#man i’m. i’m so good. i’m haunted and i feel tiny and too big at the same time but i’m. at the same time i’m so so good

[flowercrowngods]

oh the inherent healing of rearranging your home. love is stored here.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 42 all chapters

WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

42. home sweet home  

Although all you wanted in the world was to return home when you were trapped in The Continental, you find as you pull up the driveway you suddenly feel the tiniest bit of trepidation, just a hint of nervousness for living alone in this isolated mountain retreat here with John.

You want to trust him with all your heart, blithely steadfast in your confidence as much as your love. But there is a tiny whisper of doubt creeping up from the dungeons in the back of your mind.

You do not think John is insane. You do, however, believe he experienced a bit of a psychotic break in the days when he first took you, a bomb loaded with the pressures of past battle trauma, excruciating grief, and fear of losing control-i.e. you. 

He’d been so good to you in the city, but the last time you dwelled in this glorified cabin, you cannot forget that up to the last hours, you were a prisoner. 

Now, you’ve agreed to marry this man, and he holds your hand as you walk through the door on your own power, like things were always normal between you.  

Maybe you’re the crazy one, because you resolve to lift your chin and plow forth as though nothing bad had happened here. What you want is here in the present, and shining in the future. What do you have to gain, by dwelling on the past? You will put it behind you. Not forgotten–but forgiven. You know that is the only real way your love will survive–will thrive. Yet you also know, deep down, this vow you make to yourself will be easier said than done. 

You bring in your suitcases, and look over the repairs that were finalized while you were gone. It all looks essentially good as new. The bullet holes in the walls have been patched. There’s a new rug in the great room; there was no getting the blood out of the old one. 

Dog seems happy to be home too, trotting around and sniffing, making sure all is in its proper place in his domain.

You lose track of John in the big house; when you go searching for him, you find him just standing in the kitchen, staring at the place where one of the intruders had nearly ended him with a knife–before you shot them in the throat. Certain he’s having one of his flashbacks, you call out to him in a gentle voice, trying to talk him back from it without startling him. You’re no doctor, of course, but you may have fallen into some Google spirals about how to care for someone with PTSD at the Continental. 

Finally he responds to your voice, turning towards you with a haunted look in his eyes. “It’s ok,” you soothe him, reaching for him now that he’s woken from his trance. “We’re ok.” You think you actually believe it, too. He wraps you up in a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair and breathing deeply. You stand like that in the kitchen, just hugging, for what feels like an hour, but is probably only five minutes. 

“Do we…need to go somewhere else?” you ask quietly, sad at the thought of leaving the cabin, but wondering if fresh surroundings might be better. 

“No,” he insists. “Unless you want to.” Offering you this choice even just a month ago would have  been an impossible thing for him. 

“I’m fine, so far. I still like it here.” 

He nods, and presses his forehead to yours. “Y/n…” He sighs. “When I lost Helen, I wanted to die. Then, I wanted to survive, but just to kill. But you…you made me want to live again. It’s all I could think, while I was fighting. I want to live. For you.”

You kiss him softly; soon it grows into a heady lock of lips, John’s arms around you lifting you to your tiptoes. Between kisses he asks, “Can I take you upstairs?” 

This is the thing that gives you pause. Maybe the kitchen is the traumatic room in the house for John, but that luxurious bedroom upstairs has been your personal Bastille for the past months, and for a moment you freeze, finding that you are afraid to take the leap of faith with him. 

It’s his turn to offer comfort, when he notices your reluctance, and just maybe interprets it correctly. “It’s alright,” he assures you. “Come with me. Let me show you something.” With your hand in his he leads you up the stairs. Your steps are slow, but he doesn’t drag you along, being patient with you. When you cross the threshold of the bedroom your heart is pounding in your chest like it damn well means to escape through your ribcage, but you force yourself to take one more step with him to the keypad by the door. 

He starts punching in a long sequence of numbers, then he takes you utterly by surprise when he presses your hand to the sensor. The keypad is mounted so high you can barely reach it.  A few moments later the little green light flashes. “There. See?”

He shuts the door and you jump at that familiar, dreaded, click. “John?” You hate how small and needy your voice sounds. 

“Put your hand up, honey.” 

With your heart in your throat you reach up to touch the sensor, reluctant as though you almost suspect a trick. But then the lock on the door clicks open. 

You aren’t proud of the sob of relief that escapes you. John catches you up in his arms again, holding you. Until he wrapped you up, you didn’t realize that you were shaking. “There now, see?” he says soothingly, just like you’d spoken to him in the kitchen. “It’s yours, honey. Everything I have is yours.” 

A long, brittle sigh escapes you as you bury your nose in his neck. It doesn’t really register for you, what he means by that statement. All that matters are his arms around you, and that fucking door is open. “All I want is you,” you tell him, and you mean it.

“You’ve got me. I’m ok. Are you ok?”

You nod, offering a watery but genuine smile. He kisses your cheeks, which you didn’t realize were wet with tears. “My sweet girl. You have the biggest heart. What are you doing with a devil like me?” 

Your laugh sounds shaky too–did he forget that at first, he didn’t really give you a choice? “Having the adventure of a lifetime?”

He huffs at that, as amused as you are. Suddenly you are weightless as he hoists you in his arms, and takes you to the bed. 

He doesn’t say it aloud, but you fancy that you feel it. Every kiss he presses to your aching skin, every soft caress, feels embedded with apology, and you accept it. With open arms, you take it all. 

***

You wake before John from your post-coital nap. It’s late afternoon. You can tell, from the sideways light streaming through the windows. Quietly you slide out of bed, picking up your clothes in a bundle because you haven’t unpacked your robe yet from your suitcase. You dress downstairs, so you will not wake him. 

Knowing someone will have to go to the store soon, you browse the pantry for a snack, finding a granola bar. You go stand by the windows while you eat it, looking out at the forest. That is when, out the corner of your eye, you realize the light on the lock control on the front door is green. 

You can’t remember the last time that happened. 

When you’d unwittingly wandered into Wick’s lair after that hike for coffee and sundries? It wasn’t even quite a year ago, but it feels like a lifetime. 

You cannot stop yourself now. Your feet move on their own to the door, trying the knob. 

It turns freely, and so of course, you pull. 

The portal swings open, so naturally, you step outside. 

The early fall air is crisp, and has never smelled so sweet. You lift your face to the sun, soaking it in. 

Have you arrived? Is this the life you always wanted for yourself? 

You decide to wander, just a little. You walk around the driveway, stretching your legs, and then you meander to the edge of the woods. It’s almost as though the trees are calling you. You take a step, and then another, until you are in the forest, and you are happy. 

You’re not really gone long. Maybe twenty minutes, all in all, just a tiny little ramble. You pass back through the front door as quietly as you can muster, not wanting to wake John. You start, when you find him sitting at the kitchen island, with his head in his hands. You are startled, when you realize he’s been crying. 

“John?” You practically leap across the floor to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He grabs you up in arms, holding you so tightly your ribs creak. “I thought…you’d left,” he admits quietly. He squeezes you again, shuddering as he buries his face in your hair. He doesn’t say more, but you think you might know the rest. The fact that he was sitting in the kitchen, and not tearing through the woods after you…if that was your decision, would he have let you go? 

You freeze, your breath ceasing, your very heart screeching to a stop in your chest. 

This man. 

How is it possible, for so much love to fit inside your insignificant shell of a body, for this man?

You draw back to look at him, really look at him, those mocha dark puppy eyes that tear your heart to shreds fixed on yours. “I’m never going to leave you, John.” It spills from your lips before you can even think about it, but once its out you realize it’s absolutely true. After everything he put you through…you still just know you will never be happy, without him by your side. Nothing and no one else will do. 

A psychologist would have a fucking field day with you. They would say things like Stockholm Syndrome and shared trauma bond, abandonment issues and codependent relationship. You would tell them to fuck the fuck off–and that Stockholm Syndrome is made-up bullshit devised by two male psychologists in the seventies to describe ‘hysterical female behavior’. 

You’ve known people who have made worse decisions for much less reward.

“I will always come back to you,” you tell him. “You’re stuck with me now. Like���a wart that won’t go away.” 

This makes him laugh, and it’s such a beautiful sight. You kiss his tears away, then his mouth. It soon turns into another tonsil-inspecting affair that leaves you both breathless. “I’m going to have to take you back upstairs now,” he says with a sniff, only half joking. 

“How about you take me to the grocery store? It’s going to be dinner time soon.”

He chuckles at that, nods, and kisses your forehead. “Okay.”

It’s almost like you’re an old married couple already.

[joe-spookyy]

hi today i’m ranking werewolf designs based on how much i judged the vfx team for creating them. full post under cut sorry it’s so insanely long but trust me on this one it’s fun i’m discussing an american werewolf in london harry potter twilight the wolf man buffy the vampire slayer etc and so on (except not etc that’s it.) my credentials are i’m insane about werewolf narratives and i’m the boss of the applesauce.

first up is an american werewolf in london. now THAT is a good beast. he’s spooky. he’s scary. he’s wolf-like but not Just a wolf. and they get some mega extra points for that transformation sequence. rick baker the man that you are. however as much as i love it there’s a few critiques i have to bring up. first. it’s kinda odd that so much of the color palette for the transformation scene was browns and blacks when the actual werewolf was mostly grey. the final product was a little off from the transformation. i did like both of them quite a lot though so i’m not that mad. see. look. kind of off. but it’s definitely not bad i can mostly see how one came from the other even though the colors might be a little different. it also sort of lacks in facial movement in its final form as it’s kind of stuck in that permanent snarl, but they did a good job softening its eyes in the final scene where alex is trying to get through to david. 9/10.

mid-transformation fully transformed

next up yeah i have stuff to say about the harry potter prisoner of azkaban remus lupin design. is it fuck ugly. yes. is it cgi. yes. is jk rowling responsible for it. yeah. however. is it kind of a creative take on the typical werewolf idea. i hate to say it. yes it is. it goes against the typical sorta big strong hunky beast werewolf, and i cant lie, i appreciate it. it’s unique and kinda haunting in its own way. i don’t like that it’s bald. but i like the boldness and well. they got creative. 6/10.

ugly fucking freak ⬆️

next i’m going back. way back. yes sir we’re looking at werewolf of london. from 1935. and the wolf man. from 1941. cause they look pretty similar and they’re both jack pierce so yeah i’m lumping them together. if you ask me these ones lean more to the side of wolfman than werewolf - they’re kind of just hairy guys. which is like fine i guess i just think they should put more emphasis on the wolf. i like the wolfman better than the werewolf of london, which makes sense, cause i know the guy playing the london one didn’t feel like sitting for makeup and so jack pierce got to do more on the second round i guess. however WHY was bela lugosi’s werewolf form a straight up wolf and not lon chaney’s? they don’t explain it. rude. they’re iconic of course but they are honestly not showstopping. 5/10.

werewolf of london the wolf man

alright we’re flashing back to the present with twilight!! yeah. ok so last time i was complaining about there being too much man and not enough wolf. or like. too much were? i don’t know. whatever. anyways. this time i’m complaining because it’s too wolf. that’s just. it’s just a big cgi wolf. i don’t like this. it’s boring. i don’t even have that much to say it’s just like. whatever. 2/10.

lame as hell ⬆️

now. i’m gonna get irritating here. next up is buffy the vampire slayer. now i love oz. i wanted to like the design i really did. and they started out off strong. well. strongER. it’s like. kinda bad. but it definitely looks like a wolf? and it’s. kind of person ish? i don’t know. they tried. the bodysuit is loose but it’s better than what’s to come so i have to give it like a tiny bit of respect. 4/10.

see? not great but could be significantly worse.

and it does get worse. so. let me speak. this is the worst thing i have ever seen in my entire goddamn life. that looks like a gorilla. there’s like barely any semblance of wolf on this other than that it has fur. i don’t understand why they decided to go in this direction it looks terrible. and the body suit part always looks loose as hell. it comes across as like an ugly gorilla mascot suit, and they make no effort to have it move in a remotely wolf-ish way. they usually just have it scuttling around like some sort of little freak. oz does not deserve this ugly shit. i love buffy and wanted to enjoy the werewolf episodes but lord have mercy. this sucks. whoever did this i’m gonna find you. 0/10.

oz (bad) evil bitch veruca (worse)

that’s all the werewolves i can think of right now actually. and it won’t let me add more pictures cause i’m on mobile. in conclusion an american werewolf in london did it best and every other depiction of a werewolf should be looking to that for inspiration. but fight me on these by all means i may have objectively correct werewolf opinions but that doesn’t mean i’m not open to discussion. thanks for watching #sparkleon

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

As it was

✧.* Pair: Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader;

✧.* Plot: Leon and the reader are meeting after the events of RE4 to catch up. They meet at a bar to eat and talk;

✧.* Tags: fluff.

✧.* Ko-fi || Patreon ✧.*

"Oh my God, how much he changed..." You thought so when you saw him. The moment he noticed you, his face brightened and his frown disappeared completely. His lips curved into a big, beautiful smile as he approached you.

Even if he was happy at that moment, you still couldn't find the rookie you met all those years ago. He was a completely different person, one haunted by the outbreak and all the difficulties he had to endure, but who could blame him for this change? Still, there was a tiny bit of that rookie inside of him that gave him his boyish charm.

"Long time, no see, stranger." He said this as he hugged you tight.

You and Claire had a special place in his heart because all three of you went through the same hell together.

"It's hard to reach you nowadays, Leon."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I had tons of classified shit to do."

You hugged again, and this time it lasted a few seconds longer.

"I wish I could tell you." He said as he caressed your back, "but I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you."

You both laughed at his cheesy joke.

"You grew up, Leon." you said as you withdrew, arms sliding along his shoulders, "You're a big government agent now."

"It's not as exciting as people think it is." His smile faded for a second, but it came back. "Should we go inside?" He asked, pointing towards the bar's door.

"Yeah, sure"

His eyes had a trace of nostalgia in them as he watched you. You didn't know, but you changed too.

Being the gentleman he is, he opened the door and held it for you. Then you found a table in the corner and sat down, looking over the menu.

You still couldn't believe how much this man had changed. Your gaze kept shifting from the menu to Leon until a waiter arrived.

"Can I take your order?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll have a cheeseburger with fries, and you?"

His voice changed too. It was deeper, and he sounded more confident in himself.

"I'll take the same."

A small pause followed until Leon spoke again.

"So, what have you been up to?" He asked, playing with a toothpick but without taking his eyes off you.

"I got myself a job in the BSAA. Surviving Racoon City opened some doors to me."

"BSAA? That sounds amazing." He seemed proud of you. "So you get to work with the legendary Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine?"

"Not yet, but I hope I will soon. But until then, I hope I'll get to work with the legend in front of me."

Leon burst into laughter.

"You are adorable."

Everything went smoothly that night. The food was great, you both were in a good mood, and Leon even offered to take you on a motorcycle ride.

Before driving in the city, you stayed outside and talked for a bit. The night came, and it was a bit cold outside, but Leon was nice and gave you his jacket. He was resting his back on the bar’s wall with his hands in his pockets, and you stayed the same but with your arms crossed. You both faced the road.

"Do you have any plans next weekend?" Leon asked, fidgeting in place.

"Are you asking me on a second date, Leon S. Kennedy?"

"Yeah, I mean, you asked me first, and I thought it was my turn." A shy smile appeared on his face.

"I didn't realize we were keeping score."

"Heh, well, it's not just about that. I enjoy your company, that's all." He spoke quickly.

"I can say the same."

Leon looked around nervously, not knowing what to say next. You looked so cute wearing his jacket, and he just wanted to hug you and held you to his chest all night. He missed you too, a lot, and wanted to contact you many times, but his job kept him very busy.

"Listen I-" he started "I just missed you, that’s all."

