#like black and tan labs

[plaguepups]

potentially unpopular opinion but i don’t care if someone is breeding off standard colors as long as they are doing it ethically

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

141 as your drug dealer boyfriend

Ghost- Let's be real with ourselves, Ghost is not a good man. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his. He will do anything to get what he wants and there is no stopping him. It's what made him a great soldier, and it's what makes him a great kingpin. He moves weight to put it lightly. There isn't a moment where an uncut key is unmoving; from a warehouse, to a plane (or car, or train), to a distributor, to a pusher, to up someone's nose. He'll try to do some damage control, make sure things aren't cut with fent, but that's only to make sure customers keep coming back. He likes to keep his hands clean, in the sense that he'll never be the one to pull the trigger on anyone that's out of line. Living up to his name, no one knows what he looks like. Hell, a lot of people don't even think he's real.

But when it comes to you, Simon's a different man. No talk about work, just you and him. Other than the multiple hidden guns around the house and Glock he sleeps with, life is normal with you. Holiday homes in the French countryside and Bahamas. Designer everything. Sports cars in all your favorite colors. You want for nothing. It's the life he wanted for you. After all those years of crying and hurt when he was away for weeks or months, you deserved the world. Want the new Hermès bag? You got it. Can't choose between the black or white louboutins? Get both. Stop eating you out because you can't feel your toes anymore? Sorry love, only thing he can't do for you.

Soap- Johnny is a small business owner. Weighs everything out by his own hand. Presses his own pills. Let's you help baggie everything up. A social butterfly, this man is at every concert, rave, or music festival. Sometimes he has a friend help push his stuff when he just wants to stay home with you, but for the most part he's his own salesman. And a damn good one. Never has overstock. No matter how much he brings with him, he'll always sellout.

Has a supernatural sense of being shorted. Can tell if a bag is even a few grams off just by holding it.

"Ye'r an idiot if ye think ye kin short me."

And when the other party denies, he always keeps a pocket scale on him, setting the parcel on it. And sure enough, he's always right.

He'll come home with a few grand, the only job you have is to sit there and look pretty. And roll his spliffs. Sitting in his lap, tucking the rolling paper into itself and licking it closed while he counts out a fat wad of cash. He hands you a fat stack,

"A've never bin good wi' money. Ye know how to spend it better than me."

He never touches the stuff he sells, no need to when all the dopamine he needs is right between your legs.

"Ten times better than any o tha' shite, anyways."

He pants in your ear while folding you in half, firm grip on your throat.

Gaz- When it comes to psychedelics, Kyle is your go-to man. He's a fucking genius, synthesizes his own DMT and LSD in a lab. It's a state of the art facility, clean with the latest and greatest equipment available. He supplies the whole Northeast. If it's a hallucinogen, it's most likely Gaz's product. And if it's good, it's definitely his. He has a cozy set up with some "organization" that he cooks for. Steers clear of actually selling to people, no need to when his clients line his pockets so well. Never brings work home, he even wears different clothes when he's in the lab.

He has a set schedule he has to adhere to but sometimes he's able to take vacations with you. And that's how you ended up bent over a balcony watching the sunset in Punta Cana,

"I work so hard to make you happy, now it's my turn yeah?"

A breeze sends a shiver up your spine while he kisses your shoulder,

"I know a private beach where you can even out those tan lines,"

Of course he doesn't give a shit about that, he just wants to fuck you silly on the seaside (and show off to anyone who might be watching.)

Price- Caring and nurturing, the man naturally has a green thumb. And alongside his prized heirloom tomatoes, he grows really, really good weed. Has a whole growroom in his basement, decked out with proper ventilation, ACs, UV lights, the works. The man grows medical grade weed that private clinics buy from him. He's legit. And of course he serves the public as well under the table, sells only to people he knows and established clients can refer others to him. He treats his plants like his babies, even going as far as to play music for them (according to him classical music helps them grow better???). You don't know where he finds the time, but he also made you rose garden for your anniversary. He brings up the idea of a family every so often. He'll finish as deep inside of you as possible,

"Let's replace that plant nursery for a real one, yeah love?"

Gonna write actual stories for each one if y'all like this ( . * 3 * . )/`

[wachinyeya]

‘Ferrari in a junkyard’: Mules sold at auction are rare, endangered horses

https://washingtonpost.com/climate-environment/2024/08/09/przewalskis-horses-rescued-dna-shrek-fiona/

Hannah Huckabay regularly combs livestock auctions online for horses she can rehabilitate and train at her Colorado ranch. But when she saw a video in February of a mule for sale in Kansas, she could hardly believe what she was seeing.

The stocky animal’s short black mane shot straight up like a mohawk, and its white belly stood out against its tan coat. As it nervously paced in its corral, Huckabay said it bore a striking resemblance to Przewalski’s horse, a critically endangered species she’d learned about while studying equine science.

“I was like, ‘There is no way. That is not a mule,’” Huckabay recalled thinking. “That’s a purebred Przewalski.”

Such a find would be incredibly rare. Once extinct in the wild, around 2,500 Przewalski’s horses remained worldwide as of 2022. They’re native to Mongolia and in June, seven were reintroduced to nearby Kazakhstan as part of an effort to return them to their natural habitats. They are the only truly wild horse remaining (mustangs are feral horses).

But scientists say Huckabay’s hunch appears to be correct. Hair samples from the animal Huckabay purchased - along with a second horse recently surrendered at a Utah sanctuary - were sent to Texas A&M University’s animal genetics lab. Both appear to be Przewalski’s horses, said Rytis Juras, the genetics lab’s director who tested both samples.

The hair test looks for genetic markers associated with different horse breeds to determine an animal’s likely ancestry. Unequivocally confirming that the horses are purebred Przewalski’s and not hybrids would require advanced blood tests that are expensive and would mean sedating the equines.

The blood tests look at the number of chromosomes in a horse’s cells - 66 in a purebred Przewalski, versus 64 in a common horse or 62 in a donkey. An even more advanced version could sequence the horse’s entire genome.

But Juras and two other scientists who reviewed the findings said the hair-test results are reliable.

“If I would have gotten it from a zoo … that would be one thing,” Juras said of receiving the samples. But two random tests with Przewalski’s results were “surprising and a little bit disturbing,” he said. “This is weird.”

How the horse Huckabay found - and the second in Utah - ended up in livestock auctions is a mystery, said Christopher Faulk, a professor of animal science at the University of Minnesota who has studied Przewalski’s horse genetics and also reviewed the DNA results.

“Someone had to have known what they were, they don’t just appear out of anywhere,” Faulk told The Post. “Especially to have been disposed of in that way is even weirder,” he said, since livestock that aren’t purchased at auction can end up in slaughterhouses.

“That’s like finding a Ferrari in a junkyard,” he added.

Huckabay bought the animal for $1,375 in February and, after three weeks in quarantine, the ragged and underweight animal sold as a mule arrived at her ranch outside Denver.

Seeing its features in-person left her even more convinced it was a Przewalski’s horse, she said. With a large clunky head and stiff black mane, her daughter said the horse was so ugly, he was cute, Huckabay recalled. They named him Shrek, after DreamWorks’s beloved ogre.

After almost two months of helping Shrek acclimate, Huckabay’s daughter stumbled upon a video posted on June 9 from a sanctuary in Utah.

“Did we just have a Przewalski mare surrendered?!” the caption read.

Kelsey and Gunnar Bjorklund - who own the Lazy B Equine Rescue and Sanctuary in Utah - suspected their mare was also a Przewalski. But they had no idea there was a second possible Przewalski, saved from another auction.

The Bjorklunds’ horse was brought to their facility after being purchased for $35 in January at an auction in Utah, where she was advertised as a mule.

“It takes more money to get your nails done,” Kelsey said, adding that her previous owner decided to surrender the mare after she flunked out of a professional training program.

When the horse arrived and was unloaded from the trailer, “we were just in shock,” Gunnar said. It was clear the animal wasn’t a mule or a mustang, he said.

“Anyone getting possible Przewalski vibes!?” the Bjorklunds posted. “A true wild, endangered species of equine‼️ How cool would that be!”

In response to seeing the Bjorklunds’ viral video, Huckabay’s daughter posted her own videos of Shrek two days later. One got over 11 million views.

After coming across Shrek’s video, it was easy for the Bjorklunds to settle on a name for their mystery horse - Fiona, the princess-heroine from the Shrek movies.

The rescuers were stunned that two possible Przewalski’s horses could have surfaced almost simultaneously. The Endangered Species Act allows private ownership of endangered animals, but only with a permit, and under strict stipulations. The law prohibits the possession of illegally obtained endangered animals or their transport across state lines without permits.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service declined to comment on whether officials are investigating the horses’ chain of custody.

Some livestock auctions have occasionally served as hubs for illicit trade in exotic animal species.

Because most Przewalski’s horses descend from only about a dozen surviving individuals, scientists closely manage breeding genetics for diversity. Compared to the feral mustang, Przewalski’s are more resilient, said Dolores Reed, a biologist who helps oversee a small herd of the endangered horses at the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. Przewalski’s horses are built for the Mongolian steppe’s harsh climate, she said, adding, “they’re very tough,” and can be unpredictable.

There are about 100 Przewalski’s horses in U.S. zoos, Reed said.

Shrek and Fiona are adjusting to their new environments, their owners said. After keeping his distance from people and trotting in circles in his pen while stressed, Shrek has relaxed and moved to a larger field. He has bonded with two gentle mares and while he won’t accept treats from people’s hands, he loves when apples and carrots are left in his feed bucket, Huckabay said.

“He’s very piggy,” she said.

In Utah, Fiona has put on weight and made friends with a miniature mule and a quarter horse filly at the Bjorklunds’ sanctuary.

The rescuers wonder what would’ve happened if Shrek and Fiona hadn’t been saved. The endangered animals might’ve been sent to slaughter “and nobody would have known about it,” Gunnar said.

Huckabay and the Bjorklunds plan to care for the horses as long as needed, but said they’d prefer to see their rescued Przewalski’s move to a professional conservation program.

Shrek is happy on the ranch, but Huckabay said she’d rather see him with “a herd of his own.”

“That would be the best-case scenario,” she said.

[nymphomatique]

Can I get a Nerd!Miguel with a soft dom? I desperately need this man to be babbling and sputtering as he gets praised

u absolutely can nonnie 😌

❤︎ a/n: please lmk if u guys want more gn/male reader fics! i will def try my best to be as correct as possible, all things considered, im afab so there’s margin for error. please don’t hesitate to send an ask or a message! enjoy <3

cw: subby miguel, soft dom!gn reader (but i wrote this with a male reader in mind :]), jerking miguel off, miguel has a praise kink, affectionate terms, sex but no specific genitalia mentioned. just generally sweet.

