#now only fizzys left :3

[staampyslov3lyw0rld]

🍎 Polly Reindeer 🔧

Polly the pink-nosed reindeer, had a redstone-y nose, and if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows.. FUN FACTS!!!

She is the youngest of all the helpers at 24! Fizzy is 28 and William is 31!!

makes a MEAN apple crumble, and a MEAN apple strudel, and a MEAN apple tart, and a M

Is the only reindeer in her family to be born flightless. She was bullied for this, but she found a lot of acceptance after meeting stampy, another person who should but didn't have the ability to fly!

Yes, she wears the bells everywhere. And yes, she is incredibly loud wherever she goes!!

She once tried to make an annual "redstone contraption building contest" but quickly ended it after the first event due to Veeva Dash joining in, and blowing up everything with a TNT duper

[giuliettagaltieri]

Not Her Man

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow

Warning: Girlrotting

Word Count: 3193

Part 1 • Part 3

You were always scared to do drugs.  

You saw Rafe at his highs, you were with him, keeping him from doing anything stupid like when he was so sure he could backflip from Tanneyhill’s rooftop and land on the grass perfectly. 

But you also wondered how difficult it was for him to get clean.  To suffer from withdrawals.  And as you lie on your fur carpet, staring at the glimmering crystals of your chandelier, with your closet half emptied and scattered all around your room, along with rolling wine bottles on the polished hardwood floor of your bedroom, you think you might have understood just a little.

Blocking him was the hardest thing you have ever done in your life, especially when it was your routine to giggle over whatever interaction you had through text that day.  The itch to open his account for any update made you want to bind your hands together.

Your parents are out of the country, busy overseeing their business, forgetting to oversee their daughter.  Your maids were there for you, at least they try to be.  They bring you food on schedule, even sliding in a few scoops of ice cream every now and then in your room when your sobs start to echo around the halls.

Rafe tried to contact you multiple times.  First, through your phone, but you blocked him.  Next, he tried to throw pebbles at your window, but your seventy-six year old gardener fired a shotgun at him, thinking that he was a burglar.  Next, he tried a different approach, he was sending you gigantic bouquets of your favorite flowers, making the hallway leading to your room look like a wedding set up, the flowers perfumed the entire house too, drawing a concerning amount of bees.  One epipen to your chef’s thigh later, Rafe stops sending them.

He never really does anything right.  All he does is mess up, create more problems for himself.  You almost wanted to give in, but you remind yourself of the things he said.  Anger and hurt quickly replaces pity.

A familiar chime of your phone had you groaning.  Your friends are probably going to have another attempt of making you step out of your room, like inviting you to have your nails done or shop, just to get your mind off of Rafe.

You just let the ringtone end and you go back to staring at the chandelier, wondering if you’ll be quick enough to get out of the way if it somehow falls.  Before you can plan a strategic roll, your phone rings again.

Blindly reaching underneath the scattered pillows, you finally locate the buzzing device.  You answer without looking at the caller ID. 

“Y/N speaking.”  You mumble lazily.

“Hey, girlie.”  There goes the high-pitched voice of your friend.  “Sooo, the girls and I-hush!”  You hear a bunch of girls giggling behind the line and your brows crease together in annoyance.  “We’re going on a party tonight and we’re thinking that maybe you’d liketocomewithus?”

You play with the lace of your dress, eyes just following the patterns when you hear your name being called again over the phone.

“I’m not in the mood for parties.” 

“You are never in the mood for anything anymore.”  She whines behind the line.  Her tone prompts you to sit up to pick up the stale wine you left out in the open for too long.  Taking a sip and ignoring the thin coat of dust it caught after you ransacked your closet for something that made you look confident, only for you to end up squeezing in the dress that Rafe got you as a present for your 13th birthday.  He didn’t pick it out for you, of course, but it still made you all fizzy and bubbly and excited inside.

You put down the wine to scratch at the waistband that is digging on the skin of your under bust, the fabric being stretched beyond its capacity.

“I know.”  You tried to sound apologetic.  “I just can’t, okay?”

She sighs, making you let out a grateful sigh.  There’s still some ceiling viewing you had to get back to.

“I’m picking you up at seven.”  She speaks with finality and before you can answer, she continues.  “Please don’t let that awful man get the satisfaction of knowing that he has this much effect on you.”  You can hear her begging behind the phone.  She and the other girls are just looking out for you.