Here it was the rookie you remember: shy, sweet, and very awkward when it came to expressing his feelings.

"It’s ok" You firmly grabbed his shoulder. "I missed you too, and now I know where you work, so next time you ignore my calls, I will simply show up in your office."

He chuckled lightly.

"Yeah it’s just that, after Racoon City, everything changed-"

He lowered his eyes, and his tone became feeble.

"And maybe we should talk about that some other time." You suggested it, seeing that his mood was changing. "We met today to have a good time and enjoy ourselves, remember?"

"Yeah, you’re right." He said this, turning his head to look at you.

"I’ve seen how you look at me, tho." He continued.

"How?"

"Like I’m different. You’ve been staring at me all night, and I don’t think it’s because of my good looks."

"Well, it can be that too. You’re a handsome man, it’s impossible to look away."

He giggled.

"C’mon, be serious."

"Ok fine. Well, to tell the truth, I really think you changed. You are more…gloomy, serious…"

He sighed.

"We changed too."

"But…" you began to wave your hand in circles around his face, "there is still some of that rookie inside you."

"And how’s that rookie to you?"

"He’s sweet, kind, and has a great sense of humor."

Leon smiled and nodded.

"I think you’re the only one who sees that part in me."

"Well, it’s been a long time since I saw you."

Another pause followed.

"You changed too, you know?" Leon said.

There was something in the way he was looking at you. Even at the bar, his eye followed your every move, as if he were trying to find someone. There was a bit of…sadness in them, maybe when he realized that you weren’t the same either. But he was happy the whole night. He told a lot of jokes, laughed, and disclosed some sensitive information that would get him fired if another agent heard him.

"How so?" You asked, knowing that he would address this subject eventually. Still, you were curious.

"You are more…I don’t know, sad, absent."

Leon waited patiently for you to answer, his gaze not leaving your body.

"We can’t just ignore what happened, we have to move forward with our lives. I guess that sometimes my mind wanders back to that night, to all the people we lost…including ourselves."

You both sighed.

"It’s funny, tho, how our minds end up being our number one enemy. The path we chose is a dangerous one for sure, but it makes me glad to have people like you next to me." You looked up and saw him taking a deep breath and resting his head on the wall. Maybe it was too dark, but you swore you saw him blushing a bit. Was he holding in a smirk?

"Yeah, I’m glad I have you by my side too." He rubbed your shoulder as he turned his face to look at you again. "It’s just, it never ends, you know."

"It has to." You came closer to rest your head on his shoulder, and his arm slid along your back to grab your waist from the other side, holding you with a firm grip.

Feeling that things might go in a weird direction, you spoke.

"I don’t know about you, but this talk kind of saddens me."

"Yeah, same. Sorry about that, it’s kind of my fault."

Oh, don’t be," You pulled away from his embrace, and tapped on his shoulder as a reassuring gesture. "Talking about your feelings it’s a good thing."

"You’re right." He smiled again. Oh, how you missed that smile, even if it was gone for just a few minutes.

Leon turned his head to face the motorcycle that was parked in front of the bar.

"Hey, I promised you a motorcycle ride, didn’t I?" He turned his head to look at you.

Yeah, you did, Leon. Do you intend to keep your promise?"

C'mon, sharp tongue." He rolled his eyes and chuckled.

You both disappeared into the night at high speed, and you held tight to him as he drove past cars.

The ride made you feel good, it made you feel free of your worries. The wind blew through your hair, and the cars became nothing more than bright dots and lines. You lost track of your surroundings. You didn’t know where Leon was taking you, but you trusted him and held onto him tight the entire time. He gave you a feeling of safety. Perhaps his body was not the only thing you were holding tight to.

Taglist: @lunarastrobabe @ravenrune @alegrvs

[englishstrawbie]

2 and 63 for Kacy please :)

Thank you for your prompts, Sam! ❤️ I wrote something that combined your two prompts, I hope you like it!

>>>>>>>>>>

The apartment is dark by the time Kate finally arrives home, the moonlight shining in from outside and glinting across the hard wooden floor, a path guiding her towards the bedroom. A heavy sigh escapes from her as she kicks off her shoes and drops her keys on the kitchen counter along with her bag, exhausted by work.

Her shoulders are full of tension and she rolls them down and back, hearing her muscles pop. It has been a long two days as her team have tried to track down a city banker who has gone missing, here on the island for a golfing vacation. It turns out he has a drug habit that led him to the not-so-nice parts of the island on the last day he was seen by his family. That kind of money pulls in favours with the brass and Kate’s team is under pressure to find him.

Her body aches for the comfort of a hot shower, her comfortable mattress, the high thread count sheets, and the warmth of her girlfriend’s body curled up against her.

But first, her stomach grumbles at her, reminding her that she skipped lunch.

She immediately notices the post-it note pinned to the refrigerator telling her that there is leftover pizza inside for her. Thank God for Lucy’s sixth sense. Kate pulls the door open, grabs the pizza box and sets it on the island. She takes a slice and is about to bite into it, when she hears the bedroom door open.

“Kate!”

The call of her name makes Kate jump, the cold pizza slipping out of her hand and falling onto the floor. She curses under her breath as she turns to see Lucy storming across the apartment, dressed only in a hoodie.

Kate’s hoodie, to be more precise, the red one she picked up at the Hyperdrome a few weeks ago. It is way too big for Lucy, swamping her tiny body and sitting just above her knees. If she wasn’t glaring at her with so much annoyance, Kate would have told her how adorable she looks. Instead, she shoots her an apologetic look.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Where have you been?” Lucy demands to know.

Kate’s eyebrows quirk, a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Uh… at work?”

Lucy huffs as she climbs up onto one of the stools on the other side of the island.

“I called you,” Lucy says. “Like, a hundred times.”

“You did? I’m sorry, Luce, I…”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Lucy continues, unperturbed. “It was an emergency!”

Kate’s heart drops and she scurries around the island, spinning Lucy in her seat and looking her up and down, checking for injuries.

“An emergency?”

“Yes! I needed to tell you I loved you.”

Kate pauses, her mouth twitching. “You needed to tell me you loved me?”

“Yes,” Lucy says, like it was an obvious answer. She huffs again. “You never ignore my calls.”

“I know,” Kate says softly, tugging at the strings of the hoodie. “I’m sorry. My phone broke.”

She still remembers the look of surprise on Curtis’s face when she had launched it across the room in frustration as their investigation had stalled, the image of the missing man’s fourteen-year-old daughter haunting her.

She pushes those thoughts out of her mind, preferring to focus on her girlfriend. She hooks her finger under Lucy’s chin and lifts her face, running her thumb over Lucy’s lips.

“I love you, too.”

Kate watches as Lucy’s pout turns into a small smile, her hands sliding around Kate’s waist as she pulls her closer. Kate lowers her lips to meet Lucy’s, kissing her and feeling the tension melt from her body.

“You okay?” Lucy says when they part, picking up on Kate’s low mood.

“I…” Kate sighs, struggling to find the words. “It’s been a tough couple of days.”

Lucy responds by reaching out and taking Kate’s hand, squeezing it gently. “What can I do?”

That makes Kate smile. “Pizza and a hot shower and bed sounds pretty good right now.”

Her eyes drop, looking Lucy up and down. “And my hoodie back.”

Lucy feigns innocence. “This old thing?”

“It’s not old,” Kate points out. “And I want it back. Even if you do look cute in it.”

Lucy grins. “But I like it, it’s cosy.”

“It’s mine,” Kate points out. It has quickly become her favourite hoodie, the one she always reaches for when the temperature drops. The one she has been thinking about putting on all day.

She grimaces as Lucy reaches for a slice of pizza.

“Hey! Don’t get grease on it,” Kate says.  

Lucy’s eyes narrow playfully and she puts the pizza back into the box. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Kate is immediately suspicious of how easily she relents.

Lucy shrugs nonchalantly. “Okay.”

Kate takes a step back as she slides off the stool, watching as Lucy takes the bottom hem of the hoodie and lifts it, pulling it over her head and holding it out towards Kate.

“Here you go.”

Kate ignores the gesture, frozen to the spot as she stares at Lucy, who now stands in the middle of their apartment dressed only in a black, lacy lingerie set that Kate is pretty sure she has never seen before. Her words get caught in the back of her throat and all that escapes is a low growl.

“You okay there, darling?” Lucy asks.

“I, uh…” She shakes her head. “Oh god, how can you manage to switch from cute to sexy in under a second?”

Lucy laughs, her eyes sparkling with mischief, revelling in the way that Kate’s breath hitches when she takes a step forwards.

“How about bed, then shower, then pizza in bed?”

Kate licks her lips and nods dumbly.  

“Yeah?”

Forgetting about the pizza and her empty stomach, Kate scoops Lucy up in her arms, letting out a much-needed giggle as Lucy wraps her legs around her waist.

“Most definitely yes.”

[brick-a-doodle-do]

i know myself so well DVFEWJRS

HERE IT IS!! LAST CHAPTER IN MAIN SERIES! i started this doc on halloween and finished it around fourth of july! good god!

also i forgot to add bht thank you to xyz for help with this chapter !! part of the last scene was completely their idea :D

the egg scene will forever haunt me. i was stuck on that for at least three months.

not quite ready (iii; final)

(i, ii)

words: 4515 (😱😱😱)

cw: vore mention, dehumanization, mentions of depression, descriptions of questioning reality ? idk the word for that :I

—–—

The following morning, Wilbur sits with himself in silence. The apartment was quiet, broken only by the quiet whooshes of cars rushing in the busy streets down below and the occasional hum from the air conditioner. 

By the time the bedroom door that had sat undisturbed for hours creaked open with practiced silence, he didn't know how much time had passed. 

That feeling was familiar. 

He hates to circle back to the very thing he’s so luckily escaped from, but every little thing he did would remind him of it. Wilbur doesn’t know Tommy very well yet, and he can’t say he’s drawn to doing so, but it’s nice to be able to gaze at the chocolate bag without looking at the walls he only saw as one great big endless void.

He can hear Tommy’s weight shift onto the floorboards softly as he makes his way through the apartment. Wilbur tossed to his side, eyes staring at the cloth of the couch. Familiarity washes over him and drowns him. He had spent too long staring at a dark, blank slate. Why does his freedom entail the very same thing?

Wilbur frowns, shifting back up to the ceiling, where Tommy just barely looms over the edge of the couch. A shiver runs through his body at the startle, but ultimately it’s nice to see him, because it was grounding to see another living and breathing something. 

“Oh, fuck, sorry—” Tommy murmurs, his hands resting on the back of the couch and pushing the cushion down just slightly to see the tiny better. Wilbur shrugs, looking deeply into the eyes that blink without a rhythm. Tommy is alive. 

Wilbur is too. 

Tommy’s chest rises and falls and his hair shifts as his head moves just barely so their eye-contact could disperse. Wilbur’s chest rises and falls too, and he can hear his heartbeat that thumps softly against his ears as they sit in utter silence.

“Well, um, I’m gonna go, yeah? You alright here?”

He considered it, and he should’ve said he was. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he’d apparently lost control of his response and blurted out an extremely abrupt: “No, please stay with me. I��I can’t sleep and I really can’t have it be quiet any longer.” 

“Oh,” Tommy murmurs, “okay. Yeah, I can do that for sure. Do you want me to sit down?” he asks, already making his way over to the tiny. 

The borrower nods, trying not to listen to the voice in his head. Tommy obliges and walks around the edge of the couch, a certain slowness to his movements, and sits down just inches away from the pillow he was on. 

Wilbur sits up, sinking slightly in the middle of the feathers, but his next-to-nothing weight, for the most part, keeps him still. Tommy keeps his hands in his lap, nails picking softly at his skin. It’s quiet for a moment, but Tommy speaks up with the inevitable question, “Did you sleep last night?”

Wilbur shakes his head, “No, I couldn’t. Did you?”

“A little bit,” Tommy replies, and Wilbur notices how the hem of the human’s shirt has been caught between his fingers. “Hey, um, Wilbur?” Tommy asks. Wilbur looks up. “Are you feeling alright after that whole, uh…thing?”

Wilbur shrugs, the phantom feeling of being in the bag already fading from his memory, but in the same way never uprooting. He swallows. “I can't say I feel the best, but I'm getting better. Thank you for what you've done, I don't know where I'd be right now.”

“Oh, nah man, you didn't deserve to be there in the first place! Just helpin’ a guy out, y’know?” Tommy flashes him a fond smile, and the human’s humor wafts into his face, the sweet scent of underlying pity burning his throat. He laughs dryly, unsure of where to lead the conversation so that the suffering sound of nothing can’t bother him any longer, because so many of his days had been spent with little but the occasional muffled chime from the store’s door or the hushed chatter from city-goers as they pass in and out. 

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, his lips parting with every passing second Wilbur sits with the reminisce of the past. He considers pointing the fact out, but instead he lets them sit in the shared silence before the teenager’s inevitable saving grace would show. 

Half a minute has passed and they haven't broken eye-contact. 

The gesture might’ve scared past-Wilbur, though post-incident-Wilbur has never felt more thrilled at the contact of another being. And when his eyes drift down to the fingers that still fidget with the cloth anxiously, he can't help but imagine how grounding it would feel for fingers to close over him. 

He shudders at the thought, however, because it’s an entirely other scenario to be trapped by a human. It’s a conflicting battle that leaves him absentmindedly shifting closer.

Tommy is quiet.

Wilbur is quiet.

A car honks down on the streets below, startling Wilbur.

Tommy, awkwardly, clears his throat. “I’m going back to London in a few weeks, can’t be long now, uhm, do you want to come with me? I don’t want to force you, but you don’t seem like the typa’ fella to just pick life back up, respectfully ‘n all.” Wilbur considers it, and the silence draws taut. 

“That’s a bit last-minute, don’t you agree?” he asks.

“Right, like I said you’re not, like, fuckin’ obligated to or whatever. Just thought it might be nice, givin’ you a heads up ‘n all,” Tommy reassures him. It’s not exactly convincing; Wilbur finds himself wondering how much of Tommy is really okay with him staying here.

Wilbur swallows, running his fingers through the flap of his hair. “I don’t know, and don’t expect an answer. Not anytime soon.” 

“Right, yeah, don’t decide right now,” Tommy chirps, leaning against the couch and sighing. “Are you hungry? I could fuckin’ eat right now,” he adds.

Wilbur stares right at him. 

Tommy sits, oblivious with his leg bouncing as he awaits Wilbur’s response. Eventually, his eyes shifted in realization when the silence had drawn on too long. “Oh, oh fuck—I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t want anything like that—” Tommy rushes, the words coming out a warp. Wilbur shakes his head, the beginning of laughter escaping him, though drying up at the edge of his throat. 

“You’re fine, king, you’re all good. Just a bit jumpy after everything, you get it,” he replies simply.

“I actually don’t really get it,” Tommy argues. There’s another beat of silence, Wilbur staring at Tommy’s hands. “Well, uh, seriously then, do you want food?”

Wilbur nods eagerly. 

Food, real food sounded extravagant; his teeth had rotten away over all the times he’d filled up on chocolate. 

The taste of something savory over the weeks had often been his imagination while he bit into the bud of candy, pretending easily that it was something different, like, a rather pleasant portion of fruit he’d scored while a human was away or something he managed to buy in his short time of freedom. 

Tommy nods, shuffling up off of the couch and leaving him in the lonely living room again, back to sitting with his own thoughts, only this time with a newfound light after the human had flicked it on.

Suddenly, Tommy comes back into view as he gently leans over the back of the couch. So close. Like how he had been when he’d peered into the candy bag— 

“Wilbur,” Tommy urges. When Wilbur seems to have blinked out of his memory, the human continues. “What do you want? You allergic to anything?”

He blinks. Alurgic? 