“a B plus?” you scoff, “what happened to that brain of yours, it magically disappear?” you spit at miguel, poking a finger to his forehead.

you had just received the results from your chemistry lab that miguel had done for you, and it wasn’t the usual grade margin you had expected. miguel had been sitting in your room on your desk chair, hands folded between his lap with a meek expression plastered on his face. “well, you gonna explain yourself?” you prod, getting slightly irritated at his silence and demeanour alike.

miguel swallows and looks up at you, and yoh see tears welling in his eyes. it takes you by surprise, and your eyes widen a bit at the emotional shift in the atmosphere. “i- i’m sorry, just been having a hard time, s’all,” miguel mumbles out, wiping the tears away before the fall. you chest feels a pang at the tone of his voice, an unfamiliar emotion brewing inside you.

“hey, um, we- you don’t have to do this— us, if it’s making you feel bad,” you begin, feeling uncomfortable a bit. miguel’s head shoots up and he immediately starts shaking it in disagreement. “no- i um- i.. like.. us. what we do, in a fucked up way,” miguel sputters out and you feel.. conflicted at his words.

“well, we’re taking it easy for today, alright? you’re um- not doin’ so well. so i’ll take care of you, yeah?” you reply, and you place your hands palm up at miguel, still in his chair. he looks up at you for a moment, hesitant, but he places his hands in yours, and you pull him up out for the chair and towards your bed, pushing him down softly. “strip for me?” you ask, and miguel complies, removing and placing his glasses at your bedside table next to your lamp before he pulls his white t-shirt up and over his head, revealing the peeking muscle, gorgeous tan and trail of thick black hair on his abdomen you’ve grown familiar with.

“you’re a pretty one, y’know that?” you tell him, watching him strip languidly in front of you. he doesn’t respond, but you see a blush creep up from miguel’s chest to his cheeks, as he makes way to remove his pants and underwear next. you follow shortly after him, both of you naked and full of emotion.

“you ready?” you ask softly, straddling miguel’s lap. your arms go to wrap around his neck, his on your hips, and he legs out a soft “yes,” and you begin to start. you softly push his tousled brown hair out of his face and kiss hit forehead, nose bridge, and the tip of his nose. you look at him for a moment, taking in his brown eyes before you place a gentle kiss on his lips. and another. and another. and one more until the soft pecks turn into a slow make out session.

you grind your hips up against miguel’s crotch, the friction causing him to break the kiss and breathe out a short moan. “feels good, huh?” you mumble with a small smile, bringing your lips back up to miguels. you continue to grind slowly, feeling miguel’s thick hands come up to your waist to slow you down. “g-gonna cum, wanna wait for you,” miguel gasps out, leaning his head back. you nod, and push him backwards on the bed. you watch from your place on miguel’s lap, observing him in all his good looks and disheveled demeanour. rose tinted cheeks, glasses sitting atop his strong arched nose, his pretty lip, his heaving supple chest, the small hickies you’ve left in a trail across his tan skin. “gorgeous,” you breathe aloud. miguel blushes, rubbing small circles into the sides of your hips with his hands, still sitting comfortably on the supple flesh.

you raise your hips up and reach under you, grabbing miguel’s stuff length, eliciting a sharp inhale from him through his teeth. still, you pay him no mind and align your entrance with him, and slowly begin to sink down, letting out an exhale of pleasure as your head slinks back. “s-so big,” you moan quietly.

“so tight,” miguel breathes out back to you in response. you bring your head back to down at him once he’s fully inside you, grabbing his hands from your hips to enter-twine with yours. when you’re ready, fully used to the intrusive in you, you begin to lift your hips and drop them back down, in a steady rhythm. “so good, fuck- makin’ me feel all hot inside,” you moan out, your hips coming down with more force. “gonna make me cum all over you.”

miguel goes red in the face, sputtering curses underneath his breath at your praises. your words of “too big, s’good baby, so fuckin’ good,” making his chest swell and groin tighten. “love how you do things for me, my sweet boy. you make me so happy, y’know that?”

your hips keep going up and down, building a strong but steady sound of slapping skin. your dorm fills up with heavy breaths, words of affirmation, and sweet moans of both you and miguel to coincide with the sounds of your love making.

love making.

your chest tightens a bit, and you keen over, your chest meeting with miguel’s chest. your hips falter, but you don’t rest for long when miguel plants his feet into the bed, wraps his arms around your back and begins to push his hips up into you at a rapid pace. you let out an ah!, feeling your orgasm building up in you rapidly. “fuck, keep fucking me like that, love when you’re rough with me, baby,” you pant out. you hear miguel whimper at your words, his thrusts not faltering when you feel the thin line of pleasure writhing you snap. you’re shaking in his bulging arms, mouth hanging open silently as miguel fucks you through climax.

holy fucking shit.

“ngh, gonna- gonna cum, baby,” miguel groans out, thrusting up into you and tightening his hold around you as well. your eyes roll back into your head as you feel yourself become full of miguel. at the end of miguel’s climax, you both lay there. you in his arms, and him under you. your ear at his chest, listening to his solid heartbeat. his nose, settled right above your head, breathing the scent of you in. the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, emotions tense in the room, but none either one of you can bare to address.

your eyes begin to get heavy, and you take the chance to say something you know you couldn’t bring yourself to say in any other moment, hoping that miguel is awake to hear it.

“thank you.”

[chiwhorei]

Bésame

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Tags: 18+ ONLY mdni, College AU, roommates to lovers, tooth-rotting love for this man, pussy-devouring, fingering, squirting, I wrote this in one go so you get what ya get

Word count: 2.3k- written in one, prolonged blackout

Notes: I’m fucking back bitches. I missed you, I missed this. I hope I stick around this time. This was supposed to be a blurb about squirting but the melancholy romantic won again.

Cross-posted to Ao3!

There’s something about the smell of crisp summer morning, the feeling of gentle air, humidity whispering across your face. The inescapable heat of late July is hidden from the world in its earliest hours.

“Keep up Mamí, I’m not getting stuck in the rain because you’re daydreaming.”

You pick up the pace, jogging in quick steps to catch up to Miguel. He’s farther ahead than you realized, strong muscles and wispy brown hair outlined by dark storm clouds.

Your breath is heavy, rattling against your ribs while you match the canter of Miguel’s long stride. He’s never gone easy on you, but your labored breathing makes him ease up a bit.

“What’s got your attention this morning? Or were you admiring the view behind me?” Miguel reaches up to adjust the cloth headband keeping his hair out of his face. His arms look like they’re chiseled from marble, strong, tanned skin flexes under the cutoff he wears in some iteration every morning.

Your eyes glaze over, not realizing the intensity of your gawking until Miguel’s eyes find yours. The color is deeper than usual, darker and melting into the black of his pupil. You write it off as the gloomy weather above, but he licks his bottom lip before relinquishing your stare.

You forgot what he asked you, but he doesn’t press the subject any further. Out of character, but appreciated.

“What time is your last class over tonight?” He asks, you fix your eyes on a stop sign ahead to avoid getting lost in his stare again. You see him from the corner of your eye, the angle making it seem that his gaze is focused on the bounce of your chest.

It’s just the angle, you sound even less convincing in your own head.

“Uh- well it’s Monday, so I have lab until 4:30.” You groan out the last part, ruminating on the long day ahead of you.

“My evening class got canceled for today, so I can take care of dinner tonight.”

You hum at him, his offer settles against your shoulders like honey. Something to look forward to at the end of a long day.

Sometimes he almost feels real.

He folded you into his life like melted chocolate. An easy, peaceful affection towards you since you moved in all those months ago. An offer to join his morning runs, filling a thermos of coffee for you to grab before leaving the apartment, coming home to dinner with that casual dismissal that makes your head spin.

“It’s no problem, mamí, that’s what roommates are for.” He’s always been so plain and earnest, smoothing over any objections with a sugary term of endearment and those big brown eyes.

Your heart aches so deeply when you forget that he’s just your roommate. Stabbing and twisting in your breastbone when you think about how much effort he must put in with dates.

You stop abruptly, feet cemented to the sidewalk and chest heaving rapidly. Miguel slows to a stop when he notices you missing from his side.

“Hey, don’t tell me you’re quitting, we’re two blocks from the apartment.” His voice is light, but his eyes fall from amusement to concern when he sees how hard your breath falls from your lungs.

“Whoa, what’s wrong, are you feeling okay?” He paces towards you and another deep inhale fills your senses with his musky scent instead of the rainy morning air you desperately need.

“I- I’m fine,” you struggle against the words, lifting your gaze to see Miguel’s sweat-slicked curls flop against his forehead.

You blame the early hour, or light-headedness, or a moment of delirium as your hand comes up to tuck the stray hair back under his headband.

“You’re so beautiful, Miguel.”

Your words tumble out, breaching the filter in the back of your mouth that keeps you from saying stupid shit to the man you’re stuck in a lease with.

Miguel’s breath hitches, concern falling away and filling its place with an unreadable expression. His eyes pace between your pupils, freezing the blood flowing under your skin. Why does his proximity make you act like a love-sick puppy? The frustration wells up, lining your tear ducts.

“That- I- I’m sorry.” You return his look with an awkward laugh, coughing around the lump in your throat.

Your body moves on autopilot, sidestepping his frame to make a run for it, but Miguel circles your wrist with a large palm. His skin is callused and warm as he pulls you to stand in front of him once again.

He holds you in his stare, burning eyes and the light grip of your wrist is more than enough to keep you in place.

There’s nothing more you can do but stutter around your tattered pride. Racking against your brain to find an excuse for your weird behavior. A possession? A moment of psychosis? You’ll call a priest later, but you first need to get away from Miguel and the sweet smell of cologne and sweat so you can think clearly again.

“Mi hermosa,” your balance is kicked out from under you as he holds both wrists against his chest.

Miguel’s lips dip down to you, you can almost taste his cherry chapstick as he traces his words above your mouth. You feel the first drops of rain as they hit Miguel’s cheek and bounce off your nose. Before you can taste that distinct cherry flavor, the angry crack of thunder pulls your bones from your skin.

“We need to get home,” you see a flash of lightning as it reflects in Miguel’s eyes, it splits the clouds and opens up a swollen reservoir- rain pounding down on the two of you, “we’re getting soaked Mig-“

“Say the word, Mamí,” He interrupts you, barely fazed by the storm that was ripped from your soul and clawed itself into the sky, “Tell me to fuck off and I’ll never try this again.”

Miguel drops his grip on your wrists, moving those eclipsing palms to the juncture of your neck. His lips beg for your touch once again and for the millionth time.

“Bésame.” Your accent is rigid and unpracticed, remedial at best but music to Miguel’s ears. His mouth meets yours in a wide smile, fingers finding purchase on either side of your neck.

His kiss is dripping and desperate, if you’re not careful you could drown right here and sink into the concrete.