With an unwilling heart, you decide to get on your feet, your socked foot nearly slipping the moment it touches the wooden floor.  Cursing, you finally crouch on the piled up clothes you threw earlier. 

“Fine, I’ll come.”  You roll your eyes.  “Dresscode?”

You hear an airy chuckle and you can imagine her pinching your cheeks if you were within her reach.  “Party’s open to all, Kooks or Pogues.  In the community beach house.  You dress however you like.  I’ll match your vibe, if you’d like.”

This makes a smile creep on your lips.  She’s definitely on the top 10 list of the most annoying people you know but you thank God everyday for a friend like her.  “You know I love you, right?”

She snorts before bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “Duh.  I love you too.”

“See you later.”  You grin.  “Tell the girls I’m coming too.”

“Sure, see you!” 

You hang up and get started on searching for the right outfit.  Well, there’s the classic white flowy dresses, but everybody wears them.  You could wear a short and a cute top, show some belly?  Blech, you’re not exactly in one of your maneater moods.  But perhaps if you covered it with that oversized white pinstriped polo, it could work?  Yeah, something casual yet put together.  It’s not like you’re dressing to impress anybody, or somebody in particular, you’d prioritize comfort over fashion tonight.

A knock on your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts.  With a shrug, you throw your chosen clothes on your bed.

“Coming.”  You call while trudging over to open the door.  There stood your maid, she was looking anxious, wringing her wrinkly hands.  “What is it?”

She glances at your odd choice of clothing before she looks away so as to not make you uncomfortable.  “Well, uhm, Sir Cameron is here again, miss.  He’s waiting for you downstairs, in the drawing room.”

You press your lips in a firm line.  “Tell him I’m not here.”

Your maid smiles apologetically.  “He…he saw you in your bedroom window before he came in, miss.”

Huffing, you tap your feet impatiently.  “Just tell him I’m busy.”

“He said you’ll say that.”  She mutters, amusement in her tone.  “And he asked us to tell you that he can wait.”

You close your eyes to keep them from rolling.  “Whatever, he can stay as long as he likes, but I’m not coming down to meet him.”  You push the door a little wider and your maid’s eyes widen at the state of your room.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but can you help me clean up?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent tidying up your room. 

It was dark out, a couple of minutes past seven when your phone buzzed.  Knowing that it’s your girlfriends, you pick your bag, filled with the usual party necessities and head downstairs.  It’s a habit, assigning yourself as the responsible friend who stays sober to look after the others.

You are slipping in the pearl bracelet your grandmother got for you last Christmas when you hear your name being called and in instinct, you turn around.

“Oh, right.”  You say with a tone that is drier than the Sahara desert.  “You’re here.”

Rafe’s standing just outside your drawing room, his hands falling to his side.

“Yeah.”  He spoke awkwardly, his eyes glancing at your outfit, familiarity crossing them before he looked at your eyes again.  “I was waiting for you.”

You exhale softly and he just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

“I know.”  You say simply.  “Gotta go.”  You start walking again to your door.

“Wait, Y/N.” He easily catches up.  “You’re…you’re coming to the party, right?”  He asks hopefully.

“Yes.”  You respond without looking at him.

Rafe smiles but it quickly dissipates when he sees a different car waiting for you.  “Hold on, I can drive you there.”  He says quickly, his hand gripping yours just to get you to listen to him.  “I can drive you to the party.”  He says in an uncharacteristically sheepish way.

For a second, you look at him, really look at him.  His smile grows wide.  He missed having your eyes on him.  You’re his best friend, and he’s used to doing everything with you by his side.  He also liked how dependent you were on him too, always asking for his approval.  You have a bit of an overbearing attitude but he would be lying if he’ll say that he doesn’t miss you doting on him too.  Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s dependent on this odd friendship you both have.

“No, thank you.”  You say before pulling your hand away with a sharp look thrown his way.  He watches you walk away to greet your friends.  He’s still stuck there, staring, even after the car drives away.

He doesn’t understand it.

You’re the emotional one, why are you doing so well without him?  You never go to parties with other people, it was always him that you stick close to.  Clinging on him, pulling him to the dance floor when he’s about to do a line of coke, or accidentally knocking his cup when he’s had too much drinks.