“Uh….I don’t think I know what that means,” Wilbur admits.

“Oh, uh, I’ll take that as a no. I don’t have it in me to explain,” Tommy says, smiling at him like Wilbur is supposed to know what that means. 

When Tommy takes his expression that grows even more confused by the following silence as a response, he tries to shake it off with a swift: “Can I take you over to the kitchen, then? Or do you think you still could fall asleep?”

“I can’t fall asleep,” Wilbur responds quickly.

Tommy nods. “I’m gonna put my hand down on the pillow,” the human announces. He does—though irritatingly slow. He was unsure about humans, and it seemed both of them recognized that, but Wilbur wasn’t glass. 

When Tommy had stopped moving and instead kept his eyes glued to the borrower, he moved with his shoulders slicked back to hide the anxiety of being watched so intensely. 

Tommy’s skin was rough under his own as he got situated on his palm. 

Memories of being held by other (more resentful) humans fought their way through his archives, but he felt oddly soothed for how loud his head was.

Almost immediately after he had settled in the center of Tommy’s hand, gravity shifted and he watched as the world grew further from him. He wasn’t startled (Prime knows he’s been through worse) as his world shifted with each of Tommy’s movements, in fact he was still as at ease as he could be.

The rest of the apartment wasn’t anything special.

 Ahead of them was a kitchen, to the right was the front door, and to the left there were two other closed doors. He couldn’t take the house for anything personalized, so he probably hadn’t been here for longer than a few months. Still, it wasn’t the cleanest thing ever, but he couldn’t expect anything different from a kid Tommy’s age. 

(He’s seen it first-hand from the walls)

(*)

Tommy’s muscle memory kept him from wandering into the kitchen counter as his eyes kept a strong stare onto Wilbur. 

It wasn't anything particularly different than the other times he had talked or even seen a tiny, but even despite how little they've known each other it still felt more personal. Wilbur had been through a lot and Tommy was getting to help him. 

And he’s already cracked the ice, he noted as Wilbur barely reacts when he gently tilts him off of his hand and onto the kitchen island. 

He turns his back to him to search the fridge. 

There was barely anything there, just a cool-lighted wasteland with a few leftovers that he can't remember packaging in the first place.

An egg carton was nestled between two takeout boxes (had he tried organizing?) and it caught his gaze the second look around the fridge. 

“Uhh, we have eggs,” Tommy suggests. 

There's silence for a moment, then, barely distinguished from behind him, “That sounds fine.”

Wilbur sounded distracted, if somehow that was possible.

“Great, because I don’t actually think I can make anything except that,” Tommy deadpans, chuckling to himself at his own joke. He watches Wilbur crack a smile and a quiet laugh on his way to the stove with the egg carton in hand.

He flicks on the dial against the back of the stove, turning it to a medium heat before opening a cabinet to pull out a bowl. 

Tommy follows the routine of whisking the eggs then pouring them in and waiting. For a minute, Tommy’s attention lingers on what’s stood behind him, but he doesn’t voice his curiosity, nor his concern or sociable desires.

He just stands over the stove, watching the eggs, prodding at them with a spatula as they form into something edible. When they’re decidedly done, he sprinkles salt over them and calls it quits. He figures Wilbur won’t be particular about his culinary abilities when his past appetite consisted of chocolate.

The idea makes his head hurt, thinking about how someone so human, even despite their sharp, obvious difference, could be locked away like how Wilbur had been.

Tommy could only imagine how dark it could’ve been—completely isolated from any kind of outside contact and intended to be thrown away, eaten like a piece of candy.

Must have been difficult.

“Pardon?” a small voice from behind him asks, and Tommy tenses. Had he said that out loud? 

Tommy blinks, and suddenly his hand is moving on its own and folding the eggs into themselves to finish the dish.

Prime, he was tired as shit.

He moves to turn the stove off and sets the pan aside on another burner, then opens a cabinet and pulls a plate off of the lower shelf, the ceramic noises like nails on a chalkboard to him. The plate clinks as it’s set down, then Tommy retrieves the pan of eggs and stares at them, long and hard. Not his best work.

Discouragement aside, he pulls a fork out of a drawer and spoons on the helping of eggs onto the plate. Good enough for government work, huh? Wilbur won’t care, anyway.

He takes a fork from a nearby drawer, then spins around, (blinking away the throb in his eyes when the lights hit his face), and sets the plate down on the kitchen island, just a few respectable inches from Wilbur, who stood with his hand on his arm, standing noticeably awkward.

(*)

Food. Actual, real food. Albeit made in no time at all and served by a teenager in a New York apartment, but still something that was an honest, feasible replacement from his past diet.

He stares at it. Tommy’s attention turns away from him, and he still stares at the plate of eggs. 

As Tommy was still distracted pulling up a chair from the other side of the counter, Wilbur steps forward cautiously and crouches down, peeling a small portion off of the eggs and stuffing it in his mouth. He swears to Prime that if Tommy were not nearly staring directly at him, Wilbur very well might have considered melting.

The eggs were not seasoned and they were not slow-cooked, but they were heaven. Were he a functioning member of society, (And assuming he was still very much mentally troubled after certain events), and Tommy was his waiter, he would give it a five out of five. 

Carefully, Wilbur takes another piece off of the egg and gnaws at it, savoring the unadorned flavor with every aspect of his senses. The feeling of rubber, (Almost), which clashes with his usual expectation of soft-then-syrupy, the bland flavor that was absolutely new to him, and the bright yellow color that contrasted with the black that he always just imagined as color. His void always had been a playground for imagination.

“Thank you,” Wilbur says through a mouthful, to which Tommy smiles weakly and sits down—after much delay, as if Tommy could’ve felt as awkward as Wilbur did right now.

Tommy grabs a fork and grabs a tentative bite, then through a mouthful, mumbles: “No problem, mate.” Through the corner of his eye, Wilbur watches Tommy and tries not to snicker at the forced face the blond makes to push through his disapproval of the meal.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, this shit takes like heaven,” he says, smally but still loud enough for Tommy to hear. 

“I think I’ll throw up if I have one more bite of this, It’s completely yours, then,” Tommy says, pushing the plate a little closer to Wilbur for emphasis. Wilbur shifts back on instinct, looking up anxiously at Tommy before calming down. Sorry,” Tommy adds quickly. Wilbur waves him off and takes a smaller piece of egg to chew on absentmindedly.

“The fucking chocolate has been making my teeth rot,” Wilbur says, huffing a bit like it’s a joke. Like one of those things to look back on and laugh at.

Tommy doesn’t seem amused, though. “That sounds awful, man,” he adds. 

“It’s not anymore, ‘cause now someone’s gone and saved me,” Wilbur reassures, gesturing mildly to Tommy.

“You’re welcome!” Tommy says, smiling like a child who’s helped with a chore unprompted. His mood changes are unmatched, Wilbur notes duly.

After that, time passed slowly, and for once, there wasn’t dread that followed. Tommy had cleaned breakfast up, and Wilbur kept the silence away while talking about this and that, until Tommy announced he needed to get groceries for his last couple of weeks in New York. Tommy’s plan was to have Wilbur stay back, but he declined, and instead asked to tag along.

For that reason, he rested carefully on Tommy’s shoulder, back resting against Tommy’s neck, completely vulnerable.The thought of that concerned him; to think about how any one of these people could work for that god-awful facility he was sent to, or any one of them could be holding a borrower captive, or how any of these people could absolutely hate his kind, and here he was, out in the open for any of those people to see. It was worrisome, and that had him tightening the grip of the hem of his sweater. 

Tommy was pleasingly quiet, though, and it was just the two of them listening to music. (Or as much music as he could hear from sitting under the human’s earbud.) 

He would’ve thought it to be harder to stay on someone’s shoulder, but even from the start he was persistent on that spot, only because it would’ve been incredibly difficult for Tommy to reach him without Wilbur noticing first—although he had gotten a little bit on edge when Tommy reached up to fix his hair or adjust his earbud. Sure, the human made him food and had gotten him out of that wretched bag, and had seemed pretty genuine about not eating him, he still wasn’t ready to be hand-held or in his pocket where he couldn't see everything.

Also, it was warmer here. Tommy and his need to linger around chilled foods.

Wilbur looks around, through Tommy’s curls, staring at the variety of foods. They were too far for him to recognize, (Not that he would know any of them by heart, considering he grew up on things he could score on the counter), but it was still so refreshing to see something real.

Suddenly, as his eyes graze over something on a high shelf, someone walks past and locks eyes with him. Wilbur tenses. The lady tenses, stopping abruptly. Unfortunately for him, Tommy also stops to look at something.

The lady gives a curious, almost disgusted look, and Wilbur, not knowing what to do, proceeds to flip her off.

It was not until that motion Wilbur realized he was just caught doing something to absolutely draw attention to himself until he was much too late.

“You!” the lady says, rather loudly—definitely enough for Tommy to turn his attention to her. “Control that thing,” she finishes, a certain type of offensive dripping from her tongue that makes even Tommy tense. Wilbur flinches at her voice, somehow moving closer to Tommy despite being right up against his neck. He crosses his arms, some kind of half-frustrated-half-ready-to-cry feeling washing over him which leaves him stone-faced and unmoving.

Thing. A single word and suddenly he’s back at the factory, being manhandled and thrown into a container with other borrowers, some panicked, some angry, and some oddly accepting. Wilbur was angry, pissed. He had been granted freedom from being cooped up in the walls with nothing to do except get food whenever he ran out. And he finally got a chance to see the world, to walk on pavement made for people his size and be social. And he had, for a week, and then he had made a lucky call when trusting someone and gotten thrown into a bag not a day later, sealed in darkness.

When Tommy had found him, however-long later, he couldn’t say he saw someone with the intent to capture him again. He saw a savior, and maybe that’s why he was so relaxed. Reality felt there again. He felt like he existed, and he didn’t pinch himself every five minutes to check he was really there. His limbs weren’t numb, and he could hum to himself without it feeling like the only thing to do.

Back at the supermarket, blinking his way out of memories, he realizes Tommy hasn’t said anything back, he just scoffs and mutter’s a whispered ‘fucking bitch’, and walks off, right past the woman who murmurs something incoherent to Wilbur. (He still knows it was about him.)

At the very least, Wilbur has walked away from that situation now knowing words can’t hurt anymore in comparison to his situation just barely a few days ago.

“People are awful,” Tommy whispers under his breath.

Wilbur just pats Tommy’s shoulder.

“Aren’t you fucking revenge-seeking or some shit?”

“No. I’m not a child,” Wilbur explains, and Tommy hides his laughter at a low snicker.

“You’re a bitch,” Tommy whispers, turning away immediately at the look he got from a stranger in the aisle. Wilbur laughs whole-heartedly, the sound escaping despite how hard he tried not.

(*)

His head hurts, with thoughts going a mile a fucking minute. The scent of chocolate undoubtedly drifting from Wilbur on his shoulder was making a repetitive thought resurface no matter how much he wanted to shut it up. 

Wilbur smelled appetizing. He knew he would taste even better. 

But he knows he can’t act on his urges because even if swallowing a borrower was safe, he couldn’t. Not for Wilbur, because he just got off a near-death experience, and he can’t fuck up freedom even more for Wilbur by giving him essentially the exact same experience, no matter how reassuring he thought he could be. 

So, instead, he chose comedy over a very real and threatening problem.

(*)

“You reek of chocolate,” Tommy murmurs, opening the door to the apartment and letting it shut loudly behind him. Wilbur flinches, but calms down just as quickly.

“I don’t remember seeing a mini-flat in the, uh, bag,” Wilbur retaliates.

Tommy, playfully, scoffs. “Well, like I think I could fill up a sink or something and you could get the grime off of you,” the blond offers.

Wilbur pauses for a moment. “I guess ..?” he says, slow and uncertain.The idea was more than pleasing, but at the same time, it felt like an awful offer to take up. He would be vulnerable in water, arguably something that he rarely had experience with outside of an unfortunately occasional shower whenever he could score it.

At his approval, Tommy guided the two of them to a bathroom, and carefully drew his hand up to where Wilbur was, not grabbing at him, but letting Wilbur carefully pad is way off of Tommy’s shoulder and onto his laid-out hand, where Wilbur got himself comfortable—while at the same time leaving time to sprint off if he needed to—and waited for Tommy to set him down onto the bathroom counter. 

Shifting over to be in front of the sink, Tommy then pushes something inside the sink down, then pulls both handles to the sink forward, and leaves the flowing water gushing for a few seconds before shutting it off and stepping aside. 

“That water will either be fucking freezing or room-temperature but I can’t exactly change that, so, uhm, just sit through it, I guess,” Tommy says. Wilbur can’t exactly tell if he was apologizing or not, but he appreciated the warning.

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Wilbur shrugs. 

“That’s the spirit!” Tommy laughs, then grabs something off of a shelf, folding it over the counter but letting a corner of it fall into the sink, which Wilbur considers relieving; the sink seemed too deep for his liking.

But, even with the advantage of the towel, he still wasn’t convinced this was something he was looking forward to. From afar, he can feel Tommy’s stare on him. He turns his head that way, and catches Tommy’s strong gaze. Snapping out of some kind of pseudo-trance, Tommy moves closer to him and sets something in the sink.

“I can’t really portion out soap yet, but here’s a spare bar I haven’t opened yet. Should help; you smell so sweet I swear to fuck if you don’t take a bath I’m going swallow you on accident,” Tommy says, yawning. He fucking yawns, meanwhile Wilbur’s whole world halts. He stares up at Tommy, who he had just an hour ago been raving about his trust with.

He had heard Tommy right, no doubt.

“What?” Wilbur asks through his shock. 

Tommy wrinkles his brows, then unwrinkles them as they raise high and his face goes more shocked than Wilbur’s. 

“Oh—nononononono, Wilbur, fuck. Wil, I’m so tired, I fucking—I didn’t mean to say that,” Tommy backtracks immediately. Wilbur can’t say he buys it. “I didn’t fucking— I wasn’t thinking, fuck, I swear to Prime I don’t want to do that, I’d never—” Tommy makes a choked noise and cuts himself off.

Wilbur swallows, unsure of how to respond. Clearly, he has some kind of high-ground here despite being…well, him.

“I–uh,” Wilbur’s voice runs almost dry. “There’s no reason to lie,” Wilbur says. 

Tommy’s face falls. “I’m not lying, I—I didn’t think about what I was saying, I’m a fucking idiot, I am not a..a thinker or whatever the fuck it’s called,” Tommy tries. Still. Persistent motherfucker.

“You’re thinking about that,though,  aren’t you?”

“Uhh….well,” Tommy pauses. “As a joke..obv—obviously, you actually think I’d…want to hurt you like that?”

“Swallowing me isn’t going to hurt me.”

Tommy seemed a little taken-aback by that. “Mentally. It will mentally.” Wilbur shrugs at that, staring into the pool of water that’s gotten a little foamy the longer the soap bar floats around in it. “I, uh, think I’ll go. Put away groceries and shit.”

Wilbur watches intently Tommy pick his pace up and walk past him, (Where Wilbur’s attention was nowhere but Tommy’s hands, which remained eerily still), then out of the bathroom with a solemn click of the door.

And now, Wilbur has been left alone, after a particularly jarring comment that leaves him wondering just how much longer Tommy will go playing the good guy. He did have to be thinking about swallowing him to have said it, accidentally or not. It was an intentional thought. He wasn’t that stupid.

Trying to drive his attention away from his inevitable fate, he turns his attention to the sink. The water’s temperature has probably dropped already, so with slight hesitation, he undresses and finds a way into the sink, (Which in the end was trying-to-inch-his-way-down-then-falling-in), then rests with the feeling of water against him. It was an alien feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. He waved his hand around the soapy water and heard it whoosh around him. That was real. The sink bowl that towered above him was real, and as he touched it, it felt cold and slippery against his touch. 