All of the times you’ve imagined this moment are nothing compared to the real thing. He’s aggressive and hungry, licking into your mouth and vibrating your tongue with a growl.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Miguel bites at your lip before pulling away, his face is obscured in the pouring rain, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

How wrong he is, you think.

Miguel pulled you through the threshold of your shared apartment as soon as the door was unlocked, the only sense he has left is depleted- used up from keeping his composure while you fumble with your keys. His strong, broad arms circling around your waist to tug you ever closer, keeping your mouth open and whining against his.

Your feet lift from the carpet as Miguel lifts you up with the same effort as a paperweight. The feeling of his hands settling on your ass is the last pull against your unwinding composure. You’re legs wrap around his middle and you grind down hard against his abdomen.

“Fuck, I can feel your pussy through your leggings.” His words make you dizzy, grinding against him with a brainless rhythm.

“We don’t have to,” his lips trace down your neck between each word, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The sincerity in his eyes hits you squarely in the chest and moving across your skin like fever.

“Miggy, I need you. Please, anything you give me- I’ll take it.”

Your even tone shocks the both of you, the most confident you’ve sounded all morning.

“Fuck, I almost want to make you regret those words.” His teeth graze the tender spot under your chin.

“But the first thing I want is a taste of that sweet little cunt.” You’re sure your knees would buckle if Miguel wasn’t holding you, the rough tambor of his voice will be the death of you- you’ll take your chances.

Miguel carries you past the small kitchen and living area, you don’t notice where he’s sat you until he pulls his lips away from yours.

His room smells like fresh laundry and pine, the bedspread he’s set you on is tucked neatly on either side and soft under your touch. You’ve sat in this exact spot plenty of times, to study into the late night, to watch reruns of your favorite show on lazy Sunday afternoons- but never like this.

Miguel pushes you lightly so your back hits the mattress, he spreads your legs apart at the knee and you feel the tight fabric of your leggings as it shifts against your pussy.

Your running set is tight against your skin, sweat and rain covering your trembling body so that every inch is sticky and damp.

Miguel’s pointer and middle finger rub against your pussy, memorizing the outline of your plush lips under thin nylon. He’ll tuck the image into the back of his mind in case he needs it later.

“Mmm, no panties this morning,” he muses, pressing his thumb against your clit.

Miguel pulls at the fabric on your pussy, letting it snap back against your skin, you can feel the tight material drenched from your aching pussy. You want to tell him that you can hardly take this teasing, but all that comes out is a wobbly string of please, please, please.

“Don’t worry, Mamí, I’m gonna take care of you.” Your thoughts don’t catch up to him until the chill of open air hits your bare cunt. Your soaked leggings are tossed to the corner of his almost clinically clean room.

Miguel takes a moment to marvel at the sopping wet pussy he’s got trapped against his mattress.

“Que maravilla,” he kisses his words flatly against your puffy lips before coaxing them open with his nose. His face is covered in you already, glistening across his lips and chin. But it’s not enough, it won’t be enough until you drown him.

His tongue laps at you like you’re what’s keeping him alive. He kisses with his mouth open, collecting your offering to him and drinking it down with every flat lashing of his tongue.

You taste tangy and sweet, a heady mix of sweat and pheromones that pulls him in ever closer. Desperate to drink his fill of you. Every long swipe at your sloppy hole is dotted with a kiss, every inch of skin is electric- zapping against your clit with every measured nip.

Miguel’s fingers find their way to rest against your pussy, pushing in gently when he’s satisfied with how well his tongue worked you open.

Once the digits are wettened, Miguel pushes two in to the first knuckle. He groans at the feeling of how welcoming your pussy is, how responsive you are to his touch.

He licks his praises against your soft skin as your muscles relax around the thick intrusion. His vision fuzzy at the edges thinking about how you’ll take his cock. The thought is pushed back for now, lingering on it could break you when he’s just gotten started.

Your hips rock down against him, catching your clit with his wide palm.

Your whimpering emboldens him, cock weeping in the waistband of his shorts. He’s harder than he’s ever been, the frustrating ache in his balls is poured right into the quickening pace of his fingers. He needs you to break- crumble into pieces so he can put them back together.

“Miguel, fuck, I need- you need to slow down or I’m gonna“

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, Miguel is hypnotized at the sight of your pussy spilling over against him. He doesn’t relent even as you cry out and shake under him. He doesn’t miss a beat as your pussy squelches, clear liquid splashing against his chest.

“Oh fuck, you didn’t mention you’re a squirter.” His pace is torturous, pumping against that spot deep inside you that turns you into a puddle.

Once his other hand comes down to circle your clit, you know that you’re done for. The fear of letting loose like this is something that holds your rigid body from completely letting go. No one’s ever pulled you from that damn before, but Miguel has torn it down completely.

“Let go for me, Mamí, need to feel you cum against my fingers, need to see you squirt for me again.” The words drip from his mouth like hot syrup and coat your stiff muscles.

He pulls more out of you with each pump of those skilled fingers, more than you ever thought you had in you, more than you could imagine.

You cry as you cum, tears spilling over your cheeks in fat streams. The feelings you’ve kept inside for Miguel, the schoolgirl crush, the craving, the primal need all splashes against the both of you with the telltale spasm of your cunt against his fingers.

Your mind feels like it’s been dipped in wax, dripping from it’s fixed position to coat your shoulders. He makes quick work of tugging you back down to earth, lying next to your limp body with an anchoring hand on your stomach. He coos you, whispering praise into your hairline.

The sun peeks through Miguel’s window, clouds moving on to the next town and leaving the still early morning to brighten up the sky. Your face feels hot in realization.

You’ve got a long day ahead of you.

* * *

All work is mine blah blah I don’t wanna go find my old copyright thing but I’ll piss in your water supply if you steal this.

[ellieshyperfixations]

X-Men HCS Pt.2

This is with X-Men ‘97 in mind!

(Hurricane Helen Knocked out my power for a week edition! 😜)

Logan gets just straight black, coffee, the strongest the shop has.

Jubilee gets the sweetest, most diabetes inducing, would kill a Victorian man, coffee to ever exist.

She also is disgusted by Logan’s coffee, she took a sip once and hated it so much she gagged.

Also, Ororo hates coffee and is 100% a tea person.

Kurt cannot and will not sit normally. He has fallen out of chairs multiple times due to “sitting” in too weird positions.

Logan is a cat person. I will not explain.

After moving to the X-Mansion, Rogue saw snow for the first time there (It’s in NY, if I remember correctly?) and literally sat at the window staring in awe at it since it literally NEVER snows in the South

Gambit also was in a bit of awe, but not as much as Rogue.

He put a rock in a snowball and left it somewhere.

Jean doesn’t even need to use her telepathy, she just always knows when someone is planning to do something they know they shouldn’t so she just stares at them like “😐” .

Scott refuses to buy anything made from real leather or fur, only faux.

Beast gets hot very easily due to his fur, cause of this it’s like 60°F in the lab.

^^ Kurt is also in the same boat but less so. He HATES summer.

Beast and Kurt both hate summer because it’s hot and makes them sweat so their fur/fuzz gets all wet and makes them look like a porcupine-cat.

Charles leaves food & water out for the local stray cats and dogs. He also has like 8 bird feeders around the property (Birds.)

Ororo loves this (^^) and will sometimes sit on a bench and watch the birds. Birds have landed on her due to how still she goes sometimes.

Gambit never learned how to ride a bike without training wheels, just out of spite.

Beast hates alcohol.

Jean tans the best and easiest out of everyone, in the summer she has the nicest natural tan and it’s both impressive and irritating.

Logan grunts and growls obvs, but also lets out these weird kinda purrs? It sounds like if a cat smoked a pack a day for years, it’s a raspy quiet purr.

Rogue has a scar on her knee from some accident when she was kid (She changes her story every time, intentionally.)

Magneto, despite his mutation involving metal, is actually really good at wood-working.

Scott cannot fall asleep without some kind of white noise. HEAVY rain sounds is his fav.

Kurt is dyslexic.

Jean absolutely loves fall and all the “basic girl” things about it. Pumpkin spice, sweaters, etc (BTW THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT AND ANYONE WHO SAYS OTHERWISE IS JUST A JERK WHO HATES FUN.)

Gambit would own a pair of Ugg’s.

[dirthenera]

So. Let me sell you on my crack ship before canon destroys it lol

We have textual evidence suggesting that Andruil and Ghilain’nain were lovers. The more I think about it the more I love them.

One makes monsters and the other hunts monsters- but if we extrapolate on this dynamic?

Imagine Ghilain’nain- white hair and black eyes, skin almost translucent from how much time she spends in the lab, something almost insect like about her posture and movements. She forgets to eat she’s so obsessed with the next creation, the next gift to her lover.

Andruil is the opposite, muscular and tan from hunting, obsessed with not the creation, but the k**l. She hunts for the joy, for the thrill, and to feed her wisp of a lover who so often forgets to eat. She coaxes Ghilain’nain with promises to tell her how the latest experiment fought, the challenges and areas this particular creature can be improved for next time.

They’re both cruel, and monstrous. But not to each other. They only care for each other- and their love language is gifts of monsters.

[looney-mooney-studio]

Linda Flynn Fletcher/Linda Cipher throughout the years! Full image ID under the cut cuz there’s a lot of text to transcribe lol

New Astrophysicist: Eager to start her new career! Wants to prove herself after Lindana’s legacy. Craves fame on her own terms. Willing to do WHATEVER it takes! Silver jewelry. Silver star shaped earrings. Purple headband. Colorful striped shirt. Purple choker necklace. White Labcoat. Bell bottom blue jeans. Shoulder length red hair.

Dating Bill: more confident in self and career. Starts dressing more professionally, without sacrificing personal sense of style. Starts wearing gold jewelry. Yellow button up shirt. Gold triangular earrings. Yellow headband. Black choker necklace. Blue jeans. White lab coat.

Possessed by Bill: PARTY GIRL! Colleagues just think this is what she’s like when she’s drunk. Acts kinda slutty? MESSY HAIR (Bill’s not used to vessels with so much hair, so he keeps messing with it.) lineart different - more Gravity Falls style than Dwampyverse style. Doesn’t know how to wear a shirt. Lost a shoe - Linda will have to find it later. Mostly same as last design, but without the labcoat.

Pregnant: hair grows faster during pregnancy. Shows off her belly! Patches clothes - Bill starts breaking things, but she blames their body’s hormones. Design is same for both pregnancies because she just reuses her old pregnancy clothes. Same “dating bill” design, but with longer hair, a crop top, and a green patch on her blue jeans. Gold wedding ring.

Full Bill Cultist: Dresses more and more like Ford. Invests in hippy stuff. More obvious about being with Bill. Colleagues think she’s starting to go a little bit nuts, but can’t argue with her results. Red turtleneck. Tan jacket. Shoulder pads. Black slacks. Brown sneakers. Gold triangle earrings. Gold headband. Gold beaded necklace with a big triangular bill cipher charm. Gold wedding ring.