Running a hand through his face, Rafe decides to hop on his car and follow you to the party.  You’ll be in the same space as him in the next few hours.  He’ll get another chance there.  He’s certain of it.

He didn’t get the chance.

With you by his side all the time, you memorized his set of activities at parties and you evaded him perfectly.  Rafe decided that it was best to stand by the punch table.  You’d get thirsty eventually, and he’ll be there waiting if you do.

On the other side of the house, farthest from Rafe, there you sit by the porch swing, admiring the push and pull of the waves.  The party was at its climax and everybody was cramped inside the house, dancing and drinking, or doing unholy activities.  You don’t know how you managed to slip away from your friends but you’re glad you did.  You needed the fresh air.

You’re just starting to get comfortable when a man stumbles out the door.  You watch him struggle to keep himself up.  He looked lost? Or just flat out drunk.  You watch in amusement as he scratches his blonde head, he must be having a whiplash from all the blinding neon lights inside and suddenly his vision switches to the bright light provided by the LEDs. 

His feet twist and he starts to fall to the side, your head tilting to follow his fall.  You wince when you hear the loud thud of his body hitting the floor, followed by his muffled but loud groaning.

“Motherfu-”  He sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he shakes his head like a dog.

“You alright, JJ?”  You chuckle.

He whips his head to you, cursing again when his vision spins.  “Y/N?”  He drawls out while rubbing his eyes.  “You saw everything?”

Still laughing, you get up to crouch next to him.  “I did.”  You smile when he groans out again.  “Are you okay?”

He props up a knee and rests an arm there, he looks buzzed, his eyes are heavily lidded as he stares off into the ocean.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He glances at you.  “Well, this is a strange sight.”

“What is?”  You mumble as you look away from him, deciding to play dumb.

He shrugs animatedly, hands gesturing to you and the entire space of the porch.  “Usually, wherever you are, your boyfriend is not that far behind.”  He points a thumb behind him.  “And if I wasn’t imagining it, I’m pretty sure I just saw him brooding over the drinks.”

You chuckle dryly as you bring your knees to your chest.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

JJ looks at you with an unimpressed face.  “That’s all you heard.”

Playfully punching his shoulder, you sigh.  “We fought.”

He frowns, back straightening immediately.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  It’s kind of sweet how your words seemed to have sobered him really quick.

“No!  No, he didn’t.”  You reply right away.  “Well, at least not physically.”

You watch him grimace.  “Outside physical fights, I have little to no idea how to respond.”

“That’s okay, JJ.  I don’t wanna talk about it, anyway.”

He gives you a boyish grin, as if to reassure you before scratching at his jaw, your eyes mindlessly follow his movements and you see a scratch.

“You’re hurt.”  You tell him, pointing at your own jaw.

“Huh?”  He touches his jaw and winces.  “Ow!  Must’ve scratched myself when I…uhm.”

“When you decided to attack the floor.”  You finish for him and he clears his throat.  “You’ll have to disinfect it.”

“Pfft, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s just a scratch.”

But you are already grabbing your bag by the swing and you return with a small kit.

“I forgot to bring wipes.”  You mumble before crouching down in front of him.  He swallows at your close proximity.  “Come on, JJ.  It’s just antibacterial cream.”

He hesitantly shows you his face and you gently apply the cream, tutting when he dramatically pulls away.

You grab his face and tilt it slightly and JJ squeezes his eyes.

“It fucking stings.”  He nearly whines, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be a baby!”  You huff and he stays still for a second, allowing you to smear the cream evenly and he rolls away from you as soon as you’re done.

JJ was muttering about God knows what while you’re busy putting your stuff away.  When you sit next to him again, he’s much calmer, a lazy smile back on his face again.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You throw him a playful glare.  “You’re welcome.”

He touches the scratch and you almost tell him off but he quickly pulls his hand away. 

“Why didn’t Cameron make you his girl?”

You blow out a big sigh.  “He doesn’t like me.”

“Bullshit.”  He laughs but he clears his throat when you look at him unamused.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”  You smile at him genuinely before averting your eyes.  “I wouldn’t blame him.  I mean, you saw how I can be.”  You chuckle this time but there’s no humor on JJ’s face, he’s looking at you rather sadly.  “I care too much and everybody suffocates around me.”