Wilbur looks up, and the light fixture above him burns into his eyes. That was real. 

He pinches himself. That was real, and he was still alive, through the world of darkness for only a lonely period of his life that’s over now.

—–—

[scorpiussage]

The Ghost of Margate Manor

(Alfie Solomons x Reader) - Oneshot 

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Y/N

Summary: Everyone in Margate knows the mansion on top of the hill is haunted. Y/N finds this out first hand. 

Warnings: none, swearing 

Everyone who lives in Margate knows that the mansion on top of the hill is haunted. They say some gruesomely ugly ghost haunts the corridors and eats those who trespass. Really, it’s all rubbish, but when you’re five drinks deep like Y/N is, the idea doesn’t seem so far fetched. Her friends are no help, either, as they are also horrendously drunk and daring her to break into the manor if she’s so sure there’s no ghost. 

That was thirty minutes ago and now that Y/N is standing at the top of the hill next to the mansion, she’s suddenly worried that those tall tales might be true. Her friends are all waiting at the bottom of the hill, though, and she absolutely cannot go back without following through; she’d never live it down. So here she is, rock in hand, breaking into a side patio door into what used to have been a ballroom of some kind. The few pieces of furniture (and the chandelier) are all covered in eerie white sheets that billow in the breeze from the open doorway. 

Tamping down on her fear, Y/N continues forward, exiting the ballroom into the main corridor. That’s all the further she gets before she encounters him. 

…

Alfie is just trying to enjoy his first night on his own. Since getting shot in the face by that Peaky cunt, he’s been laid up in bed being tended to by nurses and maids. But now, now, he’s finally healed enough to be alone for extended periods of time and he’s been looking forward to it for months. 

He’s got a nice pot of tea, hot and ready, his newspaper in his hand and a big fire in the hearth. With an excited giggle he moves to sit down in his favorite chair when he hears the sound of glass breaking. He looks at the pot of tea and newspaper forlornly, already knowing that the relaxation of this night is gone. Throwing down his newspaper, he surges out into the hallway while readying his pistol, ready to kill the fucker who thought it was a good idea to break into Alfie Solomon’s house. 

Something rams into his chest and lets out an ‘oof’. Raising his brow in surprise, he looks down at who broke into his house. 

It’s a woman, a tiny one at that, and she reeks of bourbon like there’s no tomorrow. She looks up at him, the color draining from that pretty face of hers. 

Before Alfie can say something, she shrieks, “Ah! A ghost!” 

And then she punches him in the face. 

Alfie lets out a loud curse and clutches his sore cheek. Little bit got him right on his wounded side too, “What the bloody fuck was that for?!”

They stare at each other for a long moment before the woman drunkenly asks, “Wait, you’re not a ghost?”

“I’m fuckin’ what?” he demands, reaching out and grabbing her by her arm. 

She gapes up at him stupidly, and says, “Everyone in Margate knows that this mansion is haunted.” 

What sort of looney bin did he move to? 

“Well as you can clearly see, I am not a ghost, love. Now, why the fuck are you in me house?”

The woman doesn’t get a chance to answer because in the next moment she’s bending over and vomiting all over Alfie’s slippers. Yeah, the peace that he’d been promised tonight is long gone. 

…

Y/N wakes up with a pounding headache and a terrible taste in her mouth. She looks around herself in confusion. She’s in some plushly decorated bedroom with extravagant curtains and warm hand carved furniture. This doesn’t look like her room or the room of anyone she knows. 

Looking to her left, she sees a man slouched down in an armchair, his loud snores telling her he’s asleep. 

That’s when she remembers what happened and feels a wash of horror and embarrassment overcome her. God, she was such an idiot and to top it all off she assaulted this poor man. Reaching over, she gently shakes the man’s shoulder to wake him. He does so with a snort and he squints over at her with a contemplative gaze. 

“I just want to say that I am so terribly sorry,” Y/N says while wringing the edge of the blanket on her lap, “I can’t believe I broke into your house! I will pay for whatever repairs that are needed, I swear.” 

The man smacks his lips as he takes in what she’s just said before he reaches his hand out, “‘It’s alright, love. No harm done. I’m Alfie.” 

He’s an oddly handsome man under his unkempt beard and the large scar on his face. And his hands are large and warm as they engulf hers in a handshake. Y/N introduces herself in return. 

“Surely there’s something I can do to make it up to you? I did break your window after all,” she tells him fretfully while climbing out of the bed.

 He watches her while rubbing his chin and says, “Yeah, ‘suppose there’s one thing you could do.” 

That’s how Y/N finds herself returning to the not-so-haunted manor later that night and having dinner with a one Alfie Solomons. 

[shieldofiron]

As a celebration for unshadowban- trans alpha Billy?

Background on this AU here, for the uninitiated. Basically it's omegaverse, but you can be trans-designation as well as transgender. So Billy is Cis, but he's trans omega to alpha. And Steve is an omega, but transitioning FTM, pretending to be an alpha. There’s a whole munver side to this that of course I’m obsessed with, but let’s stick to the ask. Rated M but no doing it! For now...

Billy swipes at the sweat on his forehead, shuffling down to flop to the floor under the bleachers. He hadn’t wanted to shower after gym, because hormones cost money and it’s not like he’s swimming in it. The Alpha gel mixes with the sweat on his neck and makes him feel grosser than gross, but there’s only one period left before the end of the way.

He digs through his shorts packets for a cigarette when he hears a whimper to his left.

It’s pretty dark under here, just tiny slats of light creating stripes in the darkness. Billy squints anyway, like that might help.

“Hello?” He calls out softly, “Who’s back here?”

Hopefully it’s not Carol and Tommy. Once he walked in on them at a party, and the whiny, needy way Tommy called Carol ‘Alpha’ would haunt Billy’s nightmares forevermore.

The whimpers don’t stop, and if anything when Billy stands and moves towards the sound, they get worse.

“Is someone hurt?” Billy whispers, “Hello?”

His foot brushes up against something soft and he kneels down and touches something soft. Gym towels, it feels like.

“Hello?” Billy reaches forward in the darkness, “Are you okay?”

There’s some shuffling, and then big brown eyes come into view through one of the ribbons of lights, blinking back at him. He’d know them anywhere, though the smell that Billy doesn’t recognize. It tickles at his senses, a strange smell so unlike Harrington that he immediately backs away.

“S-sorry, couldn’t see that you were back here with someone,” Billy mumbles.

“Alpha,” Harrington says, in a strange, cracked voice.

“Uh, yeah man,” Billy turns away swiftly, “Said I was sorry.”

“Alpha, stay,” Harrington whispers.

Billy’s brow furrows, but he keeps walking away, still trying not to make too much noise.

“Billy,” Harrington moans, and the sound seems to echo in his chest.

“Uh,” Billy freezes, “You... hurt or something? You have your rut?”

Billy would help him through it, if it wouldn’t make him feel sick to do it. Billy’s still in the early days of his transition, or at least it feels that way. Hormones swim through his blood in a strange way, half heat, half rut, and he’s horny as hell most of the time. But being Harrington’s omega for now would actually be too much, too much of a funhouse mirror held up to his desires.

And Harrington really was too beautiful for Billy’s own good. Too beautiful to look at head on, he had to stick to glances from across a room. He didn’t know if he wanted the other alpha or if he wanted to be him. Either way, it was too much, overwhelming.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, “Help-”

“I can find a teacher, we can get you home-”

“Need you, alpha. Billy, I need you,” Harrington groans, “Please, stay, please, please.”

Being called alpha sets a warm fire in Billy’s chest that burns so brightly he exhales a little sigh. He’s so elated it takes him a moment to really hear the other words.

“Harrington,” Billy steps forward and nearly jumps when Harrington reaches out and grasps his wrist.

“Heat,” Harrington gasps, “Need you.”

His hand really is burning up. Billy reached out with his other hand, dropping his forgotten cigarettes somewhere in the darkness. He’s drawn to Harrington’s forehead, somewhere above those pleading eyes. Harrington’s on fire, damp with sweat, his hormones are pulsing in the air.

Billy’s body responds so swiftly, almost violently. He cramps low in his stomach, and begins to fill out his shorts, exhaling softly.

“You’re an...”

Harrington shakes his head, “You can’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Are you... transalpha?” Billy whispers. He almost says, ‘like me’ before he remembers himself. His dad would shit himself if the word got out that his kid was transalpha. Male omegas were valuable, and sometimes it was the only thing that ever seemed to bring Billy value to his father. Billy’s walking on a tightrope too, he would understand if Harrington did the same.

Harrington shakes himself again, “Omega. I’m just... trans.”

Billy’s eyes widen. He’s heard of this though. Transgender Men or Women who wear scent patches to pass as alpha, because it’s safer than being a beta or omega. No one would dare fuck with King Steve unless he fucked with them first. It was part of the whole bitchy, alpha package. And Billy’d bought it hook line and sinker.

“I won’t tell,” Billy whispers, “Who can I get to help you? The nurse?”

Someone must know in this godforsaken town.

“Stay with me,” Harrington begs, his scent slamming into Billy’s senses again, and nearly sending him to his knees.

“I... I...” Billy whispers, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do,” Harrington whines, “I do. Really... I... I want you. Please, help me, and I’ll show you.”

“Harrington-” Billy whispers.

Harrington leans up, tugging on Billy’s arm at the same time, and even though Billy’s mind is filled with anxiety, his body goes easily into the arms of his crush. Harrington throws his arms around Billy’s shoulders, heat enveloping them both like a blanket and Billy’s hips jerk of their own volition.

“Please,” Harrington whispers, “I like you, Billy.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Harrington tugs and Billy kneels in the makeshift nest, drawn by instinct and those brown eyes, the warmth of Harrington, hidden here in the dark.

“But I’m not...” Billy swallows, “Not a real alpha yet.”

Harrington leans in, smells at the juncture of Billy’s neck, presses a tiny kiss against Billy’s skin, and it feels like a burn.

“Yes, you are,” Harrington groans, “Fuck, Billy... I like you so much.”

Billy could blame it on the heat. But his resolve crumbles so easily, in his heart of hearts he knows that isn’t true. It’s fucking Harrington, and those pretty brown eyes, and the softness of the way he’s speaking.

“I like you too,” Billy admits, so quietly.

“Then show me, alpha,” Harrington whispers, before he finally presses his lips to Billy’s.

They’re both on fire, bodies twining together, writhing with desire. But the kiss is so soft, tender. It’s like a cool drink of water in the desert, and Billy would drink in every drop Harrington will allow him.

---

@intothedysphoria I hope you like it! Yay unshadowbanned!

[dailycass-cain]

Batgirls 2022 Annual Review

Batgirls Annual 2022 begins the series' fourth arc and clearly has ramifications being teased that'll change the Batgirls forever. But was it good? And what of the changes that pertain to Cass?

I'll start off with the negative. I found the issue to be pretty-- meh. For an annual, the story felt like a breeze to read. Compared to say Nightwing (which also came out) and had so many stories to it.

Also, the concept of the issue itself I just don't feel like was used to the full extent it could've been. I mean we still have an issue left. But.. there are possibilities here that are teased in the issue. Steph seeing the world thru Cass's eyes. Maybe even having her body reading abilities. It's teased in the issue, and it is also kind of obvious Cass (while in Steph) is oblivious to the trap that's sprung.

But man oh man. Cass really takes a stupid pill by the issue's end. Just a few pages ago she and Steph were fighting the Hill's Angels. Suddenly, she's cool with them? EVEN UNMASKING?! What the heck Cass?!

The whole scene just feels so very rushed to begin with. I'd just had Cluemaster get the better of her, given well Cass is in Steph's body and can't see body language. Aka what actually befell her in a certain infamous Tec issue.

It also just feels so unCass. And it's just gnawing at me how stupid the scene was.

But it isn't what unsettles me Cass/Steph investigating a double murder which leads too-- League of Assasins. Oh, joy. Lady Shiva is appearing in this issue and she's not even part of them but STILL feels tied to the hip with the group.

It doesn't help that it appears she's also the prime suspect in the case. But I digress we're only part one in this arc.

I'm just more haunted at the past stories with Asian female characters at DC and them dropping all characterization at the drop of a hat. So they can be coldly evil to their children.

It's just that Shiva feels distant here to Cass. Even with the crossroads, the two made in Batman & the Outsiders two years back.

I'm getting an awful bad flashback to Shado did to Emi (Percy's Green Arrow they were on good terms. Teen Titans Shado decides to try and kill Emi 🙃) so far with Shiva's appearance here. I really hope writers Conrad and Cloonan don't be predictable with the outcome here.

But I digress. The wild card being Jervis Tetch aka the Mad Hatter hanging around the place has me to believe someone put him up to this with the Batgirls in this issue.

There was also one tiny nitpick as well I had with the issue. Namely, Robi Rodriguez draws Cass with such long hair. It just feels jarring to see Cass with these long locks.  A little copy/paste of looking like Steph this issue BEFORE the body swap.

So with all these gripes I'll get to what I did enjoy about the issue. Like I said prior the opening with Cass at the art museum was *chef's kiss*. Likewise, I'm glad the series is continuing on with Rebirth Cass wanting to overcome her reading disability.

It's just.. I wish we saw it more in the book itself. Save well four issues out of thirteen at this point.

We might be getting just that. As this issue teases a big new status quo.  Babs is leaving the Hill and moving back into the Clocktower (so this links up with the current Batman comic).

Honestly, from beginning to end this was the best written Barbara Gordon in the entire series so far. We finally get to see a layer of Babs' character peeled back this issue. It was really good.

Likewise, she has her own snooping to have in this arc trying to fix the pair's body swap issue. I'm really curious how this subplot will end and where this goes for Babs on the book now. Is Batman and Nightwing her only main books now?

I also like the little moments of Cass sprinkled prior to the body swap too. Freaking out over the League of Assassins (given well she has dealt with them, Steph hasn't). My question does this subplot relate to the goings on in Detective Comics?

The other BIG thing is the Cass/Steph bonding this issue. It's cute. Probably the big highlight as they cope with Babs going, but also being there for one another.

Then there's the time capsule plot introduced in the issue. You know this is gonna be used in #15. It just SCREAMS it'll be.

More so when it is even teased later in the issue just what Steph's letter might be for Cass.

Wait-- is this happening? Are we getting something here or being baited again? Cause I feel like I heard this story before in Future State Batgirls but never them fully going with it only allusions.

So yeah this was a setback in some areas but a step forward in some. I'm anxious for the next two issues because A.) the art teased so far looks absolutely stunning. B.) utterly fearful if predictably occurs.

But I'll keep myself going into this with an open mind and hopeful that Conrad and Cloonan avoid the past mistakes other writers have done with the murder moms.

I seriously just wish maybe someone can purchase a walkie-talkie sets and get Ram V to constantly say thru them, "AVOID THESE CLICHES! These characters deserve better! They deserve to be fully dimensional characters! FULLY DIMENSIONAL!"

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 71

Wishful Thinking/The Lazarus Experiment

“Wishful Thinking”

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: why is this looking a lot like the one with the ghost ship? I know it’s not. Ok so no one died…I don’t think???

From the recap—I…it shouldn’t cause so many fluttery heart feelings to hear Cas say they were going to smite an entire town, but here we are…I’m gonna miss this Castiel

Ok but like…who on this show ISN’T at least kind of a dick?? You can’t just say that about the Uriel

Your dedication to the job is heartwarming, Dean…has nothing to do with the fact that the ghost is haunting a women’s shower, I’m sure

Stop. Stop. You can’t just name the fake book you’re ‘writing’ supernatural…

“There’s a Bigfoot out there dammit, and he’s a son of a bitch”

I do not remember this episode AT ALL. Wtf is happening?? I know there’s allegedly a wishing well but what are these people even wishing for??