Post Breakup: doesn’t take care of self. Ironically looks more like if Bill were possessing her. Still wears yellow, but it’s washed-out. Her relationship with Bill is broken, but still fresh. Tired, trying not to sleep a whole lot. Caffeine addict. Messy hair. Green headband. Green flannel jacket. Yellow t-shirt. Tan cargo pants. Green sneakers. TIRED.

Dating Lawrence: letting herself be a little bit cringe. Having fun! Reminding herself of things she enjoys outside of what she did with Bill, like music and fiber arts. No yellow OR red. She’s being DIFFERENT for a little while. Pony tail. Black scrunchy. Teal sweater dress. White belt.black leggings. Purple leg warmers. Black sneakers. Clunky upside down teal teardrop earrings.

Now: wears yellow again, but on her OWN terms now. Isn’t afraid anymore. Trying out new things! Opted out of rings with Lawrence. They have antique lockets instead. Whole family has them, including a custom-made locket for Perry. Takes a lot of classes. Content to be a stay-at-home mom with a lot of hobbies. Her career isn’t important to her anymore, she doesn’t even have one. She’s FREE. White short sleeved button up shirt. Yellow sweater vest. Green khakis. Yellow orthopedic shoes. Peach colored headband. Teal pearl earrings.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Not my usual DpxDc, but have some fun stuff

(Just a random plot bunny about Damian getting sent to the pokemon world.)

Damian knew, deep down that he really shouldn't have gone off alone but honestly what else was he supposed to do? His father had yet to take him seriously, Richard was once again treating him like an infant and Drake wouldn't do the honorable thing and die.

Tood was the only one that took him vaguely seriously and that was solely because of the time he had spent with the League.

Cassandra was out with Brown in Shanghai, and Thomas thankfully had the correct reaction of running in fear when he entered a room!

So really, who could blame him for going out in Gotham alone.

Damian could, Damian very much was blaming himself.

Because he had been out on patrol for not even a few hours when he stumbled upon a man with a strange looking gun, muttering things and he hastily tried to unlock the door to a jewelry store.

It was supposed to be easy, the man was clearly put of his depth, Damian would swoop in, he would apprehend this criminal and then he would finally be looked upon by his father as the true son of the Bat!

Now if only it really went that way, because as Damian was sneaking along the roof of a near by building, his foot slipped, causing him to topple over the edge, landing on the filthy Gotham streets, and by the time he was able to find his footing, Damian was looking up at the criminal, only to see a beam of light hit him straight in the face.

And then there was blackness.

---

Damian woke with a start, shooting up from his position laying on...lumpy uneven forest floor? His head pounded as he stumbled up, eyes open but unseeing.

He sensed movement around him, and his hand gripped the edge of his sword as he forced his eyes to focus.

Looking to the source of the movement, Damian paused, blinking a few times as he saw a bulbous looking insect, with green chitin and a pale tan underbelly, it had massive eyes, golden and almost peering into his soul, it's red antennae wiggled as it looked at him.

It was staring up at him as much as Damian was staring down at it.

Waiting for the insect to make the first move, Damian saw it tilt its head and make a sound "Catta! Caterpie!" It was a soft sound, nervous almost as it sounded confusion.

Damians mind was working on over drive because he just got the very distinct impression that this...insect? Had just asked him a question, it had far to intelligent eyes to be a simple insect.

"I do not...understand your language." He ground out, he had yet to move his hand from his blade, but his grip on it was loosened, "and I do not know...where I am."

---

Professor Oak frowned as he looked down at the screen, there had just been a massive energy spike just around base of the Silver mountains, it was...concerning to say the least.

Sending a worried look to one of his assistants, Samuel hurried out of the lab, heading to his office the older man sat down with a huff, pulling a radio transmitter from his desk, he fiddled with the setting before clicking it on.

"Sierra Oscar 1 calling in to Ranger Dispatch over." Waiting for a response with baited breath, Samuel reread the energy signals hoping they were less dangerous than they could truly be.

"Ranger Dispatch to Sierra Oscar 1 you are coming in clear, over." A rich deep voice sounded back to him.

Letting out a small sigh, Professor Oak held up the reserver closer as he spoke, "Ranger Dispatch, we just saw a massive about of ultra wormhole energy around the Silver mountain range, coordinates to follow, advising a Ranger troupe to search for Ultra beast contact. Over."

[its-nwarden]

Ardan’s Descendants: Book 1 Demo Update

Ardan’s Descendants

Ardan’s Descendants is a WIP interactive fiction game set in the land of Ardan where the world and nearly every living thing are filled with an energy called aether. You start off as a child contained in a lab within the snow biome (one of the regions in Ardan). After escaping that prison you end up in Gairo, Lycras located in the desert biome where you’re enrolled in an academy and trained to become a member of an elite task force that’s been assigned the mission of ending the string of kidnappings taking place across all five regions of Ardan.

Having previously been a victim of the kidnappings in your younger years, this mission may help unlock the blurry memories of your past. Who were you before being kidnapped? What happened to the others who were held captive alongside you?

Features:

- Create your MC!

- Choose how you manipulate aether.

- Pick your weapon.

- Grow your MC’s Personality.

- Romance one of the 12 ROs- 6 male, 4 female, 2 nonbinary.

- Shape your story.

DEMO: (Prologue)

The ROs

Dax Ikarus(He/Him)- The Leader of your unit was born in the forest biome in the capital of Koteva. He has golden brown eyes, coily black hair cut low into a fade, and dark brown skin. Three silver earrings hang from his left ear.

There’s no denying he’s a great leader who looks after and cares for his squad. He’s quite popular amongst the trainees in the academy. He’s dead set on rising quickly through the ranks and takes his job seriously, but he’s pretty laid back when he’s around friends. Which is why it’s easy to sense he doesn’t seem to like you very much.

Noah Hendrix(He/Him)- The leader of a different unit. Comes from a wealthy and powerful family in the desert biome. The eldest of the Hendrix siblings and best friend of Dax. He has brown dreads with the sides shaved, hazel eyes, and light brown skin.

Known as the life of the party. Whereas Dax is popular, Noah is Infamous. A nonstop flirt and reckless. He may seem a little chaotic, but gets deadly serious when it comes to his siblings.

Naomi Hendrix(She/Her)- Was one of your classmates at the academy and joined your unit after graduating. The middle child of the Hendrix siblings. She has curly brown hair that’s cut into a bob, dark brown eyes, and light brown skin.

The embodiment of nope. Not really interested in the whole task force thing because she rather not be in any line of fire. When she’s not being dragged on missions you can find her at the nearest mall.

Noel Hendrix(They/Them)- Joins your unit along with Naomi. They’re the youngest of the siblings and are the most likely to take over the family business. They have curly brown shoulder-length hair, dark brown eyes, and light brown skin.

Smart, strategic, and quick on their feet. They’re not much of a fighter but if you go to them with a problem, nine times out of ten they’ll find the solution to it.

Gem Caten(He/Him)- Potentially the first friend you make at the compound. He grew up there and started going to the academy at the same time as you. He changes his hairstyle a lot, but his natural hair is straight and jet-black. He’ll usually put it in a half-updo. He has smokey black eyes and pale skin.

He’s a carefree, go-with-the-flow type of guy. His mom is the head of medicine at the compound so he kind of just naturally joined the task force.

Cameron Nadir(He/Him)- Basically lives at the compound. He’s a junior medic in training when you first meet him. He has dark blue eyes, shoulder-length blonde hair that’s shaved on the right side, and lightly tanned ivory skin. He has tattoos all along his left arm.

People’s first impression of him may be that he’s a bit of a troublemaker, which he is, but he’s also very caring.

Fay Webster(She/Her)- The team’s gear maker. Gets all the uniforms and weapons mission-ready. Born and raised in the desert biome in the city of Nelens. She has fiery red shoulder-length wavy hair, dark green eyes, and a rosy complexion.

She's creative, outgoing, and her mind runs a mile a minute coming up with new ideas. She admires the members of the task force and does her best to supply them with the latest technology.

Audrey Rokk(She/Her)- An ambassador of the water biome. Was born in the snow biome but moved to the water biome for work. She has naturally blonde and long silky hair, but she dyed it blue. Her eyes are light blue and has an olive skin tone.

Honest and hard-working. Unlike the majority of government officials you've met, she's down to earth and seems to care about more than just her own personal gains.

LIMITED DATA

Vin(He/Him)- You met him as a child at the lab. He had ivory skin and dark brown eyes, but his right eye had speckles of blue in it. His straight dark brown hair went a little bit past his shoulders and was pulled back into a bun.

You vividly remember how soft-spoken he was. He would cling to anyone in your little group that would allow him to.

Yara(She/Her)- She is the first kid you met in the lab. She had long dark brown braids, dark brown skin, and amber eyes.

You remember her being aloof and unwilling to get involved in any of the other's shenanigans.

Zeke(He/Him)- Was brought to the lab a year after you were. He had short slightly curly black hair, green eyes, and pale skin.

He was always grumpy, but one thing he seemed to enjoy was giving you a hard time.

Iris(They/Them)- An assassin you meet on a mission in the water biome. They have white hair, stormy grey eyes, and very pale skin.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

↳ notes: forgot how good this movie series was. going to be thinking about it quite a bit these few coming days. especially egon! favorite character by far, with winston in next place

↳ song: main title theme (ghostbusters)—elmer bernstein

masterlist | commisions | carrd

• When a flyer for a job downtown mysteriously appeared in your mailbox slot, your first thought was to throw it away

• It looked scrappy. Par on course with the rest of the junk mail companies normally delt out to catch your eye

• Still. Three days later you were standing outside a mildly reevaluated looking firehouse with the paper clutched loosely in your hand, and your best clothes on

• As you’d walked towards the doors, a man came up from behind you, uttering an apology as he nearly bumped into you

• “Hey,” He had paused, allowing you to catch a glance of his tan suit and kinky black hair. “You here for an interview, too?” He asked, walking through the large off-green door as you held it open for him

• “Sure am.”

• “Well, may the best one win. Or get the job, I suppose.” He chuckled with a lopsided grin

• "I dont think they’ll mind hiring the both of us." You eventually responded, looking up at the way the ceiling sagged with old age

• Following your line of sight, the man beside you nodded deeply, and the both of you made your way up to a reception desk with a very annoyed looking lady behind it

• That was the day both you, and who you later learned to be Winston, got the job as the newest pair of Ghostbusters

• “Meet back here tomorrow at noon.” The snappy lady with glasses had said monotonly as she thrust a set of papers at you. You were still looking in the direction that two yelping men in jumpsuits had just gone holding a machine, that it took you a second to notice

• “With the way this job is looking? No way I’m missing tomorrow.”