“I don’t.”  He says quickly.  “I was just being dramatic earlier.”  He rubs his nape.  “I’m not used to having people tend to me, I mostly just do it myself.”  He seeks your eyes and you finally look at him. 

You hear a creak behind you but before you can look, JJ cups your face to keep you from breaking your eye contact, making your breath hitch.

“I liked being taken care of like that.”  He whispers and your lips part slightly.

“JJ.”  You say breathlessly and he grins, his face leaning dangerously close to you.  “You’re drunk.”

He gently bites his bottom lip and you have to look away from his blatant flirting.  “I’m sober enough to kiss, I promise.”

This…this isn’t right.  

You gently push him away and his lips immediately form a pout.  “You’re such a kid, JJ.”

He clicks his tongue and angrily stoops as he glares at the ocean.  “You had no idea how long it took me to build the courage to do that.”

“Five minutes?”  You jokingly bump his shoulders, making his act break at the edges, a smile threatening to crack on his lips.  “Seriously, J, I can’t kiss drunk guys.  It’s unethical.”

He mimics you in a childish voice and buries his face on his palms harshly.  He turns to you again, with his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead and red blotches appearing on some areas of his face.  “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”  The way he glances at your lips had your throat drying up.  “I really wanted to kiss you.”  Aside from Rafe, you have little to no experience with the male attention and frankly, you don’t know what to do.

You place a hand on his shoulder and stiffly pat it twice.  “You’ll get over it.”

JJ looks at you exasperatedly.  “You’re taking this too lightly, this is my feelings we are talking about.”

You stifle a laughter.  “Oh, so you have feelings for me.”  You raise a brow at him and he nods his head enthusiastically.

“Every guy on this island has a thing for you.”  He says animatedly.  “If it wasn’t for your bodyguard, we would have made our move long ago.”

You are deeply flattered, you can’t resist the girlish smile from tugging on your lips, your cheeks slowly heating up.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He looks deeply offended and places a hand on his chest.

“You’re the ultimate dream girl, stupid!”  He dodges a punch from you.  “You’re like the total package.  You’re sweet, and smart, you’re also very pretty, you can be funny too when you let loose.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you and this pulls a laughter from you, a real, genuine laughter that had your shoulders shaking.

“When are you gonna get serious, J?”  Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you get up.  “Wait here, I’ll get us a drink.”

He gives you a two finger salute before lying smack down on the floor, with his arms spread out.  You shake your head, chuckling when you open the door.

And your hair stands on end.

There stood the very person you have been avoiding the entire night.

But for once, he isn’t wearing a scowl or a condescending cocky smile.

He was looking at you like a man defeated and broken.

“Rafe.”  You whisper as you reach for him but you stop yourself before your skin can touch.  He looks at your hand and then your eyes.  You don’t know if it’s the trick of light but you could have sworn his eyes are glassy.

“Hey, Y/N, everything alright?”  JJ calls.

Rafe glances at JJ and then back at you, he nods slowly as he takes a step back.  Your heart aches as you watch him take another step away from you but you will yourself not to follow.  He runs a hand on his mouth and he turns away from you.

You stare at his back as he leaves, torn between choosing your own pride or running after him.  For what seemed like hours, you stood there, frozen.  Still lost in the onslaught of emotions that surged through you.

Not Your Girl • His Girl

[twinsimming]

Energy Drinks by Twinsimming 🥤

This mod adds custom Energy Drinks to a new type of vending machine.

This is a script mod that can be placed in your Packages folder. It was built and tested on 1.69 but should work fine on 1.67.

Requirements

The Sims 3: Late Night

The Sims 3: Seasons

The Sims 3: Supernatural

The Sims 3: University Life

Overview

Soda-Lightful Vending Machine

Energy Drinks

Side Effects

Flavors

New Moodlets

Soda-Lightful Vending Machine

- Price: §1250 - Category: Large Appliances - Includes all 11 original swatches + 1 recolorable option (3 channels) - Poly Count: 2346 - Originally created for The Sims 4 by RAVASHEEN, converted to The Sims 3 by me

Like the vending machines that came with University Life, sims can Buy Energy Drink, Shake Machine, or Slam Machine.