The fairy tales episode I could handle, but this is WEIRD

I am DYING. So this Bigfoot is apparently this little girl’s teddy bear? And the Winchesters are posing as teddy bear doctors to be able to see it…this is fantastic. Omg omg omg how did I block this out of my memory?? The teddy bear who came to life, became human adult size, and is now despairing at the fact that it’s now gained consciousness…but all Audrey wants to do is have tea parties with him, but he’s DEPRESSED depressed…which the boys are calling “lollipop disease” to placate her and get her to leave for a while

I guess the safest thing is to wish for a sandwich (still got E. coli from it)

That’s… that’s a dark wish, Sam. I mean, I get it, but damn.

I bet the kid who stopped chasing the other kids asked Dean if he had a problem is the first wisher…that’s the only reason I can see for including him so far

THE TEDDY BEAR JUST TRIED TO BLOW ITS BRAINS OUT BUT IT HAS NO BRAIN JUST STUFFING SO IT’S STILL ALIVE

It’s not the engagement, that’s too obvious…oh god, she barely has free will.

Hang on, it IS that guy who wished for the engagement?? Then what’s the deal with the mean looking kid???

Can’t believe they hit the invisible kid with the car and…

Oh, THAT’s the point of the mean looking kid. Give him super strength and make him yell “KNEEL BEFORE TODD!!” because…of course his name is Todd. It’s the perfect name. Dean just tried to “with great power comes great responsibility” him and got hit in the face for it

Hoooooooly shit. Hope just got Sam electrocuted out of nowhere.

Oh. Oh, Todd. Aw, but Dean helping him not be bullied anymore anyway.

Sorry, there’s a lot of moving pieces in this episode

Oh no…Dean DOES remember EVERYTHING from hell, and he thinks there’s no helping him and he just has to live with that and shoulder it all alone. I hate it.

“Been On My Mind…”: Nope. 7.

“The Lazarus Experiment”

God…I both can and can’t believe how quickly he tries to just dump Martha…🙄

Ahhhh!!! Mr Saxon mention again 💖

I love that all moms are suspicious of the Doctor

It’s weird to see non-Mycroft Mark Gatiss

Oh, are there—are there some side effects to extremely literal anti-aging?? Who would have seen that coming

Marthaaaaaaa!!! The Doctor does not deserve you and how clever you are!! Bravo you collecting a DNA sample from Not Mycroft

God, I know his DNA is constantly being rewritten but this hurts to see…I mean, kinda. These two aren’t necessarily good people, but the betrayal she suffers…

I think in my 20s I was annoyed with Martha’s mom being this concerned, and maybe she’s still being a TINY TINY bit overbearing (Martha was only gone 12 hours as far as she knows but still thinks there’s no way for Martha to become a doctor if she doesn’t focus??), but she’s not completely wrong

Man, I wish Tish was as suspicious of weird shit as her mother…

Ok but I wouldn’t trust the guy who shaded the Doctor either!!!

Oh he’s a MONSTER monster. Bug ass — I mean big ass scorpion looking thing with a terribly CGI’d face holy shit (bug ass really came from me not looking as I typed and it was too funny to let go)

The face doesn’t even look like Mark Gatiss either…..

Is this dude working for Mr Saxon?? That’s the only thing I can think as to why he’s so invested in this Doctor smear campaign

Honestly, this part in the cathedral is beautiful and haunting. You can almost feel bad for the guy…

Taking your sweet old time with that organ, aren’t you Doc?

Is he actually dead this time??

I wish Tish could go on just one trip. I think she’d like that

Episodes Since the Doctor’s Last Attempted Genocide: is it 3 now? This was probably a bad segment. I have a hard enough time keeping track of just the regular day number

[lilsocksiswriting]

Nightly Visitor

Fandom: Haikyuu

Paring: Incubus!Asahi X Fem!Reader

Summary: you finally meet the Incubus who has been haunting your dreams for nights. 

Warnings: Minors DNI, No Beta, Dark content(non/dub-con)

Tags:  spells/enchantments, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise kind, creampie

Word Count: 2k

You've been having this reoccurring dream. All you recall from the dream is a voice telling you, "M'sorry, so sorry." and cumming hard. So hard that you sometimes wake up mid-orgasm. The dreams leave you spent. Even though you've been falling asleep early you still wake up drained. It's gotten so bad that you now lay in bed wondering why even bother trying to fall asleep.

  You feel the bed dip and God dammit you just want one night of sleep-wait

 You bolt upright now more awake than ever. At the end of your bed, there is a man frozen in place like a scared deer caught in the headlight. Though maybe a sheep would be a better comparison as his dark honey-colored horns remind you of one. Those horns that spiral from his soft hair should be what you are most concerned about. They aren't natural but neither is the size of this man's cock.

 You had caught him just as he was crawling into your bed; one knee pressing into the mattress and his opposite foot still planted firmly on the ground. Though as soon as you bottled up in bed, he threw his hand up.

 "M'sorry! I'm so sorry I-I thought you were already asleep.

  You stare at the man in all his naked glory slacked jaw. That was the voice. The one you had been hearing from your dream night after night. This too should be more of a pressing matter than the erection between the man's legs. It curves to the side under its own weight. A bead of clear precum drools from the tip and your eyes follow it down where it makes a dark stain on your duvet. Oh my god, nothing had even happened and the man- what he even human? Looked like he was about to bust.

 “What are you?” the question slips from your lip in your stupor. Really how were you so hung up on a dick when there was a naked man with horns in your bedroom?

 “My name’s Asahi. I ‘m an incubus; a demon who feeds off of sexual energy,” he supplies then goes back to crawling onto your bed. “And I am so hungry.”

 No, you should say no. You should be screaming and pushing the sex demon away, of your bed, out of your house, out of your life he has disrupted with his nightly visits. But Asahi is so much bigger than you. It is so easy for him to push you back down onto the bed while the shock is still fresh in your system. Now that he’s fully on top of you, trapping your waist under his weight and caging you between his arms on either side of you, there is nothing that you can do but plead to the demon to spare you for just one night.

 “Pl-please leave me alone. I can’t do this another night.”

 “Nonono, you totally can. I know you can. That’s why I keep coming back to you,” Asahi reassures.

 Something is happening. As the demon cups your cheek in one of his big hands, he gives you a soft smile. Your mind gets foggy as soon as the warmth from the palm of his hand seeps into your skin. There is a heat that spreads across your body that no matter how much you squirm won’t go away. You hear yourself moan which seems to put the nervous demon at ease.

 “See how good you are for me. Falling under my spell so easily like such a good girl.”

 There’s this tiny part of you that knows you should be scared but hearing that deep voice call you a good girl makes you want to melt. And you do. You essentially become puddy under the demon’s hands. Asahi peels back your covers. Admires how little that tank top and cotton shorts cover-up. You can only whimper as the demon strips you out of what little clothes you wore to bed. He takes his time with this part of his nightly ritual. He loves the way that his fingers dip into the supple fat of your thigh and how your tits feel squeezed in his hands. 

The fog starts to clear from your mind when Asahi’s hands remove themselves from your body momentarily. In this moment of clarity, you try to escape. Flipping yourself over onto your stomach you scramble to crawl away. The demon’s quick to grab your hips and pin them to the bed. Feeling the weeping tip of his cock slide against the small of your back you let out another one of those whimpers that sounds about as close to heaven as Asahi is ever going to get. 

 “Please don’t try and run from me,” Asahi’s tight voice makes the warming sound more like he’s begging.” That’s just goanna excite me more and I’m trying so hard to go easy on you.”

 You can’t seem to think of any sort of reply or retort. Not even another attempt at pleading to the incubus to just leave you alone. With his hands on you once more your mind fogs back up.

 Everything feels hot. Your skin, Asahi’s hands as they pull at your hips up so that your ass is up in the air, each breath you take, especially between your legs. That’s where you feel it the worst. Asahi’s form leans over you and even the new proximity feels hot. You think that this is it. He’s going to take you again. He’s going to leave you so fucked out you won’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow morning.

 What he does instead is grab one of your pillows and slips it under you. Asahi is a demon but he's a monster. Ok, maybe a little since he has you trapped under him and his spell. You barely have time to register the kind act because in the next moment he is slipping his hand between your thighs and running his fingers along your folds. 

 You almost sob. You were so wet that the demon has no problem slipping two fingers inside you. You didn't think the unwanted touch would feel so good. Relief and pleasure wash over your body. In the wake of the feeling, you find yourself wanting more. You need more. There’s still some small part of sanity somewhere inside telling you that this isn’t consensual and asking about a condom, but it can’t stop your hips from rocking back against Asahi’s fingers. 

 “That’s a good girl,” the demon purrs. A delighted moan follows when he feels you squeeze around his fingers.

  You look at the duvet clenched in your fists. Ashamed that Asahi doesn't have to do any of the work because you’re fucking yourself on his fingers.

 Then Asahi adds another then a fourth, and you've lost. Everything feels too good. You’re too far gone for any common sense to reach you. If this was bad, then why did it feel so good? If it wasn’t consensual then why were you the doing the work?

 There's a string of slickness when Asahi pulls his fingers away. He can't have you cumming yet. Asahi needs you to cum on his cock. He's so hungry his mouth is watering as he lines himself up to your empty hole. 

 Asahi enters you with one swift movement of his hips. Both of you moan. You are so tight, and you can’t understand how he fits so snuggly inside you. You can’t even move your hips anymore because of the grip the incubus has on them, but you so desperately want him to move.

 “Please,” you’re begging in a much different tone now, “Need you to move. Please Asahi, I need you to fuck me. Need to cum so bad.”

 You can’t see the giddy smile that crosses the demons. This is why he can’t stay away from you. With just a little charm you fall right under his spell with no fight. You may say and act as if you don't want him. But if the hat were really the case, he would have to put in a lot more work to put you under his spell. 

 Asahi begins thrusting his hips and hisses,” Fuuuck, fuck, you always feel so good around my cock y/n. “

 He knows that he won't last long. He never does and that’s fine because you don't either. The energy is already coming off you and waves and it’s so delicious. 

 You hug the pillow under you and spread your knees more. You can't tell if the moans you hear are from your own mouth or from Asahi’s. All that’s on your mind is the surprise and shock that you're already cumming. Asahi hunches over your body, struggling to keep his rhythm as you wall repeatedly squeeze his cock. 

 He babbles praise after praise about how good you are to him. He can’t imagine any other human who can milk him like you can. And he can’t get enough of it.

 The world blurs and suddenly you are on your back. Asahi’s big hands lift your thighs up and press them to your chest.

 “Wait Asahhh~”, you throw your head back. 

 The incubus wasn't going to give you a break. He doesn't even care how embarrassing the sloppily sounds of his cum being fucked back into you are. Asahi loves everything about you right now. The sloppy sounds your cunt is making when he thrusts back in and how you’re doing such a poor job at hiding your red face. Turing your head and trying to smother it into the comforter while your hands are too busy clingy to the incubus’ shoulders. 

 “No, “Asahi wines. “Don't hide such a pretty face from me. I know you never remember and that’s ok because I know you love it when to tell you about the pretty faces you make while I’m fucking you. “

 And you do. The praise makes you practically melt into the bed. Asahi knows you better than you know yourself. Visiting you nearly every night had made him keenly aware of what made you come undone beneath him. Rolling his hips a certain way. Letting you know how good you are making him feel over and over. He was never good at staying quiet in the first place and you love it when he a moaning mess. 

 “That’s its y/n, yes~ cum all over my cock. Just like that, so good.”  Asahi’s cum spills into your squelching pussy. This time there is so much that you feel leak out down the crack of your ass.

 And as much as the incubus would like to sit back and admire the mess, he’s still so hungry. He is definitely a demon because no human can keep going like him or cum as much. At the rate, things are going the demon's going to fuck you raw, and much to your horror you want him to. 

 “Fuck, your so fucking perfect y/n. Makes me want to keep you forever as my little pet-” Asha gasps when you clench down around him. “Oh, you like that idea?” 

 Of course, you do, and Asahi knows you do because he fantasizes about it out loud every time, he visits you. This just might be the first time you remember it. 

 “Put a cute color around you and keep you with me in the demon realm. You’d have nothing to worry about but satiating my hunger. I’d dress you in nothing but pretty and soft lingerie. Occasional share you with my friends Show them how much a of good girl you can be oh Fuck, just like that y/n, keep squeezing me just like. Keep losing yourself in pleasure. So delicious.”

 Your head is so muddled and lost. You're faintly aware of the drool dribbling across your cheek. You can’t believe you going to cum again? How many would this make? How long had it been since the last time you orgasmed? Surely not that long. Would you survive these back-to-back orgasms? You can. You have to. If you wanted to be Asahi’s good little pet, you’ll learn how to give him one orgasm after the other. As many as he wants. 

 The sad truth is that Asahi knows he can never have you. You would never survive in the demon realm. Too many demons would want such a sweet mortal like you. So, he has to be satisfied with coming back to you every night and fucking until his hunger is bearable or you wake up. Or now that you've seen him awake until you pass out.

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[lokislastlove]

In Memoriam (Dark! Steve, Bucky & Sam x Reader) 2

Summary: After the death of your grandmother you make a trip to visit her old estate, and you discover it may be more trouble than it’s worth.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, ghosts, smut, bondage, thigh riding, spanking, rough sex, oral sex, over stimulation, mentions of death, allusions of abuse. 18+ only peeps, it’s obviously dark.

Notes: well this started as a tiny idea for @charmed-asylum ‘s bingo challenge! (Congrats, love. You’re amazing!) and it kinda spiraled into this craziness. Also there is a surprise guest, but I don’t feel like giving it away so… hope you enjoy! ❤️

Chapter 2:

“You’re out in the woods… alone… in a big haunted house?” Your friend’s voice deadpans through the speaker as you scrape the curling wallpaper.

“It’s not haunted,” you laugh.

“You have already texted me like five times about hearing noises! What do you mean it’s not haunted? Didn’t you just tell me your grandfather died there?”

“Well yeah, but…” you huff.

“Then I rest my case. You should just leave it. Sell it as-is and let the next owner fix it themselves,” she implores.

“Eva, I cant. I miss her… and being here, fixing up this place it just… it feels like the right thing to do,” you sigh, looking around the large once-elegant sitting room.

“I get it,” Eva’s voice softens, “I just wish you weren’t there all by yourself.”

“Maybe I’m not,” you tease, smiling wryly into the phone.

“Ugh, don’t do that! I’m totally going to have nightmares about you being axe murdered by a ghost now,” she groans.

Your laughter echoes through the house, “I promise, I’m fine. Really. I’ll be back in the city for our Sunday brunches before you know it.”

“You better. I miss my weekend girl dates,” she whines.

“Me too,” you admit.

A soft thud sounds from around the corner. Your voice fades as you poke your head around to eye the archway at the end of the hall leading to the spacious kitchen.

“Everything okay?” Eva says after a minute.

“Yeah,” you answer distantly. “I’ll call you later, okay? Have a fun time with DJ guy.”

“Adam,” she corrects, you can practically hear her eyes roll which makes you smirk. “Just be careful ok? Don’t do anything stupid. And if you see a spooky shadow or something, just do me a favor and don’t follow it.”

“It’s not haunted,” you laugh. “Bye, love you.”

“Love you,” she returns.

You hang up and shake your head at her neuroticism. Sure the place isn’t exactly fit for a party, but after four days of cleaning you have to admit it’s not a total lost cause. On day two you dug out the tools from the shed and found a local hardware store in the town about half hour away. Since then, you’ve made good progress on the minor repairs and dusting. So much dusting.