• Meeting your employers slash coworkers for the first time— technically second if you counted the way two of them crashed your interview mid hiring —was certainly an experience

• Only one had been prepared for both you and Winston’s first days with a handshake and slightly unbuttoned lab coat

• He had introduced himself as doctor Egon Spengler, and shook your hand with a certain rigidness to it. Still, you caught him looking at the both of you with curiosity, so you tossed him an easy upward twitch of you lips. He seemed to relax a little after that

• The other two, however, had proved to be more difficult upon meeting

• Ray Stanz and Peter Venkman were certainly a pair, with the latter sure to be the cause of later headaches, but seemed friendly anyways—if the way they slapped you on the back said anything

• “Welcome to the nerd squad.” Peter has smiled teasingly at you, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you close as if he was about to tell you a secret. “Stick with me, and you’ll be kicking it with the cool kids!”

• “Is he always like this?” You asked while pushing him away

• “Regrettably.” Egon responded in a flat tone as he moved back to statistics on a chart. “Try being roommates with him in college for six years.”

• “No thanks. I think I’d rather get possessed by one of those ghosts you guys hunt.”

• “Hey, still here!”

• You fell right into place with them pretty quickly after that. Something about getting slimed by a poltergeist in Central Park really brings a group of people together. Especially if they happen to get a really good meal of Thai right after

• In the days weeks and months following your hiring, you get to learn a lot about the little team you’d been squished into

• Winston was probably the first one you befriended. Maybe because the both of you had showed up around the same time, but you found him one of the easiest to just sit down and talk to after a mission without being interrupted every two sentences. The other guys were great, but he seemed to appreciate a little peace and quiet more than what you got in the headquarters

• “Seriously— do we have to call it the headquarters?” You interrupted Peter in the middle of his rant. Sipping on a cup of coffee, you took a moment before speaking more. It really was too early for this. “I mean, come on. It makes us sound like bizzaro superhero’s. More than we already do, anyway.”

• “Personally I wouldn’t mind playing a little Bruce Wayne every now and then.” Peter grinned back suggestively. From beside you, Ego let out his equivalent of an annoyed sigh as he tinkered with stray machinery. Apparently someone else felt it was too early for Peters antics, too

• “Gag me with a spoon.” You deadpanned while swirling your mug around moodily

• “Fine fine. We can call it home base. Happy, sunshine?”

• You grumbled at his sickeningly sweet tone before delving back into your coffee, missing the way Ray and Winston shared slight smiles at the exchange

• “Now that you four are done, mind helping me with our actual jobs?”

• “Oops. Yeah. Sorry Egon.”

• “Sigh.”

[thr0wnawayy]

Writing Exercise: White Lies and Black Truths

(Stand Alone Oneshot)

Tora Kuro. Better known as the villain, Sombra.

20 accounts of first degree murder, 8 accounts of armed robbery, 7 accounts of extortion and bribery and 2 separate accounts of conspiracy.

'Another Crook without a license, made sense that they'd turn eventually.' Enji thought to himself assuringly.

He was walking down the prison ward of the hospital. Looking for the room containing his latest capture.

He didn't know why she was sent here instead of rotting in prison like the trash she was. All he was told about the judge was that she had a "bad feeling".

Of course it was a woman...

Tora was as crazy as Rei used to be. Only somehow more annoying, given that she actually used her quirk for something that wasn't pathetic. She had to be kept in a specialized chamber to avoid any damages.

As for her quirk, no one knew. That's why he sought her, he wanted to burn her thoroughly but it appears the woman has certain protections.

He opened the door. The room was oddly lit. Sea green lights shone from the walls and it wasn't nearly enough to light up the entire chamber. The floor was tiled like the rest of the ward, sky blue with black etching.

There wasn't much besides that. The room just looked like a more fortified version of a hospital room, complete with a nightstand and heart monitor.

What was most important were the two people in the room. An average looking man in a lab coat and Tora. They seemed to be in the midst of a conversation.

"You're of Japanese-Mexican descent, you are 23 years old and have naturally tanned skin. Is that enough?" The doctor quirks an eyebrow.

She smiles smugly "Venezuelan."

The man grunts in irritation as he seivles in his chair, changing his tune immediately as he notices Endeavor.

"Ahh Endeavor-sama, welcome. Here to question your latest capture."

It wasn't a question.

Tora spoke up from behind. "I'd like to speak to my lawy-"

"Seeing as your the Number Two hero, I can't stop you. But a word of advice be careful, she gets to you." He whispered the last part like a prayer, then left the room.

The door locked from the outside, finally they were alone.

"You know, most Woman wouldn't take so kindly to being left alone with a man such as yourself." Tora commented looking him up and down with an unimpressed gaze.

"What is your quirk?" Enji boomed, earing no time.

"Read the clip board. I ain't your lab rat, puta." The felon hissed.

Enji ripped it from the end of the bed, looking it over.

+++++

Name: Kuro, Tora (AKA: Sombra)

Age: 23, DOB unknown.

Status: Vigilante: Formerly. S Rank Villain: Currently

Quirk: Obscura (unknown properties, seems to use fear to power it. Likely a Emitter-type quirk. Subject to tighter regulations as for all illusionary quirks)

+++++

Enji chuckled dismissively. "Illusions? That's it, no wonder you lost with a quirk like that."

The villainess shrugged. "You're getting tired."

"What?" the Flame "hero" questioned incredulously

"Your bluffing, you have been since you walked into the room. Tú eres poco paseas no me convence, desgraciado.

"Speak proper Japanese, woman." He found himself getting more and more irritated by the second.

She grinned, her eyes narrowing. "Your full of shit."

He grabbed her forearm in his hand, planning to intimidate her.

He readied his quirk to leave a light burn, only to feel it was his hand that was growing hot instead.

Her arm suddenly set ablaze, so much so that even Endeavor has to back away from the heat.

The smell of burning pork fills the room, seeping into the clothes of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the room. Burns littered the soon-to-be prisoner's forearm, completely destroying the sleeve of her jumper.

Why did the smell remind him so much of- "Touya."

"Well, well. Looks like someone's got something on their mind, anything you want ot share with the class Endeavor?" Sombra spoke as placed a hand on her cheek, propping herself up.

...

"That is none of your business." Enji growled.

Sombra tilted her head like a curious puppy. "Oh but I think it is. Just what horrors are you hiding in that manor of yours? One can only dream."

Enji scowled ar her, this was pointless.

"And you'll continue to dream, as you rot in a cell, while I'm at the top" Enji huffed, turning to exit. Only stopped by what Sombra added next.

"Dont talk to me about dreams when your's taste so rotten, Wife beater."

Endeavor aggressively turned to face her, trying to look manic to hide the spiking fear in his eyes.

"My diagnosis is wrong, you know. My quirk isn't limited to only bringing fears to reality. It knows why too." Her gaze held steady as she spoke with certainty.

"Your fear isn't just about Touya. It's the idea that he's still out there, waiting to expose the bodies under your floorboards for what they really are. What you really are."

Tora carried on, her body language becoming more and more pronounced as made her case. That only made Enji more irate.

"SHUT UP!" Enji's flames roared to life, thrashing like an unruly child.

"A fraud."

Enji froze, his rage and flames extinguishing as if he was dumped into freezing water.

Sombra seemed to slump slightly.

"See, the fact that being called a fraud instead of a child abuser or rapist is what stuns you, really shows how twisted you are."

"Don't compare yourself to me" Enji growled half heartedly. Trying desperately to regain his footing.

"Don't compare the blood on my hands, when even your elbows are slick. Sombra glared.

Enji's fist tightend at his side. "That's enough, none of this will matter when I'm at the top."

There was a beat. Suddenly Sombra broke out into laughter, startling Enji more than it should have.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Her voice seemed to overlap with another's. She tilted her head back as she cackled, almost contorting herself backwards.

"Y-your so god-damn pathetic." She wheezed out between giggles, now clutching her stomach.

"Stop it." Enji warned. Somber looked up still mocking him.

"No wonder they've abandoned you." She guffawed, eyes wide with glee!.

Enji charged in fury. Sombra's black hair shifting to white for a brief moment. Her eyes a discordant grey.

"I SAID SHUT U-"

Then he was out cold.

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

He woke up on his backside, crowded by medical staff. Though there was shrill ringing in his head and his vision swimmed, he knew he had to be in Sombra's chamber.

The heart monster screeched as it's cables hung discarded. The bed lay empty. The villain was gone. The tiles felt colder than usual.

They were telling him she escaped, that she seemingly vanished into thin air right before their eyes. But that didn't matter.

Because there, in the corner of his eye he could see Rei. Rope burn taut around her neck, dull yet hateful look in her eyes. Telling him that she knew, she knew what he took from her.

He was Scared.

_______________________________________

[lxstfathier]

Heat

Cowboy! Alejandro Vargas x Horse Hybrid! Reader

Summary: you’re given to Alejandro as a gift, soon becoming an important piece in his new life as a lonely cowboy. But things get out of hand when you get your first heat.

Warnings: slight degradation, unprotected sex, p in v, pussy slapping, breeding kink, corruption.

A/N: i absolutely love the hybrid!reader fics that i see around here, but they’re always a puppy or a bunny, so i decided to write one with a horse reader and finally here it is, i hope you all enjoy reading this just as much as i enjoyed writing it! 💗 (and before y’all come at me, no, this is not zoophilia and i don’t expect it to look like it)

Soon after catching Valeria, Alejandro decided to leave the military, leaving Rudy as the colonel of los vaqueros, opting for a more peaceful life away from violence.

He bought a nice house in the outskirts of las almas, with lots of land to plant and raise cattle. So, once he moved in to his new home, he put his hands at work to get everything nice and perfect, planting some seeds and acquiring some animals, just starting with some chickens, a small herd of cows and two horses.

His new life in the middle of nowhere seemed to go just right, like dream come true. That’s until, one day, he received a gift.

A black truck came into his property, saying that the had a special present from another high-ranked colonel in the mexican military that he used to know. And how could he deny such thing? of course it would be something to be grateful for.

However, nothing could have prepared him for when he saw you for the first time.

Getting out from the backseat, you finally put your feet on the dry soil, looking at Alejandro with big innocent eyes as he admired every single inch of your body. Hell, you were definitely a rare sight, one of a kind. He had never seen a hybrid before, and you looked almost human, but those pointy ears and long tail revealed your true nature.

“A beautiful young mare” that’s what the strange men told him you were, created in a laboratory with the most pure and strong bloodline. But to Alejandro? you were just a pretty girl who slightly resembled to a horse.

So he took you under his care, even though he knew nothing about hybrids and you were too shy to speak to him for several days, still not used to being out of the horrible lab where you were raised for almost two decades.