Energy Drinks

Teen and older sims can purchase energy drinks from the Soda-Lightful Vending Machine for §5 each.

Energy drinks boost the Energy need, give sims the custom Energy Rush moodlet, and remove any moodlets related to low Energy (Tired, Sleepy, Exhausted, Buzz Crashed, etc.), similar to drinking coffee, but the effect lasts twice as long (6 hours instead of 3 hours).

Drinking multiple energy drinks in a row will boost how long the Energy Rush moodlet lasts, as well as increase the moodlet's value, up to 18 hours and +30 mood.

Once the Energy Rush moodlet expires, sims get the custom negative Energy Crash moodlet.

Side Effects

If your sim goes more than 24 hours without another energy drink, they'll start to suffer from caffeine withdrawal and gain the custom negative Craving Caffeine moodlet for the next 2 days. Drinking coffee, tea, barista bar beverages, or another energy drink will remove this moodlet.

Drinking more than 2 energy drinks at a time also carries the risk of a sim being electrocuted and dying.

Teens and Elders both have a 5% chance of being electrocuted, while YA have a 1% chance and Adults have a 3% chance.

Flavors

There are 8 different energy drinks to choose from. 6 provide flavor-related moodlets from the snow cone machine from Seasons and the bubble blower from Late Night. These moodlets last for 4 hours.

From left to right in the second preview photo:

Charged Cherry (Cheery Cherry)

Pineapple Power-Up (On a Beach)

Lightning Lemon (Laidback Lemon)

e-Lectric Lime (Lucky Lime)

Blue Raspberry Blitz (Raspberry Romance)

Gigawatt Grape (Gleeful Grape)

The Unidentified Fizzy Ooze energy drink replenishes Alien brain power, but makes non-Aliens nauseous.

The last energy drink is called Mystery Flavor and it works like the jelly bean bush from Supernatural; including carrying the risk of death, so proceed with caution.

New Moodlets

Energy Rush: Given when sims drink an energy drink, lasts 6 hours, +10, +20, or +30 mood

Energy Crash: Given when the Energy Rush moodlet expires, lasts 7 hours, -15 mood

Craving Caffeine: Given when sims go more than 24 hours without another caffeinated drink, lasts 2 days, -30 mood

Tuning

All of the tunable values can be found on the mod download page under the header “Tuning”.

Script Namespace

If you want to turn a different vending machine into an energy drink vending machine, open your desired object in s3pe and replace the current script name with the following:

Sims3.Gameplay.Objects.Twinsimming.EnergyDrinksMod.VendingMachine

Conflicts & Known Issues

This is a new scripted object, so there shouldn’t be any conflicts.

All of the drink cans are different colors when placed in the world and during the drinking animation, but they all have a red can icon when placed in a sim's inventory. I'm not sure how to fix this right now, but that should be the only issue of note.

Credits

EA/Maxis for The Sims 3 and The Sims 4, mesh by RAVASHEEN, Visual Studio 2019, ILSpy, s3pe, Notepad++, Sims4Studio, TSRW, Blender, Milkshape, Gimp, and Script Mod Template Creator.

Thank You

Thank you to RAVASHEEN and everyone in the Sims 3 Creators' Cave Discord!

If you like my work, please consider tipping me on Ko-fi 💙

Download @ ModTheSims

[downins]

Hello I’m so glad to see that you write for xo kitty! Can I request a Minho x reader where Dae, Minho and reader are childhood friends. Minho had been helping Kitty try to reunite with her family so he’s been unintentionally not spending time with y/n and Dae. Until one day he catches just Dae and y/n hanging out. He sees them laughing and having a good time, yet Minho feels a bit of jealousy boiling in his stomach at the sight of you leaning on Dae as you laugh. Making him realize he doesn’t like the thought of you with other guys.