You peel off the strips of paper and set down the putty knife before standing up. Brushing off your dirtied jeans, you tip toe down the hall and peek into the kitchen, readying yourself to scare away another mouse.

It’s not that your afraid of the animals, you just don’t like when they surprise you. This is hardly the first time you’ve encountered rodents, in fact you’d argue its to be expected when you make a living in restoring old houses. So you would think you’d be used to it by now.

The kitchen is empty, but your curiosity compels you to continue searching, certain the noise came from in here. Another thud makes you jump and spin on your heel as you look at the glass door of the butlers pantry. You swallow and steel your nerves as you near the door to slowly push it open.

Two bags of your favorite coffee lay on the ground, one busted open, scattering dark beans all over the tile floor. The single window over the counter is open, the panel swaying slightly in the afternoon breeze.

With a heavy sigh you bend to pick up the coffee, shoveling the spilt beans back into the bag and setting them back up on the counter before closing the window with a snap. Movement catches your eye outside and you pause to squint through the tinted glass.

You gasp at the figure of a man walking around your property and rush out of the pantry. You grab the crowbar from the foyer and head for the back patio doors. The patio is empty, so you descend the mossy steps intent on walking the perimeter just to be sure. You scan the tree line, tension growing with every step and you grip the iron bar tighter in your hands.

“Hello?” calls a man’s voice as you round the front of the house.

Your chest tightens and you hold up the crow bar until you spot him on the front porch. He quickly raises his hands non-threateningly. You lower your hands slightly, but not entirely as you recognize the handsome stranger from the gas station.

“Woah, woah, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he smiles and backs away from the front door, that gap tooth grin putting you at ease.

“What are you doing here?” You demand, still wary.

“My buddies and I are staying not far from here. We saw you pull off the highway the other day and … I don’t know I guess I got bored and decided to be neighborly.”

Your brow furrows a bit at his vague answer, but his voice and easy smile charm you. You lower the bar and he drops his hands with a relieved sigh.

“Sorry, just wasn’t expecting company out here,” you apologize but keep your distance.

“I get it,” he nods. “Can’t be too careful, I respect that.”

You eye him as you cross your arms and he slowly descends the porch steps, walking closer but not too close.

“Well, I’d invite you in but it’s a mess in there.”

He looks up at the old Victorian covered in vines, “it’s a beautiful property. You fixing it up?”

“It was my grandmas. No one has lived in it for quite a while. It needs a lot of work, I’m just trying to figure out how much I can do on my own before I call in my contractor.”

“So you gonna keep it? Or just flipping it?”

You pause at the question, you had never thought about keeping it, but the longer you stay the more connection you start to feel to the place. It’s a bond you’re not sure how to feel about, to be honest.

“I guess we’ll find out,” you shrug.

“Sounds like quite a project. You must be quite the worker bee,” he smirks before recognizing the tension in the air, and likely the mild impatience on your face, “well, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Good luck with the house.”

He gives you a wave before turning and walking back along the driveway, his sneakers splattered in mud as he fails to evade one of the larger puddles. He doesn’t strike you as the woodsman type, too outgoing and neat, and in need of a pair of good hiking boots. As he disappears around the bend, you chew your lip and ponder over the odd interaction. He seems likable enough, but there’s something about him that bothers you.

—

“Hey, it’s me… your sister. The one you sent off to fix the big old house in the middle of nowhere by herself,” you lilt sardonically into the phone. “Look, I know you have your own stuff going on, but I could really use your help here. I mean, it’s not a total disaster, but it sure would go a lot faster with some help.”

You sigh, and fall back onto the bed with the phone to your ear, “I found our old nursery. Its so weird, like walking into a dream or something. I spent most of the day going through old boxes. Pretty sure grandma kept every single picture we ever made – all filed away as if they were something to treasure…” you smile as you picture her face. “I miss her and I just wish you could be here.”

You frown as a drop of moisture wets your cheek, “just call me back, okay?”

You wipe away the drop and another drips onto your finger, making you look up curiously. You spot the start of a water stain on the ceiling and curse in defeat. With a huff you get to your feet and make your way to the door down the hall.

You tap on your flashlight and open the door to the third floor attic space. Carefully you climb the dark narrow stair case and peek around the cold room filled with even more dust and junk. You hear the familiar whine of wind whipping past a cracked window and follow it, maneuvering through piles of old furniture and boxes.

The window along the east wall, above the nursery is broken, one of the bottom panels shattered, allowing the rain to pool on the floor when the wind blows just right.

“Dammit,” you grumble and snag an old rug rolled up nearby to lay over the puddle.

After a quick trip to your supply stash downstairs you manage to patch the broken square with some thick plastic sheeting and duct tape. A temporary fix until you can get a new glass panel. Another task to add to the to-do list.

A soft shuffling echoes from somewhere across the room and you freeze in your tracks. You hold your breath, waiting. The noise starts again, like something dragging slowly across the floor, but you see nothing moving. You let out your breath slowly and hold up your phone as you bend to grab a forgotten table lamp. Raising it to your eye, ready to strike, you take a hesitant step forward.

You breathe heavily through your nose, heart thundering in your chest as you get closer to the noise. It’s coming from the other side of the antique standing mirror and you brace yourself as you jump behind it, yelling as you swing the lamp in front of you. It swishes through the air as your nervous bellow drifts off in the silence of the attic and you realize there’s nothing there.

You feel like an idiot as you frantically search the corner of the dark room. Scolding yourself, you turn to leave when your foot hits something. A small cardboard box lies at your feet with your name on it, written hastily in black marker. The drag marks through the dusty floor behind the box make your stomach twist in apprehension.

You swallow thickly, scanning your surroundings one more time before quickly bending to swap the lamp for the box. Without a second thought you rush for the stairs nearby and retreat back to the nursery where you have been staying, sure to close the door tightly behind you.

Your heart pounds anxiously as you toss the box on the bed, pacing while you stare at it and chew your lip, unsure if you should open it.

“Oh this is ridiculous,” you exclaim and grab the box cutter from your tool kit.

You flick the flaps open to find a stack of old journals and sketch pads, all well worn and filled with messy children’s drawings. You can’t help but laugh as you open up a familiar hello kitty journal covered in barely legible writing, the slanted letters sparkling in rainbow colored gel pens.

“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about these,” you say to yourself, cherishing the nostalgia each item brings.

The wind howls outside, the rain thudding loudly against the window panes. You hear another mysterious creak and groan from somewhere outside the room, eyes instinctually flicking to the door. You ignore it, slowly accepting it as one of the quirks of the old house as you continue sifting through the box.

Your brow furrows when you come across a series of drawings. A stick figure little girl with a taller stick figure boy happily playing together outside a crudely drawn impression of your grandmothers mansion. You pull out your phone with a smile to take a picture to send to your brother, but you stop when you notice the names scrawled under each. You are most certainly the girl in the drawing, the label assures you of that, but the boys name is not your brothers.

Tagging: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen @queenoftheworldisdead @threeminutesoflife @buttercupfangirl @needleandhammer @thiskindahotkindamusic @lokiswildheartcantbebroken @emberenchanted @patzammit @maluisamarvelfan123 @melmarinez7079 @cjand10

[mothwithapencil]

Hi can I just ask for some Ghetsis positivity because I’m sick of everyone around me slandering him

Sorry this is a little late but YES. YES YOU CAN. Big post incoming.

Listen. People hate Ghetsis for completely valid reasons. But people like him, even relate to him, for completely valid reasons too. And I'm sick of people shitting all over Ghetsis and people who like him all the time, even when it's completely uncalled for. I'm sick of having to be "humble" and apologize for liking Ghetsis when introducing myself to people, lest they think I kick puppies and throw babies off cliffs for fun or something. Sick of scrolling his tag and seeing people calling him horrible things or, even worse, targeting his disabilities (physical and mental). Sick of people legitimately claiming he's homophobic, transphobic, even racist just because they don't like him. You do see how that's harmful to people in those groups who like him right. Furthermore, I have the type of RSD where if someone doesn't like a character I like I feel hurt myself. So you can imagine how hellish it is out there. I can't imagine how bad it is for systems with Ghetsis introjects. So for all the completely normal people bearing the curse of simply enjoying a character:

Ghetsis likers! You're valid!

Ghetsis is a very complex, layered character! There's lots to like about him! He's pretty, he's funny, he's tragic, he's a depressed middle aged man.... The list goes on! There's also many valid reasons to relate to him! Ghetsis is implied to have several mental illnesses/disorders/etc that aren't often seen, especially not in a Pokemon game. He's paranoid, he has PTSD, NPD, body dysmorphia, he even shows autistic+adhd traits. He's also a cane user and is popularly interpreted as being an amputee/prosthetic user and having chronic pain from the injuries on his eye/arm/leg/etc. Although him being a villain doesn't do much for "good representation," it's okay for you to see yourself in him! I relate to him for his paranoia, PTSD, and autistic/adhd traits, and that's okay! And some may ask "But N is autistic and likely has PTSD too, why not relate to him instead?" Some may relate to him too! You're allowed to like both of them! Ghetsis and N likers aren't mortal enemies, we're not that different! But not everyone can just choose which characters they attach to. And some may relate to Ghetsis more for a variety of reasons. Ghetsis has a slower, more rough process of healing that may appeal more to some people. You're not obligated to relate to one character over another because the first one isn't a "good guy."

Even if you don't particularly relate to him, you can enjoy him just for the sake of liking him! Some reasons I just think he's a fun character:

His silly "mya-ha-ha-ha!" laugh!!!

The fact that he tries to look intimidating and scary only to call the player in USUM "tiny intruder"

Gee N, your dad is gnc AF!

This picture.

"That blasted Colress! How dare he put his personal intellectual curiosity before our ultimate mission of conquering Unova!" *proceeds to continue spoiling Colress rotten and not doing a single thing to stop him from putting off his work*

The fact that he does so much to make himself seem emotionless but is still clearly very emotional. There's lots of things that confuse and scare him!

His passion! His love for Unovan history and public speaking! (even if he's not the best at delivering them without pacing around and stuttering and trailing off...) (#autism)

His terrible fashion sense. He looks like he fell through a window and got caught on the tapestry. His unexplained love for eye motifs. Me too.

The sheer fact he's such a layered character. There's a lot about Ghetsis that's never directly stated in the games, and much to be picked up from subtle implications. His history as a descendant of fhe Ancient King, his several traumatic life experiences (two separate pokemon attacks, and of course the "memory that has continued to haunt [him]," etc.

His incredibly silly dynamic with Colress. According to pokespe and the RR episode, they've known each other for years, much longer than one would think initially. Trying not to steer too much into antigrav territory, their friendship is unique and funny. They're best friends. They threaten to feed each other to Kyurem daily. As long as they don't get caught, they plan on conquering Unova together. Colress annoys Ghetsis on purpose and Ghetsis responds with ranting about him in private but still raising his paycheck. Chaos duo.

This post is already so long, and I could say more, but to top it off I want to say:

Ghetsis likers who hate N and N likers who hate Ghetsis are the weakest link. As I said earlier, we can enjoy both! Ghetsis enjoyers and N-joyers, we have a lot in common! We both love a very clearly autistic guy with lots of trauma and pretty long hair! It's not a stretch to assume most of us have some parental issues we're coping with by attaching to them! Furthermore, you don't have to "avenge" N by violently hatimg Ghetsis. N still loves his dad, and even if he doesn't have to, he still wants Ghetsis to heal and get better (Cue to... Everything he says to Ghetsis, and even his line when teamed up with him in Pokemas: "I still have hope for you, Ghetsis..."). If he saw the things some of you say about his dad, he'd be horrified. I promise you, saying you want to kick out Ghetsis' cane and take out his other eye just makes you ableist, not a soldier fighting for N's honor. People who like either character aren't at war with each other! I love my N-joyer friends! We can coexist.... Harmonia enjoyers holding hands and singing in a circle...

That's about it! Sorry I'm so passionate about this, I've just seen a ton of hate on Ghetsis lately and I want to combat it. By the way, feel free to send me an ask about any of the stuff I mentioned here!

Please don't interact with this post if you're going to say some mean shit about Ghetsis/his fans or say "he's not actually autistic/disabled etc" "I hate him but..." "You still shouldn't like him because xyz". Please just let this be a happy space for us!!!!

[etherealeeknow]

the fwb rules

• rated m for mature

• pairing: fwb!hyunjin x fem!reader

• wc: 4.559

• tw: explicit language, light characterization of an insecure reader, unprotected piv sex (stay safe, lovelies!), fingering & oral (f), nipple play, cream pie— i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: last time i said long fic isn’t my forte and this time i’ll still say the same hahahahaha. but still, i hope i don’t disappoint 🥺 please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes. feedbacks are always appreciated because i’d love to grow! thank you for waiting and enjoy 💞 pretty banner made by my bestie!! ilysm 😽😽😽

• tag list: @charlieshelves @es-kay-zee @formidxble @oh-my-sparkle @bobateastay @http-hyxnjxn @lyralurexrattle @hyunsluvv @healinghyunjin @sailorhyunjinz

—

what happened to the rules?

it didn’t start off like this. you can’t remember when exactly you started wondering about the five word question. all you know is that you were one bite away from gobbling a spoonful of jisung’s ice cream when it struck you: since when did you and hyunjin stop going by the rules? he’s been occasionally texting you out of the blue lately just to know what you’re up to, and today he even asked you to stay the night at his, and as much as you want to believe they’re all normal, again, it didn’t start off like this. from the beginning, you and hyunjin have come up with three rules so your relationship can work: one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking. but look at you now, lying naked and out of breath under his blanket while facing his ceiling, driving yourself insane over the haunted question. you have to get it off your chest somehow, but how? 

“hey, why so serious?” asks the culprit behind your overthinking, causing you to jump slightly over his sudden appearance and your hands instinctively pull up the blanket to cover your naked chest, which as a result, makes him chuckle. cute. “here. it’s my cousin’s,” adds the topless man as he sits on the edge of the bed and hands you a white shirt that even under the dim light, you can already tell won’t fit you.

“your cousin? the model? hyunjin, she’s tiny,” you utter, hands still gripping onto the blanket. “i’m—“

“you,” he cuts you off, placing a hand on top of yours while carefully glancing at you to make sure you there aren’t any signs of discomfort. “are fine, y/n. now hurry up. i’m sleepy,” he adds before letting go, leaving behind a lingering warmth on your knuckles.

nodding, you turn your back on him to change, and the room falls silent, causing you to hear how fast your heart is thumping even more than it should have. is it because you had too much coffee this morning? or it can probably be because the shirt is too tight that it’s cutting off your air circulation, right? right, of course. you tell yourself because as much as you dislike both reasons, they are still far better than having hyunjin as the cause.

once you’re done, hyunjin already has his back lying against the bedhead, his head tilting slightly to the side, avoiding the light coming from the night lamp on the bedside table, while his eyes bore deeply into yours. unbothered that he’s been caught staring, he averts his gaze downwards till they reach your chest and spot how your nipples are sticking out through the thin fabric.

“see? it fits you just fine,” he says, turning his vision back to your face as he opens his arms and motions them at you, only to have you remain in the same position with your increasing heartbeat.

“aren’t you gonna, uh, wear something?”

instead of a proper answer, all you get is his laugh—hyunjin’s contagious laugh that usually always succeeds in making you laugh too. but today hits differently. has his laugh always sounded this lighthearted before? no matter what the answer is, one thing for sure is that despite how sweet hwang hyunjin and his laugh are, they have never made your cheeks burn like this before, and this is forbidden. it’s against the rules.