First, being careful not to scare you, Alejandro showed you around, all the way from his house to the vast land surrounding it, introducing you to the other animals there, with whom you connected immediately. Then, he prepared a stall for you to use every night, using extra wood shavings to make it more comfortable.

And, with such kind treatment, it wasn’t long until you started trusting your new owner.

Two weeks later, you got out of your stall by your own, running on the field with the other horses, hanging out with the cows and their little calves, or simply just sitting in the grass every evening, enjoying the last rays of sun while you watch Alejandro from afar, admiring the way he unloads bales of hay from his truck, shirtless, with his tanned skin and strong muscles glistening under the orange sky.

Sometimes you even eat diner with him on his kitchen, chomping on a bowl of grain and carrots while he eats whatever he finds, hearing him talk about all those interesting stories from his days in the military.

It all went well for a while, enjoying the time spent together, just getting to know each other. Until everything got complicated again.

After a few months, when your body reaches full maturity, you get your first heat. Something that you’re so innocent and naive to even understand what is going on. You feel weird all day, with a strange tingle between your legs and a sensitive hot skin, aching for any kind of relief.

So you ask Alejandro for help, thinking that an experienced man like him should know what to do in that situation, but he refuses every time, telling you to just get some rest till it goes away.

And you try, you really try, but by the end of the week it’s unbearable, growing desperate and needy, clenching your thighs together, almost whimpering in pain at the slightest friction.

It’s practically a torture for both of you. And he finally snaps when he sees you there, leaning on the fence, mindlessly trying to flirt with his stallions, even though the poor animals can’t smell your hormones due to your mixed dnas.

“Can you stop being a little whore for at least five minutes?” Alejandro grabs you by your arm, practically dragging you away from there, clearly fed up with all that.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, i- i don’t know what’s going on, i just want to feel better” you apologize, still not quite used to that new change in your body, looking up at him with teary eyes and flopped ears. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

He’s not mad, he’s just pent up after all those days of teasing. But he understands you, he knows full well that you’re going through something difficult and suffering because of it, and he doesn’t like to see his animals suffer.

“Then tell me what do you need to feel better” he says, as if he didn’t knew exactly what, letting go of your arm to caress your cheek and run his thumb over your pouted lips.

You don’t know exactly how to put it into words, but you try your best to communicate your needs and not get distracted by his pretty brown eyes, that delicate caress, or his bare torso where you can clearly see his toned muscles.

“Touch me. Please.”

“Así?” Alejandro asks, a smirk appearing on his face as one of his hands gets under your shirt to play with your tits and the other one finds its way between your legs, exploring your soaked folds.

You just nod, unable to speak, feeling as if you were about to melt from his touch, holding on to his strong arm for some stability.

“You’ve been such a tease for days. Whoring yourself out for everyone here to see, and do you know what happens to little whores like you? huh? they get treated like one.”

You can’t process his words, you’re out of your mind already, but you’re willing to let him do whatever he wants to you, as long as he keeps giving you that sweet relief that you’ve been craving all week.

Alejandro smirks, almost mocking how pliant you are him, easily pushing you with his arm until your back hits a pile of hay bales. Now totally cornered and slightly scared, feeling your prey instincts come to surface.

Then, he grabs you by the waist, effortlessly lifting you up to make you sit on top of a few bales, just at the perfect height for him to spread your legs and admire that pretty pussy between your legs, all swollen and slick, practically dripping with arousal.

“Look at you, hermosa. So fucking wet. Who would have thought that such a innocent creature would be a total slut begging for cock.” he says, placing a few hard smacks to your sensitive cunt, making you squirm and whine with each impact.

“Please” you cry, trying to stop his hand.

“Please what?”

“F-fuck me Ale. Please, i need it.” you plead, looking up at him with teary eyes, wanting nothing more than to end your agony.

“Si?” Alejandro smiles, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, letting his hard cock spring free. “You want me to breed this little pussy?”

He wraps a fist around his length, dragging the tip along your slit, mixing his pre cum with your sweet juices. And the pure sight of that big veiny cock teasing you poor cunt is enough to make you clench around nothing.

You buck your hips, encouraging Ale to put it in already. And he does it, being kind enough to decide that it’s been enough torture for you, guiding his fat cock to your entrance, sliding it inside inch by inch, growling when he feels how tight you are around him.

There’s a slight stinging in the way he’s splitting you open, stuffing you so full and deep that you can almost feel him in your guts, but you like it, even if your eyes get teary and pained cries escape your lips.

“Tranquila hermosa. Let me take care of you, si?” he soothes you once he’s fully sheathed inside, caressing your fluffy ears as he kisses you softly, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

Alejandro starts thrusting slow, just to get you adjusted to him, and also because he doesn’t want the moment to end so soon. If he could be buried in your warm cunt for an eternity, he would, without a second thought.

But, when both of you start to get eager for more, he picks up a fast pace. His thrusts become harder, impaling you with his girth over and over, making you feel as if you were about to break in half, but at the same time, an immense pleasure with each hit against that soft spot deep inside you.

It’s too much. You break the kiss to moan loudly, digging your nails on the soft skin of his back, already knowing that you won’t last any longer.

And he can tell quite easily that you’re close by the way your walls hug him tight and your body tenses. So he gives you a little help, moving a hand down to rub your clit with his thumb, in fast circular motions that have you screaming out his name.

“Ale! f-feels so good! ah! i’m- i’m gonna-“

You can’t even finish your incoherent babbles when the orgasm hits you, exploding with waves of pleasure, crying and shaking under him, with you arousal being enough to form a creamy ring at the base of his cock.

“That’s it, good girl” Alejandro praises you, slowing his thrusts for a few seconds while you ride out your high. “Now i’m gonna pump you full of my cum, and you’re gonna carry my child and be a good mommy, si? you want that?”.

You’re so cockdrunk that you can only nod, just being able to concentrate on how his hands keep your legs open, the way he fucks you with new newfound strength, abusing your tiny hole, and the filthy squelching noises between your bodies.

Alejandro mumbles curses in spanish while you whine from the overstimulation, and it’s not long until his thrusts lose rhythm, finally coming undone. His cock twitches inside your warm cunt, flooding your fertile womb with thick ropes of white seed as a deep grunt escapes from his throat.

He ruts into you for a while, enjoying the delicious sensation, and then slowly pulls out, keeping your legs open to admire the mess. Your pussy is absolutely wrecked, with slick smeared all over it, slightly sore and dripping with his cum. And he’s proud of it.

“You’re feeling better?” he asks, rubbing your trembling thighs and fixing his pants.

“Yeah. A little bit” you answer shyly, knowing that it’s going to take more than that to calm your heat.

“Well, i guess that we’ll have to do this all weekend. Until your heat is gone, or until you give me a little filly… or a strong colt, i don’t care.”

You smile at his comment, not caring about it either, anything sounds good to you. But Alejandro is not shy to hide his desire to be a father, in love with the idea of having a lovely kid just like you, with ears and tail, running around the farm.

But, for now, he has to take care of you, his precious little mare. So he takes you in his arms, carrying your exhausted body to the house as you cling to his neck, ready to give you a nice bath, braid your hair and dress you with another clean shirt.

All while thinking that you are definitely the best gift that he has ever received.

[nymphomatique]

I NEED MORE OF LOSER NERD MIGUEL PLEASEEEEE YOU'VE AWAKENED SOMETHING IN ME

ask and you shall receive they say! here’s some more word vomit 2 hold u over while the full fic is loading 🤭

cw: mean reader LOL she calls miguel a bitch, foot humping, spit, shoe licking🫣, d/s play, miguel is down horrendous, hair pulling. might have missed smt but oh well. also this isn’t proofread oops lolz. but enjoy!! 💋

in #my opinion i think that loser boy miguel is into the degrading stuff. like the more embarrassing it is for him the more it turns him on.

setting the scene for you: miguel is over at your dorm doing you online lab work for you on your laptop while you’re getting ready to go out. naturally you have on the skimpiest number, tits out, ass out, the body is hypnotic, the whole nine.

miguel steals glances of you because while you may be a little bit of a bitch sometimes, god were you beautiful. you catch him staring and sneer at him and it makes him blush and duck his head down once more to do his- your homework.

the finisher? the heels you put on. they’re patent black pumps, red bottoms naturally. and miguel absolutely loses it. he feels his dick start to twitch in his sweats instantly and is already blushing a furious red.

“what’s got you excited, dweeb?” you tease, putting on your earrings. “bet your little nerd dick got hard looking at me, huh.”

he doesn’t say anything and just blushes even more and you laugh because he really is hard! nerd or not, one thing you can’t deny is the meat miguel is packing. you could fit some fun for the two of you before your uber came, if you were fast that is.

“promise it’s not cus i’m a perv.. i swear.. you look nice. s’all.” miguel sputters under your intense gaze.

“yeah? what part of me do you think looks the nicest, hmm?” you say while sauntering over him. he looks down at your shoes silently and you see the tent in his pants twitch. “you got a fucking shoe fetish, freak?” you giggle.

“n-no! it’s not-” he tries but you’re already thinking of how to embarrass him.

“don’t lie to me. you like the mommy dom shit, huh? well, come hump mommies foot.” you say standing only two feet away from where he’s sitting on the bed. he stares up at you with his glasses widening his already blown out eyes. “or don’t. i don’t have all day.”

with that he moves your laptop aside and strips down to his briefs. he makes his way to walk over to you but an idea strikes you. “crawl to me.”

and crawl he does, his tan skin and blooming back musculature making it’s way towards you on all fours.

“good boy. kiss my shoes and thank them before you start.” you say, your downcast gaze holding all the same authority and tension as your tone. he places both of his hands on the floor and begins to lower his lips to your shoe, his full lips making contact with your shoe.

“t-thank you, mistress, f- for letting me use your shoe to get off.” he says shakily, eyes averting your gaze. your mouth pulls into a small smile at his pathetic display. you almost laugh.

“i’m pleased. you may begin.” and miguel wastes no time, his swollen dick making itself seen in his boxer print. once again, you find yourself impressed at the heavy dick miguel packs. you figure it was probably given to him in place of a backbone. he scoots until his length is at the tip of your leather clad toes and he slowly begins to grind against your foot, letting out soft exhales of air.

“hurry up, i don’t have all day.” you spit, getting a little impatient at the time he’s taking. wordless, he speeds up his humping at your foot, his hand coming up to your leg, gripping your calf and the other hand placed palm down next to your foot to steady himself. as he speeds up, his moans come out louder and more frequently, his praises seeming to slip in with them.

you’re greatful for his height, because even on his knees, the top of his head reaches your lower stomach. you grab a fist full of his thick hair and jerk his head back so he can face you, and his expression sends a wave of heat through you. his face is flushed, eyes watering, mouth open spilling out moans of “thank you, mistress, so g-good.. i’m your good boy.. wanna be good..”

