happened perfectly.

-you were walking around town as a sandstorm started, whisking you away.

-cyno had asked candace to ensure she didn’t help you this time.

-he was your savior.

-you were enamored. you owed him your life. you could never be able to pay him back.

-instantaneous best friends. slow burn lovers. this was exactly what he wanted. craved.

-one night, you guys were innocently cuddling, his hand on your thigh while your legs were swung over his lap, innocently reading the news surrounding the kamisatos recent decision.

-he was so hard.. imagining you sitting on his lap.. bouncing on his cock. he needed you on top of him.

-his mind wandered, coughing as you brought his attention back to the front headline you had just read, not noticing his … package.

-little did he know, you wanted him too.

-brushes of his hand on your thigh turned into harder grips onto the flesh, creeping up to your crotch just barely.

-juuust barely.

“cyno..” you whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes.

he chuckled, getting closer to grind his palm against your panties, his eyes never leaving from yours.

you could feel yourself lighting up. light touches were explosions for your senses, sending shivers up your spine.

it was overwhelming. you’ve never felt this flood of pleasure before. your hand reached to grip onto his white hair, but it was out of reach.

gotta get.. closer

light moans left your mouth as you crawled closer to him, meeting his lips with yours. soft kisses turned into sensual, deep connections of souls. your whimpers as he stopped the grinding were muffled by pressed lips, pouting into the kiss.

you smirked, starting to place yourself on his lap, subtly grinding your needy warmth against his.

“oh baby,” he groaned as you began to get more rough.

it was so hard to control himself around you.

[smittyw]

i wanted to make some dinky elevator pitch introductions for my fav ocs because.. i dont talk about them very coherently it seems. or at all! what!!

to finally make up for that i'll put my extended edition under the cut below. love peace taco grease and stay frosty forever

so from what i gather in my notes, razz is the only recognizable one around here who got their lore blasted from a megaphone the second i came up with it. after that i got shy.. i was too busy having thoughts to ever explain who molly and Q were or where they came from. and its been like 2 years. well!

nat and molly are formerly codependent childhood friends and funhouse mirror versions of each other who split paths after high school. theyre like if two besties fated to be a detective duo spat on fate's shoes and ran off in different directions to do the same thing but badly & alone.. molly actually hit the books to become a private investigator, champion of truth and justice, while nat hit the pavement to become a paparazzo, champion of clickbait. they hate each other a lot but given the slightest chance they will attach at the hip again and drain the life from each other.

Q is later to the party, a terminally exhausted college dropout and shut-in with a notable (anonymous) presence in the online music scene. every slight inconvenience in his life is a straw and when the last one hits boy is he ready to just drive into the sunset or maybe the ocean or maybe just live in his car and stop talking to people forever. if the band they joined out of peer pressure makes it big or they get found out for their alter ego its so over..but luckily they started dating the most nosy and paranoid idiot alive & inadvertently pissed off the second most nosy and paranoid idiot alive in the process, so surely nothing like that could ever happen

these goobs run in slightly different circles that overlap juuust enough to be a problem, and its hard not to run into the most annoying eccentrics in their unserious version of LA slightly stuck out of time. if i were reintroducing lore important characters itd include plenty more than just them (eg freddy mysteriously missing from this description of events as if he isnt also there) but imho i have no obligation to pay attention to anything outside the range of my hyperfixation blast. the important thing to me rn is just to let yall know what the hell im talking about when i make stupid jokes everyday about girlies who dont exist <3

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

hiya! I think for Radiostatic, some old timey hang outs between them would be really cool to see if you're up for it. :)

I'm generally curious how you think their fallout went, if you'd like to express your opinion on that.

HEY I'm not finished with this yet but so far I have three sketches I was doing with your prompt in mind hehe ✨✨✨ thank you for giving me the ideas as well anon!! Imma draw like one more pic after these sketches of the fallout because I definitely have ideas in mind.

So here's the scenarios:

Alastor got in a fight over Vox considering his friend is smaller and weaker and Alastor doesn't like when Vox is being picked on. He couldn't help himself, got to beating peoples asses and now Vox is scolding him but while also dealing with Alastor's wounds.

Second sketch is then walking home today after a drinking night. They gotta keep a hold to each other to not fall. (Though imagine they do collapse into a heap and just giggle and laugh because of it)

Third is them cuddling. Alastor is definitely big smooth with most cases but sometimes he's open for little spoon too. They have the pillow for protection juuust in case.

What you guys think? Hehehe I really like the one where they are holding on to each other but imma see if I can fix and finish lineart today.