“an hour ago we were naked while sucking each other’s face, y/n,” he finally answers after a while. “besides, i always sleep like this. now, come on,” he adds, repeating the same gesture, except this time his hands are open wider, eager to have you near him again because the space around him is starting to make him feel lonely.

complying with him, you fall into his embrace and hyunjin immediately lets his hands travel to the exact places of where they want to be—one around your head and the other around your waist. despite the room turning less cold with his warmth directly passing onto you, your heart and cheeks conditions remain the same especially since you can hear how hyunjin’s heartbeats are beating just as fast as yours when he lets you lay your head on his chest.

“hyunjin,” you call out, hands fiddling with the collar of your shirt.

“y/n,” he replies, replacing the collar with his fingers instead, intertwining them with yours.

what happened to the rules?

“do... do fwb do these?” you ask, the bravery in you finally decide to show up, even just for a little.

“do this?” he asks back while squeezing your hand with all his might, as if he’s nervous.

no. not ‘this’, but ‘these’. not only the hand grabbing, but also the fact that he asked you to stay the night, that he’s cuddling you to sleep, and that you’ve been getting unusual symptoms over them until this very moment.

“yes, this,” you nod and hyunjin becomes muted, but his heartbeats are growing louder, and his grip on you has become tighter.

after what feels like forever, he whispers, voice slightly cracking, and hands getting a little colder, “yes. yes, they do.”

then the two of you become muted, but both heartbeats keep growing louder, and everything stays that way until sleep eventually takes over.

—

as a homebody, you’ve always against the idea of sleepovers. you believe home is the sweetest place and your own bed is the comfiest even when your mattress is older than a decade and your favorite plushie has had too many holes here and there. but waking up in hyunjin’s bed has broken your stigma—never in your whole life that you’d have thought someone else’s bed can provide you twice the comfort.

“looks like someone had a good sleep,” chirps jisung as he sits beside you, causing you to wipe off the smile on your face before going back to your laptop.

“wow suddenly my best friend’s a psychic?”

“hey, that’d actually make a great drama title!” he exclaims and you roll your eyes. “please do spill the tea though. what happened?” he adds.

“what happened?” you ask back, eyes still on the screen, but the corner of your lips are on the verge of breaking into the smile, knowing full well he’ll complain—which he does by lamely calling you a meanie.

laughing, you tell him nothing happened, but the way he rolls his eyes is a sign he’s not taking any of your bullshit. you are telling the truth though. besides spending the night with each other, nothing really happened, right? it was just another casual fucking session. yes, it was amazing, but that’s no news for jisung. the guy’s practically your wingman—setting you up with hyunjin was his idea because he believes you should, “live your life. have that dreamy college sex orelse you’ll regret it like my old man changbin!”

right on cue, a notification popped out on your big screen, and the sender’s name makes your heart pop too.

“aha, see!” jisung points at it. “y/n, where are you?” he reads out loud, earning yourselves all the eyes from every other student in class.

“oh my god, jisung. shut up!” right when you’re about to log out from the chat app, hyunjin sends another one.

“can i call you?” jisung reads once more and you’re only one second away from smacking his head, but your vibrating phone holds you back.

shooting jisung a glare, you make sure to close your laptop before leaving the class, answering hyunjin’s call even when you’re still half way through the door. right when you’re about to greet him hello, hyunjin beats you to it—his voice a bit raspy, but the softness in his tone still lies within, and it creates endless questions in your mind.

has he just woken up? so is this how he sounds in the morning? why is he calling?

and the list goes on because this isn’t like hyunjin at all. sure, he’s not validating the rules, but he’s breaking his character despite already alarming you to anticipate morning booty calls from him at times. he’s never actually done that though. 

“hi,” you reply, startling yourself with how small your voice came out.

“you left,” says hyunjin and you can hear him sighing from the other line, which somehow causes a slight pang in your heart, wondering if perhaps he is disappointed. “can you come back? wait, actually, let me go to you instead.” he says and you can hear the rustling sounds coming from his side.

“hyunjin, i have class. that’s why i left. i—” should you apologize? but why should you? casual, no strings attached, and no fucks given, remember? “i’m sorry.”

“oh.” hyunjin stops on his track before plopping back down onto the bed, smiling. “i’ll pick you up after class then. when will you finish?”

unconsciously, a smile creeps up your face too, but the realization hits you right after, then followed by the five word question, and you know—you know this is your guts telling you that now’s the time to ask him about it, but your heart hates confrontation. plus, wouldn’t it be rude to reply to someone else’s question with a question? “hyunjin, are you, uh, horny?”

just like yesterday, hyunjin laughs, and with the raspiness in his voice still present, he doesn’t fail to make you laugh along, but at the same time waking the butterflies in your stomach and makes you rethink your decision. mayhaps, you should’ve left him a note or told him that you’ll leave early in the morning; or even, you should’ve ditched classes today and stayed so when he wakes up, you can get him a glass of water, not leaving the boy uncared for like this. but who are you to do so? 

“isn’t it normal for a guy to have a morning wood?” he jokes before quickly adding that he’s not horny. “i just want to see you so let me go get you.”

pressing your lips together, you contemplate on whether you should let him. if you do, won’t you be turning whatever the two of you have right now into something far more complicated? but it’s only until hyunjin adds a desperate “please?” that all of your dilemma disappears, as if you’re being cast into his spell—“okay.”

—

while heading to the gate, you have the biggest urge to book a massage appointment. dodging jisung’s questions and running away from him after the first period was draining, but having to spend the day running back and forth between two buildings because thinking that volunteering as the lecturers’ teaching assistant was draining on a whole new level. other than feeling like your legs are gonna come off, your mind also feels like it’s gonna blow off—you can’t stop recalling all the things you need to start working on as soon as possible, but stepping into hyunjin’s car turns everything to 180 degrees.

you’d like to think that it’s because of the faint lavender aroma coming from his car freshener along with the heavenly cool air conditioner, but no. you know full well it’s because of the way hyunjin’s smile lit up, his eyes disappear into two small crescent moons, and his blonde hair which is becoming one with the warm orange sky that brings peace to your heart.

“hi,” he breathes out the moment you close the door, and you do the same except for looking at him, which causes hyunjin to furrow his eyebrows while speeding away.

the way home is silent, just the way you like it, but you know full well that it’s not hyunjin’s cup of tea. he doesn’t need to say it, his action is showing it all as he’s been fidgeting non stop, wiping his sweaty palm along his jeans while occasionally licking his plump lips. hyunjin’s a very vocal person. he’s talkative and loud—including in bed. you press your warm cheeks over the realization of your own thoughts, embarrassed. you can’t possibly suspect hyunjin for being horny in the morning when you yourself are being like this in the afternoon. it’s uncalled for.

noticing you from the corner of his eye, hyunjin calls out, asking you if there’s anything wrong, totally catching you off guard. what should you say? lying is not your forte, but being honest clearly isn’t the best option right now, at least, not before you shower and appear presentable in front of him—but wait, since when did that matter so much? a few months ago, you even fucked after you ran a marathon.

“y/n?” calls hyunjin for the second time.

“look, hyunjin, really, it’s okay if you’re horny. you can pull over and i can, uh, relieve you and i can just take the bus home after,” you spit out shamelessly while looking at him straight in the eyes, eager to get far away from hyunjin as fast as possible before you go out of your mind.

just like the night before, hyunjin laughs. and just like the night before, his laugh hits differently and it does nothing other than burning your already burnt cheeks for the worse.

“i swear to god, y/n, i’m not horny. i genuinely want to take you home. nothing more,” explains hyunjin, head straight at the road but eyes repeatedly stealing glances at you. “and nothing less,” he adds, voice barely audible but you caught it.

“o— oh.” is all you manage to respond before the ride quickly turns quiet and hyunjin’s hands begin fidgeting again, all the while you’re trying to decode what he has just said—what does he mean by genuinely wanting to take you home? do fwb do this too? what happened to no fucks given?—and it goes on until hyunjin hits the break in front of your old apartment building.

“we’re here,” says hyunjin, breaking the silence by unlocking the car door.

“we’re here,” you repeat after him, already opening the door and setting a foot out. “uh, thank you.”

“don’t mention it.” hyunjin shoots you his signature smile the moment you lower yourself to meet his eye level from outside the car; this time, you have no choice but to fall under his spell.

“hey, uh, you wanna come in?” you ask, biting your lower lip as a way to punish yourself for being so indecisive. one second you want to run away from him and the next second you want to be near him. come on, get a grip.

as if the punishment isn’t enough, hyunjin declines your offer, all while chuckling with his head thrown back. “for the third time, y/n. i’m not horny. go in and rest up.” 

“if you say so.” you shrug, giving him a small smile before turning around, making sure not to look back, only to fail when you hear the engine driving away.

—

you can’t quite tell—no, you can’t tell. you don’t get it. there’s an unexplainable empty space in your heart that is caused by hyunjin’s rejection. is it because you’re just not used to see him without having to fuck him? or is it because you’re hurt over the fact that he’s not in the mood to touch you? is it because of last night? is he finally sick of your flaws? things would probably be different if you had retouched your makeup or at least combed your hair before seeing him, would they? either way, you’re fully aware you shouldn’t be torn over your friend with benefits, yet your aching heart says otherwise.

and so when the doorbell rings only a few seconds after you get in and the figure you see through the peephole is no other than the man in question, you spare no time to swing the door open. hyunjin, in return, spares no time to lock his lips with yours right after he utters a brief apology. just like the way hyunjin sneaks his playful hands down your ass, you sneak your tongue in his mouth, and your action makes him smile into the kiss as he leads you back into the room and kicks the door shut with his long legs.

the way to your bedroom is actually pretty short, but with your tongues moving in sync, bodies pressing—glued, even, and eyes continuously closing in pleasure, the short way to your bedroom consists of endless stumbling, tripping, and bumping the door. once inside, you break the kiss and are about to undress yourself when hyunjin beats you to it, settling you down on the bed as he begins taking off your attire one by one ever so effortlessly. and in just a matter of seconds, his lips are back on yours again, floral scented hair falling and brushing against your cheeks, leaving you no time to wonder over the fact that it’s the first time hyunjin has ever undressed you. 

as the kiss continues, you can feel yourself gushing more and more that you start grinding on him mindlessly, needing to feel more than just his bulge poking you. your hands leave his blonde strands to tug on his hoodie, only to have him stop you—one hand around your grip and the other rests on your hip.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“need you. need to feel you,” you mumble, desperation so visible through your cracked voice. 

“what happened to the girl who was all flustered to sleep with me last night just because i was shirtless?”

autumn nights aren’t supposed to be hot, but hyunjin has proven he has the power to make the impossible happen just with his words and mocking smirk. but the rising heat on your cheeks is nothing compared to the emptiness you feel below, clenching around nothing surely isn’t the best feeling.

“please, jinnie,” you whine, tugging on his hoodie once more, hips moving against his hold.

“fuck.” is all he manages to say before getting off the bed to disrobe himself—hoodie and track pants thrown across the room, now showcasing his toned body and thighs altogether as he hovers over you.

“please take this off too. it looks suffocating,” you say, index finger running faintly through the bulge forming from his tight boxer, making it stand up even more and hyunjin has no choice but to obey you. “put your hair up too please,” you add just when he’s about to dive right back in, and again, your wish is his command.

biting to pull off his hair tie from his wrist, hyunjin smoothly ties his hair back and you’re only given a few seconds to admire his feature before his plump lips coming in contact with your hardened nipple while he toys with the other using his fingers—rubbing and pinching, making your breath hitch over the sensation, fingers digging into his bare shoulders because you don’t want to mess up his hair, and hyunjin’s low grunts pretty much indicate he’s loving it.

“more, please. give me m—”

hyunjin retreats his hand and tongue away from your breast, moving them to your naked pussy,  drawing circles on your outer labia with his middle finger. he teases you just enough and quickly slides in his digit and at the same time sucks on your clit right before you’re about to complain, making you tingle from head to toe.

“you hear that?” he asks, voice muffled, the effect of being too tongue tied from licking every part of your heat, but finger working its magic perfectly, creating loud wet noises from your fluid. “drenched. my pretty y/n is drenched,” says hyunjin, and as much as you want to comment on him for the pet name, you’re too caught up on how his lips vibrate against you the moment he starts palming himself with his unoccupied hand. if he keeps it up, you know you would come undone there and then, and you don’t want that—not yet. so you ask him to stop and he instantly does as told.

“what’s wrong? did i hurt you?” there’s fear written across his expression and heard from his tone, but you’d like to believe your eyes and lips are just playing tricks on you.

“n— no. i just,” you pause to avoid his gazes, but something within you pulls your attention back on him. “i wanna cum with you inside me,” you confess, voice barely audible due to embarrassment; all this time, it’s always been hyunjin to say such things, but perhaps, all the strange tension lately has finally gotten the best of you. you hear him mutter a low “fuck” while his pupils shakes for a brief moment before they somehow appear a shade darker. licking his lower lip, hyunjin pulls you by your legs and rests them on his shoulders, and proceeds to align his tip with your entrance, once again teasing your throbbing core.

the moment you whine is the moment hyunjin pushes himself inside ever so gently, but the stretching still has you throwing your head back, while hyunjin letting our airy moans upon your walls clenching around him. none of you can tell how it’s possible for your vagina to remain so tight after all the countless fucking session for the past half year, but hyunjin doesn’t find that troubling. in fact, he lives for that and it shows from the way his eyes roll to the back of his head as he begins thrusting in and out of you—slowly but steady, veiny hands secured on your hips, vision goes back and forth from your half-lidded eyes to your parted lips.

hyunjin leans down to kiss you for a couple of seconds, and when he lets go, he quickens his pace—leaning down once more so his length can go deeper in you, hitting your g-spot. at that very moment, you mentally praise yourself for placing the bedroom mirror right across the bed. it presents you with the magnificent view of hyunjin’s rounded, firm ass bouncing rhythmically whenever he snaps his hips, and placing your hands around them, squeezing them, nearly makes you drool over the sight. with hyunjin constant thrusts, the familiar knot in your abdomen starts to bubble up.

“oh my god,” the two of you whimper in unison as hyunjin begins to lose his tempo, moves also grow sloppy, but never once misses your spot.

“y/n, i— ah— i’m so close. fuck,” he breathes out, sweat forming on his forehead, wetting his baby hair down to his neck and chest, and you can only drool helplessly at the sight.

“me too. please cum inside me, cum with me, hyunjin, please, please,” you beg, voice a pitch higher, almost sounds like you strain your throat, and it stays the same. when you feel hyunjin twitch inside you, your hands automatically reach for the bed sheet again, but it only lasts for a second before they’re being taken by hyunjin’s own hands—he has never done this. while intertwining your fingers, his cock twitches again and his eyes roll to the back of his head, jaw falls open as he calls out your name—you naturally do the same, fingers pressing flat against his white knuckles

“hyu—”

“cum, baby,” he cuts you off, averting his hazy eyes on you, and that’s all it takes for you to break—your orgasm washes over you like waves and you cum undone around hyunjin, shaking and mewling altogether while feel the wet coldness around your inner thigh. hyunjin follows right after, shooting his hot cement inside of you; the man can no longer keep his eyes open as he buries his face on the crook of your neck, his choked moans bring music right to your ear all a while his hot breaths bring goosebumps to your unrecovered body.

after riding out your highs, none of you move. hyunjin stays on top of you, his chest rises and falls according to your hard breathing. somehow, it’s calming you down, but it shouldn’t.

“hyunjin, you’re heavy.”

“oh, sorry,” he chuckles and even without looking, you can tell his eyes are smiling too. with his remaining strength, hyunjin pushes himself up and rests on your thighs to pull his dick out of you, momentarily admiring the mixture of his juice and yours dripping down your cunt before fixing his eyes on you to study your face—also something he has never done before. 

“i’m sorry,” he mutters a few moments later, eyes now on you.

tilting your head, you sit up, resting your upper body with your hands on the bed. “all of a sudden? i came? you always make me feel good.”