“wanna be good, huh? open your mouth for me then,” and without hesitation, he opens his mouth to you, and you spit into his mouth, some hitting the corner of his lip. “close your mouth and swallow it, bitch boy.” ever so eager to follow instructions, he does with a sated expression on his face. your spit seems to have excited him more, considering he’s fully thrusting against your foot now.

“c-can i cum please mistress? it hurts so bad. n-need it please, need you. f-fuuuck,” his pleading makes something in your chest tighten, seeing the power you have over this six foot two hunk of musculature beneath you, jumping at your foot like a depraved animal. he’s looking up at you, your hand still present in his messy hair, and with a cruel smile, you allow him to cum. “cum for your mistress.”

with a few more thrusts, he releases a heavy moan and cums into his briefs, occasionally twitching during his come down. before he gets a chance to speak, you push him off your leg and place a shoe to his balls, pressing ever so slightly, releasing a pert whimper out of miguel. “you made a mess of my louboutins.” you say flatly. “clean them.”

he takes no time to get on his knees and begin to lick your heel clean of his semen. you laugh at the sight, and even more when you see he’s sporting the beginning of another erection.

“fucking pathic,” you chortle. with your uber outside, you push your heel against his forehead and begin to walk away to get your purse as if nothing happened. “finish my homework and get the fuck out, if i see you’re still here when i get back, you’re cleaning the soles of my shoes next.” and with that, you leave your dorm with miguel in his soiled underwear on your floor, and your shoes sporting a new shine.

[thicctails]

><((((º>‿︵‿︵‿︵Undercurrent‿︵‿︵‿︵<º))))><

A Merformers x Reader Fanfiction

Chapter 2 ° Coastguard

Blessed be Randy the coffee machine, your holy god of caffeine. May His hazel liquid flow eternally into graceous Bartholomew, vessel of Randy's divine lifeblood; discount noname brand coffee that had expired last week.

Taking another sip of your beloved breakfast drink, you forced yourself to walk towards the greeting area of your clinic, praying to any deity that was listening that you looked at least passably presentable. You'd taken far longer to pull yourself away from the tender embrace of your nearly flat air mattress than you should have, and both your nerves and back were paying for it.

The head researcher of A.E.R.O. was meeting with you today to discuss your collaboration effort with them, and finally tell you exactly what species you'd be getting to work with. You hoped it would be something exciting, like sharks, dolphins, whales, or nudibranchs.

Taking a shaky breath, you shoved your anxiety down into the pit of your gut where it could, hopefully, only be noticed by you as your hand grasped the handle of the door. You pulled, ready to take the first proper step towards your new life.

Ka-thunk!

Ah. It was a push door.

Willing the colour that had suddenly flooded your cheeks to kindly fuck off, you meekly pushed the door open.

A man was standing in the main entrance room, leaning against Desk the desk and scrolling through something on his phone. He was dressed fairly casual for someone in his position, sporting tan cargo shorts, a forest green t-shirt, and a black lab coat, his company's acronym emblazoned in crisp vinyl across his breast pocket. He had tousled light brown hair and deep brown eyes that were framed by square glasses. At the sound of your approach, he lifted his gaze from his cellphone and gave you a warm smile, pocketing the device and turning his body towards you.

"Doctor L/N! It's nice to finally meet you!" he greeted, extending his hand to you. "My name is Dr. Burns, but please, just call me Graham."

Though it had been difficult to tell sometimes, you had not actually been raised by a pack of rabid wolves, so you returned the gesture, gripping the man's hand and giving it a shake.

"It's a pleasure to acquatence your make."

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Hey, God? Could you do a little smiting? Yeah, right here please.

"I- I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't mean to say that." You managed to get out, almost shocked that you hadn't fucked that sentence up as well.

Breaking News! Local PhD holder flubbs basic greeting! Becomes World Champion speedrunner for ruining first impressions and instantly loses any chance of being considered for further employment and any shred of respect this man had for them!

"It's fine. Honestly, I was just as nervous as you when I first started." Graham laughed, startling you out of your own mental spiral, "I was so preoccupied with my own worries that I tripped and fell face first into a pool on my first day."

You stared at Graham for a moment, stunned that he was still talking to by choice and not out of obligation, before a small, strangled chuckle left your throat, sounding more like the dying squak of a strangled seabird than a laugh.

"Come on, the rest of the team is waiting for us in town." the brunette said, gesturing for you to follow him.

You arched a brow but obediently followed after him, trailing after the researcher like a duckling waddling after a pair of boots.

"Oh? I was under the impression this meeting was to discuss my contract." you replied, trying to scrape together a professional-ish sentence while simultaneously praying that you weren't coming off as rude.

"It is, but once everyone got wind that we would be working with someone new, they got a little," he paused, hand waving about as he searched for the right word, "excited. It's been a while since anyone besides Marissa worked close enough for us to talk to them on a semi-regular basis."

"Can't wait to meet them!" you said cheerfully, lying through your teeth.

The idea of having to interact with another human being today had been draining enough, but to have to converse with several? When their opinions of you could impact your career?

Your hands twitched around Bartholomew's smooth, ceramic body, wishing you'd added a few ounces of pure caffeine to your coffee. Maybe you'd get lucky and get struck by a bus.

Unfortunately, God wasn't known for being kind to you, so you arrived at a small diner completely unharmed.

The worn bell above the door dinged as you and Graham stepped inside, the smell of greasy fries and cheap burgers wafting all around you as he led you over to one of the booths, the cracked red leather seats occupied by three other people in various states of dress.

There was a younger woman with russet skin and shockingly red hair that was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few hairclips keeping her bangs out of her bright blue eyes. She was dressed in a cream and light orange dress, matching knee-high boots complementing her outfit. She was scrolling on her phone, but put the device down when she noticed your approach.

Ah, the mortifying feeling of being known. It never failed to make you uncomfortable.

The other two, who were seemingly in the middle of seeing who could chug a milkshake faster, were men, light skinned and with almost identically brown hair. It was easy to pick them apart, though, seeing as one was built like a brick shithouse and looked as though he was cosplaying some strange cross between a soldier and a Ghostbuster, and the other was a twink that also happened to be absolutely rocking some sun-bleached overalls and a set of the most obnoxiously yellow rubber boots you'd ever seen in your entire life.

"Hey, dingbats!" the woman hissed, nudging her closest colleague, who happened to be the rubber boots guy, "The new vet is here!"

While the two guys attempted to swallow their drinks without getting a brain freeze, Graham gave you a somewhat sheepish smile. "Dr. L/N, I'd like to introduce you to Doctor Sari Sumdac, Doctor Spike Witwicky, and Doctor Blaine L. Parker."

"Mainframe." Blaine said, slamming his cup down with a satisfied sigh, "Call me Mainframe. Only my Mama calls me Blaine."

"I'm still good with Spike." the other man chimed in, extending his hand to you as you and Graham slid into the opposite booth seat. You shook it, quickly repeating the action with Sari and Mainframe.

"So, you're the new guy, eh?" Mainframe asked, "We've been waitn' for Marissa to finally pick someone. She's too picky, if you ask me."

"Not picky enough if she hired you." Sari shot back, and for a moment you stiffened, afraid you were about to have front row seats for a fight, but Mainframe's laughter and Sari's teasing expression quickly calmed your nerves. She looked back at you, her face taking on a more genuine look, "He's not wrong about us waiting, though. A.E.R.O. has been around for a few years now, but you're the first vet we've gotten assigned to work with us."

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening slightly in surprise before you remembered to shut it, "Really? Why?"

The gathered marine biologists looked at each other for a moment, before Spike leaned in closer to you. You matched his action, wondering what exactly he had to say.

"Did Marissa fill you in on what exactly A.E.R.O. means?" he asked in a low whisper.

You thought for a moment, then shook your head. Actually, your employer had told you very little, just enough to get you to sign a contract with her. You didn't regret your decision; anything would be better than the place you'd come from, but this secrecy did make you wonder what exactly you'd gotten yourself into.

"A.E.R.O.," Spike continued, "stands for Aquatic Extraterrestrial Research Outpost."

You blinked, leaning back as you turned over what Spike had just told you. Had you heard him correctly? No, surely not. Clearly you hadn't had enough coffee yet.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, chuckling a little "I must still be a bit groggy, because I thought you said extraterrestrial for a moment there."

The four shared another look, then once again focused their attention back on you.

"You heard correctly, Dr. L/N." Graham said, producing an envelope from the interior of his jacket. He quickly glanced around the diner, before sliding the envelope over to you. He continued speaking as you picked it up, hands shaking slightly.

"Five years ago, several objects from deep space suddenly entered our atmosphere and crashed into the Atlantic Ocean. It was presumed that they were abnormal meteors of some kind, but a government owned dive team discovered that they were actually pods of some kind, made of materials not found on Earth.

"They were empty by the time they were found, but not long after they were discovered and retrieved, strange signals began to be picked up by sonar sensors, and sailors around this area began to report seeing bizzare creatures swimming beneath their boats, some of them claiming that their vessels were attacked, which was corroborated by several documented cases of boats coming in with scratch marks on their hulls."

You opened the envelope and reached inside, withdrawing several polaroid photographs. Each one was of a different boat, ranging from dinky little sailboats to bulky fishing trawlers. However, they all shared one unique feature; a set of deep gouges that tore through wood and metal, left behind by something that had to be absolutely huge.

Well shit, slap a tinfoil hat on your head and call you a believer, because there wasn't much in the ocean that had claws to begin with, and certainly nothing with claws large enough to do that kind of damage.

As you began to tuck the photos back into the envelope, you noticed that one of them was drastically different. It was blurry, taken on the coast during what looked like a storm, but not even those hindrances could mask the appearance of the... thing that had been captured on camera.

It was big. Like, really big.

The closest thing you could compare it to would be some kind of whale, but it looked so wholly unlike any species you knew of that you immediately tossed that idea out the window. It had a long, silvery body, covered in large, armour-like scales that almost gave the appearance of it being segmented. Thick, spiny fins jutted out along most of its tail, purple webbing torn and ragged. It's upper half was obscured, as the creature was diving back down beneath the surface, but the very beginnings of its torso hadn't quite been submerged when the photo was taken, and you could see a long row of crimson gills that glowed in the moonless dark.

"What the fuck." you breathed out, shoving the photos back into the envelope before tossing it away from you like you were playing the world's strangest game of Hot Potato.

"Yeah, that was pretty much our reaction too." Sari said, picking up the envelope. "We've been calling that one 'The Meg', since you could almost mistake it for an overgrown shark, if you only caught a glimpse of it.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned softly as you considered everything you'd just been told.

"Let me get this straight," you started slowly, dragging your hand down your face before resting it on your chin, "You and Marissa want me to find a way to study and treat a highly aggressive, barely studied, extremely dangerous alien, let me repeat that for you, alien species with no prior experience and, since you four work at a separate facility, no team?"