FOLLOW ME ON TWITCH SO CATCH ME DRAWING IN THE ACT! I WANNA GROW THAT PLATFORM OF MINE! <333 (@ ashes_artsprout)

Let's draw and write together!

(asksbox (for radiostatic, adamsapple mostly but you can ask about other ships as well, I don't mind.) and commissions to help support me through my healing journey are open :3)

The Fallout:

As much as I love bringing Val into it, I also like believing they fell out before Valentino was even in the picture for real. I also think that maybe it was a love confession gone wrong but we've heard it where Vox confessed and Alastor was the one to freak out but have you ever heard the song IFHY?? It's not to say that they hated each other at this point but imagine this

Alastor actually builds a codependency with Vox, like Vox is unique..Vox can be fragile, the feeling of being his friend probably started to blend into genuine care for Vox and Alastor was actually the one to confess first.

It took a lot of energy too, building the confidence but wanting Vox kind of pulled some obsession out of Alastor and in a way that Alastor probably wanted him to himself, forever but Vox wanted to run off so bad and make it big in Hell like he's always talked about and it caused conflict and confusion between the two of them because Alastor sucked at truly expressing those feelings of his.

How in reality while he doesn't feel these emotions often, he's felt them with Vox so that must mean he should keep Vox close. To himself.

Vox notices the slight shifting of Alastor's mood here and there but they probably got in an argument really and big feelings came out during said arguments. Like Alastor admitting those feelings to Vox but in a way that made him angrier, after all he never asked to feel anything or even ..fall in love with his only and best friend.

Vox would probably fall silent, stunned at the words because it's just so... unexpected? Surprising? He isn't sure himself. I can see Alastor panting with ragged breath as Vox looks at him in shock but I can also see him running away the second those words leave his mouth and he leaves like a tornado, running things in his rush.

It left Vox to think in a messy room. That somehow and someway, these emotions were going to strain them, especially if Alastor wanted to talk about it while refusing to do so at the same time..

Lol, just a thought but one I think about often enough.

[saintjosie]

WAIT YOUR EYELINER IS SO CUTE WHAT (DROP THE TUTORIAL!!)

Also where did you or your spouse get the my melody plush in your pinned post? Asking for a friend

jess won the plush in a crane game so you’re probably SoL there

side note: jess is one of the most gifted crane game players i’ve ever seen and she regularly walks up to one, puts in a quarter, and comes back with a prize and it’s absolutely insane.

i’m assuming you’re talking about this eyeliner?

idk how to do makeup tutorials but as best i can describe, there’s a couple of things going on here.

i will add the caveat that this works for me bc of my asian almond eye shape and a lot of what i do is specifically for asian monolids

first, i am wearing false lashes. my eyelashes are good length but having the monolid and asian eye fold means that any eyeliner that goes into the fold essentially disappears when my eyes are at rest and then is wayyyy too dark when my eye brows go up. i use a very subtle false lash that looks like i’m wearing mascara instead of mascara because i’ve found that the band of the lash helps fill in the eyelid fold without using eyeliner.

second, nyx epic ink liner. waterproof, drugstore so it’s cheap and can find it anywhere, and comes with a nice thin tip, great for doing a subtle wing.

i very subtly line the inside corner of my eye all the way out to the outside corner of my eye, while being careful not to over line the fold of my eyelid too much. then i extend it ever so slightly into a wing that goes juuust outside the corner of my eye.

the trick to this particular style of eyeliner comes from the outside corner of the wing relative to your eye shape. i have an almond shaped eye that slants slightly upward, so the outside corner of the wing follows that natural shape and the corner of the wing comes out just slight past where my eye would if it continued in that shape. it accentuates the shape of my eye without being over the top. it might take a couple of tries to get the shape just right because if you go too high, it ends up looking like a wing proper instead of your natural eye shape and if you go too low, it looks like you have sad eyes. both are completely fine styles but just isn’t what i’m going for when i’m going for a more natural look. this is mostly how i do my eyeliner when i’m going out but don’t want to go full glam.

to contrast, if i am going full glam, i’ll use a much heavier false lash but i’ll bring the wing out more and use a fun shape. but the trick is that i’m still following the natural shape of my eye with the wing.

here’s a pic of a more complex eyeliner for contrast (throwback to my blonde era). note that the wing still follows the natural shape of my eye and ends where the corner of my brow shape is so create these really satisfying lines.

damn i’m fucking hot

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles 2023

Day 8 - Ignorance

(Oops! Life got a taaaaaad busy there! Between having to finish a heck ton of designs and products for a market, several days of travel, restless sleep and a birthday, there wasn't really any time to write! I'm gonna do my best to get back on track now though~)

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

QueerPlatonic PolyQuad Krook House Crew - ModernHuman AU

“Get FUCKED, scum twatter!”