“that’s what i’m sorry about. i— i didn’t mean to— i mean, i—”

you reach out to him, gently patting his thigh. “hyunjin, calm down. this isn’t like you,” you whisper the last sentence, knowing that perhaps, now’s the time to talk things out, to stop whatever is going on, and go back to how things are used to be, maybe? your heart’s just been restless for too long and apparently, hyunjin seems to be in a similar situation too.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to keep using you like this. i genuinely meant what i said. i only wanted to take you home, but we ended up here and—”

“isn’t that what fwb do?” you pull your hand off his thigh, and a frown painted across his face as if he’s questioning your question. “that’s what we agreed on. we have our fwb rules, remember?”

“one, be very casual. two, no strings attached. three, no fucks given outside of the, well, literal fucking,” says hyunjin, proving he has memorized every words to the back of his mind.

nodding, you carefully bring back your hand to his thigh, repeating the same movement you did before. “exactly. so you don’t have to be sorry. don’t worry, i’m not feeling used at all.” you end it with a smile.

hyunjin mirrors you, he smiles too; his eyes fall to where your hand is. “but what if i’m breaking them? the rules,” asks the boy whose cold hand is now on top of your warm one. “what if i like you?” his eyes find their way back to you, and that’s when you know. the difference between your temperatures; the difference between your smile and his—the sadness that lies within.

that’s when you understand. everything finally makes sense; every one of hyunjin’s unusual acts. the constant texts and calls, the undressing, the pet names, the facial expression, the hand holding.

what happened to the rules? feelings. that’s what happened. to hyunjin, it’s his feelings over the rules.

but you, what about you? the butterflies, the irregular increasing heartbeats, the flushing cheeks, the overthinking, the disappointment at some point.

“y/n,” hyunjin calls out and you don’t get to get back to him because he’s already an inch away from you, momentarily eyeing your lips before he closes the distance. once again, his blonde hair falls down, brushing against his cheek before meeting yours and it tickles you, but not in the same way as how his kiss tickles your heart; giddy.

what happened to the rules? unwanted feelings. that’s what happened. to you, it’s the unwanted feelings against the rules. and for now, the unwanted feelings are too strong for you to push him away, so you pull him close instead. for now.

—

gen’s masterlist

repeating this!! special note: HUGE THANK YOU for my awesome bestie for the banner 🥺💞💞 ily, bish!! thank you for being my beta reader too 😽😽😽

[fantastic-bby]

SKZ as animal hybrid boyfriends

Pairing: Reader x Members

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Fluff | Headcanon | Animal Hybrid/Shifter AU | Boyfriend AU

Warnings: Very brief mention of spiders

Masterlist

Chan

A husky hybrid

Has the CUTEST pair of gray and white ears that stick out of the top of his head

Also has the most gorgeous pair of pale blue eyes that glow in the dark

He has a fluffy white tail that wags like crazy whenever he’s excited because he doesn’t know how to stop it from showing

He’s also the sweetest boyfriend in. The. WORLD!

Always asks how you’re doing

Makes sure your not missing any meals and that you’re always hydrated

Every morning, he wakes you up with cute good morning texts and he always tries to send you good night texts sometimes forgets because he gets so caught up in work

He makes up for it tho

Sends flowers to your place whenever he forgets uwu

Chan’s the perfect boyfriend

The only problem is that you’re allergic to dogs

He didn’t realise why you always seemed to sneezy and stuffy whenever you would come over to his place

Until you told him

And his reaction makes you feel like you just told him the most horrific thing in the world

To him it is!!!!

Because he’s the reason that you’ve been having allergic reactions around him!!

He starts vacuuming his place more often to keep any fur away and makes sure to keep the area super clean so that you’re clear from anything that could cause a reaction

He also starts lint rolling and vacuuming his clothes before giving them to you so that you don’t take any of his fur home unless you ask him to leave his fur

Chan gets confused whenever you tell him that you don’t want him to vacuum or wash his hoodies before giving them to you

But you like them because every time you see the strands of gray and white fur sticking out of his hoodie, it reminds you of him

So instead,

Chan starts buying a crap ton of allergy meds

Puts them in every corner of his house

In the bathroom

The kitchen

The living room

The bedroom

Literally everywhere just in case you get a super bad reaction

That way he’s always prepared for anything

Minho

A maine coon hybrid

The most luscious fur ever known to man

His cat ears are so fluffy and always well groomed

He has this beautiful fluffy orange tail that he’s gotten pretty good at hiding his feelings with

Usually a hybrid’s animal features would probably give away their emotions, but Minho learned to control his ears and tails really well

It’s just that his ears are really sensitive and they flick around every few seconds whenever he’s in a crowded place

He has a pair of yellow eyes that are constantly in the shape of slits simply because he wants to intimidate everyone around him

Also always has his claws out because they intimidate strangers

Wouldn’t tell anyone, but Minho lets his pupils dilate when he’s alone with you (´∀｀)♡

He also likes to tease you a lot but you know he’s just joking because if he was serious, his tail wouldn’t be so related

You try not to tell him because then he’ll start working harder to hide his tail swishes

Is the most precious yet teasing boyfriend out there

He’ll make a joke about you eating a lot of ice cream whenever you’re sad, but he’ll always have your favourite ice cream in the freezer

If you complain about some kind of muscle pain, Min would call you weak but then also come home with muscle relief patches that he’ll stick to you himself

Minho likes to shift into cat form if you’re stressed because then it means that he wouldn’t really disturb you a lot

His footsteps are way quieter when he’s in cat form as compared to human form

So if you’re stressed or tired and you ask him to give you time

Minho would shift and hide in one of the cat towers he bought for himself until he hears you coming out of the bedroom

The moment he hears the sound of the bedroom door opening, he’ll lift his head and peek out from the top

If you sit on the floor right in front of the tower, Minho will scurry off of the tower to sit in your lap to

But if you don’t even look at the tower and you instead go to the kitchen, he’ll wait a bit longer to give you more time

Changbin

Yk I wanna say he’d be some cursed Dwaekki hybrid the skzoo dwaekki haunts me in my sleep

But I genuinely feel like he’d be something really threatening like a wild animal

So if Chan’s a husky and Minho’s a maine coon

I’m gonna throw Changbin in as a grizzly bear because he’s a tank of a man and I love him for that

His ears are dark brown and rounded, poking out from the top of his head

His eyes are super dark brown and sometimes you can’t even tell if you’re able to see the white in his eyes bcs his pupils are just that big

His hands have these huge black claws that could claw someone apart if he wanted to

Also has a cute brown tail that he often hides underneath his clothes because it’s small enough for him to sit on

He gives THE BEST CUDDLESSSS!!!!!

Sometimes shifts into bear form just to cuddle you because it’s cold and relying on the heater might make it too warm

So Binnie likes to use his own fur to warm you up if he notices you shivering

Also would not hesitate to bear his teeth at anyone who tries to hurt you

Changbin doesn’t really tell anyone this

But one of his proudest bear traits is his ability to vocalise like a bear

Which means that whenever he feels the need to protect you or whoever’s around him

He will growl like a bear

And it’s terrifying

You didn’t even know that Changbin could roar until one night when a stranger wouldn't take your ‘no’ as an answer and your boyfriend almost lost his mind

He pulled you behind him and grabbed the collar of their shirt and just roared at them

The stranger being a hybrid of a smaller bear species immediately scrambled off

But Changbin also immediately switches back into sweet, cuddly boyfriend the moment he turns back to you <3

Hyunjin

A sphynx hybrid

Very dramatic

Very loud

He has pink cat ears sticking out of the top of his head with a little black splotch on his left ear

He also has this naked pink tail that sticks out from underneath his shirt

Every minor inconvenience and Hyunjin’s meowing and whining to you about it and you think it’s funny every time he does

Like the time he misplaced his sock and was crying all over your shared home looking for it until he found it underneath the bed

His claws are retractable, so he usually hides them because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone on accident unlike Minho

He’s VERY cuddly both in human form and cat form

Hyunjin likes to do the ‘kneading the dough’ thing whenever you’re cuddling

And ends up leaving holes in your clothes because his claws would accidentally grab onto the fabric

Would also feel really bad afterwards because now he’s ruined your shirt

You reassure him that it’s fine

But Hyunjin’s dramatic also kinda wants an excuse to go shopping with you

So he cries about it and it leads to him dragging you to the mall so that he can buy you a new one

Ends up getting distracted at a cat cafe because he’s made conversation with one of the cats there

And he’s basically talking to them like he’s a middle aged wine mom talking about their weird husbands

You have to remind him what the goal is

But he’s so immersed in the conversation with the orange tabby that you can only watch in amusement

Hyunjin’s talking to it in English while the cat nods with it’s tail swishing every time he asks it a question, mewling every once in a while as a response

You watch with a smile on your face, chin resting against the palm of your hand as you listen

You can only gather that Hyunjin’s telling the cat about why you’re at the mall

And the cat turns to you with a bored expression on its face before meowing

“She says good luck on finding a new shirt”

You nod and reach out to pet the cat’s head as thanks

You and Hyunjin leave after a while

And soon, the trip to get one shirt turns into a shared shopping spree

Jisung

Kinda obvious but he’s a squirrel hybrid

He has a pair of rounded, light brown ears on the top of his head

A bushy light brown tail that bumps into everything whenever he’s in cramped spaces

And the CUTEST pair of brown eyes EVERRRRR

His squirrel trait is where he gets the habit of stuffing food into his cheeks whenever he eats

Ji’s really good at climbing

So he has this long ass piece of wood that he keeps in the living room of his home so that he can still climb something in squirrel form if he can’t go outside

He also has tiny black claws that he uses mainly for practicality when he's in human form

So stuff like cutting into plastic, through strings and to open mail

He just slides his finger across the top of the envelope and boom

Jisung’s quite clumsy

It doesn’t help that he has this huge, bushy tail behind him

He bumps you with it a lot and he’s always so apologetic over it

But it’s fine because it’s his tail and it’s soft and cute and it’s part of Jisung UwU

There were a couple of times where you would wake up and his tail would be tickling your sides

So you’d wake up giggling

And it would wake him up too

He’d turn around and immediately wrap his arms around your waist to cuddle into you

You love playing with his ears

Jisung’s really responsive whenever you pet his squirrel features

So if you touch his tail in public

He’s jolting forward like AHHH

And you like to gently rub his ears whenever you’re cuddling

Jisung usually ends up cuddling into you more because he really likes it whenever you play with his ears

He has a habit of making those squirrel squeaks whenever he’s uncomfortable

So in public, if he feels like he’s overwhelmed or wants to leave

He’ll cling onto your arm and start squeaking softly so that only you’re able to hear

And it’s an easy way for you to know that he wants to leave without him actually telling you

Felix

Horned owl hybrid

He has two sets of white and brown feathers that poke out from the top of his head and curls to the back

He does, however, have talons at his fingertips that he doesn’t really like because it gets caught on a lot of things

Has feathers running down his arms, but can’t actually fly in human form

His eyes are this beautiful amber colour

He also has a lot of hanging stuff in his house that he likes to fly back and forth to whenever he shifts into owl form

Absolutely loves doing the head spinning trick because you freaked out the first time you saw him do it as a human

Felix also has really light footsteps

So sometimes you don’t even hear him coming into a room and suddenly he’s beside you

Which scares you sometimes

Overall, Felix is just unintentionally scary.

Buuuut

Because he has really good eyesight at night

And because he’s nocturnal

He sleeps in the day

Which means that all of his work is done at night while you’re asleep

His hearing is intense which means that he could hear the smallest pin dropping in the kitchen from the bedroom

So when he hears something strange coming from the kitchen

He’s immediately crawling out of bed and peeking out of the bedroom door

That’s when he sees a spider crawling out from behind the fridge

A huge spider

Now, Felix does NOT like spiders

But he knows that if you wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink, then you’re going to be freaked out by too

But he should be able to toss it out the window in owl form

So Felix pops open one of the windows and shifts

His silent flying and sharp night vision make it a quick mission that’s executed without much hassle

He manages to grab the spider with his talons and just tosses it straight out of the window

By the time Felix has returned to the bedroom

You’ve woken up because you realised he wasn’t beside you anymore

So he climbs back into bed and lets you hold onto him while you fall back asleep

Seungmin

Labrador hybrid

Has a pair of golden ears flopping over the top of his head

Also has a golden tail that he usually hides because if he gets over excited then it’ll wag all over the place and might bump into things

Is a relatively quiet person and is also a quiet dog

He doesn’t say or bark that much

But you’ve come to learn how to read his body language

Because his posture both in human form and dog form speak his thoughts

Like whenever he’s standing tall then you’ll figure that Minnie’s probably uncomfortable or feels threatened

As quiet as he is

He’s extremely attentive to your needs as well

Seungmin’s able to catch your body language way quicker than you are at reading his

Which means that the moment you look uncomfortable, he’s immediately moving to stand beside you with an arm wrapped around you

Think of it as that TikTok trend that’s like ‘using my scary dog privilege’

In this case

Seungmin’s more than happy to be the scary dog that lets you walk around alone

He’d bark and bite at anything or anyone who would try to hurt you

Even in human form, he’d growl as a warning to other animal hybrids that are around you

Whenever you’re out in public, Seungmin tries to stay by your side just in case anything happens

But when he has to part from you to talk to another group of your friends

He keeps you in his line of sight

He’d always angle himself in conversations so that the person he’s talking to has their back facing you so that he’s able to see you

And when a cat hybrid suddenly approaches you

Seungmin’s more on the attentive side but he hasn’t gone into protective mode because you don’t look uncomfortable

But then your frame starts to shrink

He immediately changes his posture

Which scares the people around him because suddenly, Seungmin looks so scary

He waits a moment longer and the moment you start looking around the room for him, he’s shoved his drink into the hands of Hyunjin so that he can make his way over to you

He slings his arm over your shoulder and glares at the cat hybrid who’s now extremely intimidated by the presence of the labrador hybrid

Seungmin leans close to the cat and growls at them until they run off

He stays with you for the rest of the night and the way he stays in protective mode makes you feel safe

Until you get home and Seungmin’s back to this ball of cuddle fluff that you absolutely love (｡♥‿♥｡)

Jeongin

Fennec fox hybrid

Has a big pair of white fluffy ears that poke out of his head

Has a fluffy white tail that blends into a more golden colour that’s long enough to poke out from underneath his shirt

He has super insane hearing

Even if he has headphones in, he can hear the outside world

Bodes well for him because whenever you walk into his apartment, he’ll walk out immediately to greet you

He never actually feels hot or warm because his body heat radiates off of his ears

Is always cold in human form

In fox form, his fur insulates his body instead so he doesn’t feel much of a difference

Has a habit of not drinking for hours because he can get stuck in his fox form

Also has a habit of chewing on your desk plants if he deems them edible

Unfortunately for you, that means you’ll come home to your beautiful plant babies half eaten and munched away because your fox boyfriend wanted a snack

To solve this problem, you filled the fridge with berries and vegetables for whenever he feels like snacking

But sometimes he goes overboard and he pretty much eats everything he can find when he forgets to eat for a while

He’s a fox hybrid that doesn’t know how to shift on command

Usually he has this big urge to shift but he’ll be stuck in one form for a while before being able to switch

He doesn’t know any other fox hybrids

So Jeongin has to learn to control his animalistic instincts with the help of you!

His human partner

Lucky for the both of you

You have a friend who’s a red fox hybrid

She’s not a fennec fox

But she still shares similar instincts to Jeongin because they’re both fox hybrids

So now Jeongin comes to you with the biggest smile on his face whenever he’s accomplished something, gushing about how Fox Noona taught him how to shift on command

He’ll show you

And you watch as he shifts into this tiny little fennec fox with a big smile on his snout (Ｔ▽Ｔ)