A pregnant silence met your question for a moment, before being broken by a very timid, very nervous "Yes?" from Graham, who was rubbing the back of his head.

You looked at him, looked at the rest of his team, looked at the exit of the diner, and considered your options; accept this batshit insane, borderline suicidal offer and risk getting torn limb from limb by sea monsters from beyond the stars, or move back in with your parents.

"Well Christ on a bike, sign me up." you replied, before snagging the nearby coffee pot and, after checking that it wouldn't give you third degree burns, chugged the whole damn thing, determined to get enough caffeine in your body to drown out that little voice in your head that alway nagged that you should have been a lawyer.

[paintedkinzy-88]

Lust's bro coming home after a date with his bf only to find a large golden noodle curled up around Lust both asleep. Blue in the kitchen cooking and Ink in his half form doodling surrounded by half a dozen sketchbooks.

Stfu that’s actually hilarious hold on—

Warning for. Suggestive topics in the background, I suppose. It is Underlust. I tried to keep it PG, but also I’m very tired so eh ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Writing jumpscare boo

“Sans, I will be completely honest with you. I do not know what I am looking at.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to describe it, either. Papyrus’ brother has always been an… interesting character, to put it lightly. And he doesn’t mean that in any negative way! Stars knows the Great Papyrus would never settle with normal, especially in the world they live in. “Normal” here was extravagant, in-your-face, and exceedingly too personal. It had to be, unfortunately, for all of their survival.

Sans, however, found a way to be all of that, but so much better. He knows everything and everyone, flaunts his stuff like there’s no tomorrow, can party with the best of them and put on incredible shows every other night at Grillby’s. He’s memorable, in ways Papyrus just cannot understand, but deeply admires. And above all else, Sans is respectful.

Sure, he is the biggest piece of fruit on the grapevine, collecting gossip like it’s a national treasure, but he knows when to share and what to keep to himself. He’s become a safe space for many monsters, for better or worse, able to pick apart their walls and façades like they’re just a big game of Jenga. Papyrus has seen him do it too many times to count. He’s able to pick out the one monster in the crowd that’s clearly trying to drink away all their feelings for the sake of a party, and coerce them into cutting off their tab, talking it out in the bathroom, and going home for the night with newly smeared makeup. Whether that was with or without Sans coming along depended on the monster and the mood.

In other words, he was a reliable “mom friend” at a party, despite often having a few drinks himself.

But, more importantly, Sans has a personality beyond just sex and drugs. It’s something only people that manage to get past his pelvis have the opportunity to see. His room is filled with space memorabilia rather than the hottest magazines. He had a secret lab instead of a dungeon. He’d rather have a good burger and a soda than any of the tangy drinks and edibles that were so often found in everyone’s homes. Heck, his hobbies revolve around “star” gazing, pranks, and just making people laugh.

He encouraged Papyrus to live by his heart rather than by the lust flowing through his magic, unlike every other monster that wants him to be “down for anything.”

More than all of that, Sans was impossible to predict. He could honestly tell you the secrets of the universe one moment and then hit you with a water balloon the next. He made life in the Underground interesting and infinitely more tolerable.

That is to say, this scenario that Papyrus has currently walked into has certainly taken the cake. Multiple cakes, even.

There were currently three skeleton monsters in his living room, not including himself. One was standing in the doorway of their kitchen, in an outfit so unlike what he is used to seeing around Snowdin. A blue bandana is wrapped around his neck, hiding his neck and collarbone, with sturdy grey shoulder pads underneath it. His shirt covers his entire ribcage, and his pants are baggy and tucked into noticeably-not-high-heeled boots. On top of all of that, he has an apron on that says “Reach for the Stars” with multicolored stars littered across it.

In front of the couch, surrounded by an insane amount of paper, pencils, and other art supplies, is a skeleton of much similar structure to the other one — if you chose to ignore the horns, tail, and bare wing bones. He also has a scarf around his neck, this one brown and covered in writing and black splotches. His tan and white long sleeve shirt also covers much of his torso, but at least it’s a little more form fitting. His pants are flowy, however, but there are some sort of black leggings underneath them. He has no shoes, and Papyrus doesn’t see any near the door that aren’t already supposed to be there. A little strange to be barefoot in Snowdin, given the weather, though he supposes the folk in New Home or Hotland may enjoy the aesthetic?

The final two are by far the strangest part of this scene. Which is quite amazing, considering one is his actual brother.

Sans, in a rainbow hoodie with a purple star on the chest that Papyrus has never seen him wear, is currently in the center of a rather large, yellow, lizard-like… beast? Monster? Was that a monster?? Papyrus has never met a monster like this before, and he’s met a LOT of monsters in his time in the Royal Harem, before meeting Mettaton. Perhaps Undyne would know them? Or, actually, if they were a monster, maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised that Sans knows them, since Sans seems to know everyone in the underground far better than he probably should.

Either way, this was a very… Innocent yet weird moment to have walked into. Not that Papyrus was necessarily complaining. He hated to walk in on anything else.

All of the skeletons present (aside from the large one, who seemed to be asleep. Were they a skeleton monster?? Their pseudo skin seems very similar to his and Sans’ ecto bodies) are now staring at him, sockets wide and bodies frozen, like three children with their hands caught in the cookie jar. Even Sans himself looks surprised and confused, as if seeing his only other house mate within their very house was an unexpected turn of events.

Finally, the one in blue whips his head around to look at his brother, brows pinched downward. “Lust! You said he wouldn’t be home for another hour!”

He’s holding a plate of tacos in his hands. That’s perhaps the most normal thing in this entire scenario.

“Uh, yeah,” Sans replied, surprisingly. Why on earth he’d reply to such a cursed word, Papyrus had no idea. “He shouldn’t be back until, like, six somethin’.”

Papyrus distinctly remembers saying he’d be home at four-thirty sharp, actually. It figures that his brother would remember incorrectly, though he supposes it didn’t matter since he was technically correct. “It’s actually six twenty-four, right now,” he informed them, crossing his arms. “I had to stay later than normal because Mettaton needed help brainstorming new and exciting questions for his game show this week. Obviously, I was the best person to ask.”

Sans nodded, as if he expected this response. “Yeah yeah, hold on.” He shuffled around a little bit, reaching down towards his pants pockets. The large skull that laid on his stomach huffed unhappily, to which he simply patted their forehead with a soft “sorry, Dream.” Finally, he pulled out his phone and clicked it on.

A small purple phone Papyrus has also never seen before.

The horned skeleton on the floor snorted, propping his head on his hand. “Lusty, I think that’s the phone I gave ya.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh my stars,” the blue one groaned. He ran his free hand down his face, finally setting the tray of tacos down on the nearest table. “How did you mix that up?!”

“I’m sorry! They look similar!”

“The multiverse one literally has a star keychain, how did that slip your mind?!”

“You try havin’ two phones!”

“I literally do, you absolute doofus—“

“Yo, guys, don’t wake the baby,” the horned one scolded playfully, gesturing to the lizard-skeleton-thing. Which, if that WAS a baby, Papyrus was terrified to know what the parents looked like.

Though, knowing how rare children were, he supposed the skeleton was joking, now that he thought about it.

Great. Another comedian then (he says with all the fond annoyance, of course.)

“Excuse me,” he speaks up once again. They all turn back towards him, almost completely in sync. Terrifying. “I’m sorry to interrupt… whatever this is. But I would like to know who the heck you all are and why you’re in my home? How do you know my brother exactly? And are you all skeletons?? I didn’t realize there were other skeletons like us. And, more importantly, WHAT and/or WHO is THAT?”

He gestured wildly to the yellow being, sockets pinning his older brother down. Sans at least had the decency to look apologetic.

He should be, for keeping such cool and not-ravenous friends to HIMSELF.

“… Any chance I can convince you this is a dream?” Sans tried with a sheepish grin.

“Absolutely not.”

“Damn.”

“I can explain!” The skeleton-dragon-monster popped up from the ground happily, tail wiggling like a boney snake. Now that he was up, Papyrus noted that he was even shorter than his own brother. It was quite cute.

The blue one ran both his hands down his face now, though Paps swears he can see the corner of his teeth perk up a bit.

“Okay, so, I’m Ink!” the little one started, pointing to himself and then to his friends, “That’s Blue, Dream, and you know Lust! Kinda. Not AS Lust, but whatever. We’re all best of buddies, and we’re just hangin’ out today because Dream hadn’t seen Lust in a while and he really likes Lust’s hoodie, and when a piece of your hoard calls to you, ya just have to answer.”

“Mhm,” Papyrus nodded, utterly perplexed and not understanding a good portion of that entire explanation.

“A hoard is a dragon’s, like, very important personal belongings?” Sans tried to explain. “Like… a collection of… actually, never mind, it won’t matter in the long run and it’s hard to explain. Just know that Dream sees my hoodies and blankets and pillows as his own, and they’re very important to him.”

This is going to give him a headache. “So he needs to. Snuggle them. While you are in it.”

Sans snorted, patting Dream’s head again. “I mean, I don’t have to be in it, but it makes the experience better for both of us.”

Fair enough. He would much rather be cuddled up to his boyfriend than dealing with whatever-this-was.

“Anywho!” Ink paused. “Where was I?”

“Introducing us and failing to explain why we’re here,” Blue offered unhelpfully.

“Right! We’re alternate versions of your brother—“

“Oh my Stars, Ink.”

“And we all defend the multiverse together, but we’re also really close! Like family, not friends-with-benefits close, to confirm—“

“Oh my STARS, Ink—“

“— so we like to hang out in each other’s universes when we’re not fighting world-ending bad guys, and today we just so happened to be here for… whatever reason I may have already forgotten. Anyway! I gave Lust a phone to use across the multiverse, and it has the time of the Doodle Sphere on it because that’s consistent across the multiverse, but that also means it’s different from YOUR world’s time, with timelines and resets and all of that, so we confused the two.”

There was a long pause after Ink finished rambling, smiling happily up to the taller skeleton in the room. Before he could really register any of what was said, however, Blue muttered a little, “Technically, Lust confused the two, not us.”

This, of course, earned him an indignant shout from his brother, and—

Okay, yeah, no.

Papyrus nodded multiple times, clapping his hands together and pressing them to his teeth. “I have no clue what’s happening here,” he stated plainly. “I’m going to assume this is just more of Sans’ weird time-space shenanigans and… and I am. Going. To bed. I think.”

They all blinked at him quietly. The dragon-thing shuffled peacefully, sighing and rubbing his head against Sans’ chest. He looked comfortable, and incredibly soft as well. Perhaps when Papyrus had more motivation to understand what was in front of him, he’d ask if he could pet the large creature.

Breaking the silence, Blue gestured to the plate of food beside him. “Do you want a taco before you go?”

“… Sure. Why not.”