With a satisfied smirk, Anni watched the scowling little old lady turn with a huff, more than glad to see the back of the nasty ass hag.

“That was a little harsh, don't you think?”

“Letters, you know I love your sunshiny ass, but shut the fuck up.”

Fresh Cut Grass gave a slight huff, staring up at their beloved crusty punk of a partner, watching as she flipped off a gruff looking middle aged man, her glare almost daring him to come say something. And perhaps he would have, if it weren't for Ashton right behind her, cracking his knuckles something fierce, managing to look threatening even with Milo curled up in their lap, nose deep in a textbook thicker than their thighs.

“I just don't- I’m not saying that-” they tried, starting and stopping, failing to get his words out just right. “I know she was- That people tend to be a tad…”

“Ignorant?” Milo interjected with, not even looking up as they let the page flutter over to the next.

“Shitty?” Ashton added, reaching over to thread their fingers through Fresh Cut Grass’ bouncy locks, scratching at their scalp in a way that always had him melting in seconds.

“Deserving of a swift kick to the shins?” Anni finished with little flourish of her combat boots, skidding a foot across the grass before settling back into place, leaning heavily into Fresh Cut Grass’ side.

“Rude! I was gonna say rude!” They cried out, a familiar exasperation dripping from each and every word. Yet there was no bite to it, no true annoyance to be heard, this old song and dance so deeply familiar to them all.

After all, no one really understood them.

Too close to be friends.

But distinctly lacking in romance and lust.

And yet, the love they all shared was undeniable.

No others were allowed to touch Ashton in such a way, their flesh only connecting with most through flurries of blows. Only their crew was allowed the privilege of gentleness, of warm, heavy embraces and ever so gentle hands, as large and powerful as they were, tenderly holding, patting and stroking.

Only they were worth that pain.

Who else could draw Milo from the safety and comfort of their own home? The outside world was so bright and noisy, full of people who always threw funny looks their way. Away from their beloved projects and personal coffee blend that only Ashton, Anni and Letters knew how to make juuust right.

Yet here they were, outside on a sunny day, in the middle of a public park.

Only they were worth the mental energy.

Anni notoriously got along with just about nobody. People were a pain in the ass. They didn't like her crass sense of humor. They only ever tended to like her when she was performing. But her music, her art, was deeply personal to her, and outside of actual gigs, no one got to hear her play.

Nor did they get to see beneath the brashness. The loyal heart that lay beneath.

Only they were worth trying for.

Fresh Cut Grass loved hugs and going out and meeting all kinds of people! By all means they should have been surrounded by a plethora of love!

But they had been burned before, both metaphorically and, well, physically. He had felt loss. Felt abandonment. Felt lost and alone and so so afraid.

It had been Ashton and Anni and Milo who had put him together again, who never gave up on them, who fought against a world so big and cruel, just to keep them safe.

Just to see Fresh Cut Grass smile again.

Only they were worth that fractured trust.

“Rude is fair too,” Milo agreed, finally setting their book down to peer over at their partner, throwing them an understanding smile. “Honestly, all those answers were. People are assholes when they don't understand something. I think we all know that pretty well. I for one, can't really complain about ignorant bastards getting what’s coming for them. Anni and Ashton need some kind of healthy outlet for all that pent up rage.”

“You saying I can punch a mother fucker?”

“Not unless you have bail money ready. I am not spending my afternoon trying to get your ass out of an arrest AGAIN, Anni.”

“Booooo, you whore!”

“Can't get arrested if you punch them hard enough that the fucker can't even remember their own name.”

“Ashton! You promised, no more fights this week!

“Ain’t a fight if they never punch back,” Ashton retorted with a shit eating grin. Fresh Cut Grass crossed their arms in turn, before playfully flicking the very tip of his nose.

“You know what I was meanin’! Only necessary violence allowed, like self defense or wrestlin’ street alligators!”

“... Do I even want to ask where that shit came from?”

“Street alligators? Oh! Well I was watchin’ YouTube late last night…”

“Late night conspiracy vids. Got it.”

Under the shade of an old oak tree, upon a fluffy old blanket, they four of them continued on, voices overlapping, intermingling as their bodies did aa well. Their touches casual, yet still intimate. Lingering without complaint, with familiar comfort.

Like this was all they ever needed.

Like, together, they were home.

And that was something worth the scorn, the cruel whispers and willful ignorance.

After all, nothing else quite mattered outside of them.