Thank you so much!! I hope that you have an great day/night <3

༊*·˚𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖾𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅༊*·˚ (𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗁𝗈, 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍)

𝖺/𝗇: 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗈!! 𝗂'𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗂𝗍 :𝖣

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀(𝗌): 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗁𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

listen to: come back to me, rm

for as long as you could remember, minho and dae were always the closest ones to you ever since you three were kids. there were no secrets between all of you and there wasn't a time where you wouldn't be there for each other. even your parents constantly had theirs over for every meal. you've never played favourites with either of them which never became an obstacle in your friendship with them.

as you three grow up, you decided to enroll in the same school as them which your parents whole-heartedly agreed to since they assumed minho and dae were sort of like your brothers and a prestigious school like kiss would look good on your college applications. there, you met people from around the world and learned about their culture, it was really interesting and fun to you. as time passes by, there were more people added into your little friendgroup. such as yuri, juliana, kitty, jin and Q.

you got close with kitty since you shared a room with her and would always listen to her discoveries about her familiy stuff. although, you couldn't keep up with her adventures because you're the school's athlete and also the top student so it was difficult for you to accompany her on that journey. but she would always update you when you're sharing a meal with her and before going to bed. you noticed that she started mentioning minho more, about how he was there to constantly help her find her family. there was a point where you assumed that she had feelings for him too but you brushed it off because causing a whole drama isn't quite necessary for kitty.

since minho was spending more of his time with kitty, you decided to maintain your friendship with dae by still spending time with him and inviting him over to your dorm to just chill, watch some movies along with playing a couple of video games. minho never took note of this as he was mostly busy, you'd invite him and dae but only dae would show up, with fizzy drinks and pizza in his hands.

after a couple of months, minho finally came to realisation that you kind of grew apart with him which led him to decide that he should probably have a talk with you about it. that is, until he saw you and dae, your head on his shoulder while giggling and him making jokes that earned even more laughter from you. there was a lump in his throat at this sight, was it the sense of guilt that he felt because he spent less time with you? or was it because he wanted to be his shoulder that you're laying on? his jokes that you're laughing at? he shut out the idea of having an actual talk with you and left the park then went to his dorm.

now it's 1am in the morning, he's wide awake with the thought of you lingering his brain, did you forget all about him already? does he not matter to you as much anymore? the room was dead silent, only the sounds of soft cold air blowing from the air condition but his head was filled with loud and excruciating thoughts. that was when he realised that, he'd never cared that much for anybody, much less a girl. maybe, he'd been denying it for years but now he's come to terms that he has developed strong feelings for you, so strong that the sight of you with another guy sinks his heart to all the way down to his stomach.

he managed to get some sleep before classes, though he did look quite exhausted and that concerned you. "minho, are you okay?" you tapped on his shoulder gently, making him turn to you. "oh, i'm okay. just.. didn't get enough sleep last night" his response was blunt, maybe a little too blunt which made you question him even further. "are you really sure though?" he shot you a frustrated look, stood up from his seat and left the cafeteria. it alerted the others but you convinced them to go on with their day and that you'd handle this on your own.

you saw him sitting on a bench located near the basketball court, his elbows pressed against his knees with his head buried in his hands. you decided to take a seat beside him, not wanting to be too close to avoid making him uncomfortable. "minho, will you please just talk to me?" your voiced echoed through his head. "what do you want to talk about y/n?" his voice had a sense of anger in it but you still wanted to comfort him. "look, i know that we haven't been close these past few months and i'm really sorry for that, but you were always close with kitty and i assumed you didn't want to spend time with me and dae anymore" you tried to explain yourself. "so you'd just spend all your time with dae and forget about me? just because i'm helping kitty?" his response shocked you a little, he'd never spoken to you in that way.

"look, y/n. it's not just that, this is unusual for me but i think i've fallen in love with you. and i saw you that day, with dae. the way you were laughing with him, it just made me hope that it was me in his place. i know you probably have feelings for him already but i just thought it'd be better if you knew" his confession stunned you into silence and minho saw your reaction. he quickly accepted it and decided to leave before you caught onto his arm.

"minho please listen, i like you too but i just assumed you were with kitty which is why i wanted to be respectful and keep a distance between us" you say as you pulled him into a hug, his arms slowly cradled you. "you.. like me?" his voice finally became soft again, like how he'd always talk to you.

"of course i do, silly" you looked up at him, minho has always found your height difference was always cute to him. he leaned in closer and kissed your lips. "and i thought i was going to the dance alone" he said as he pulled away from you. "really? you're minho, everybody wants you" you joked, making him let out a soft chuckle

[charmsponies]

🩷💚 Custom Fizzy Takara Doll 💚🩷

Created using the 3d model made by Otteroflore!

Wip description and pics below the cut ^^

So I am a COMPLETE AND TOTAL NOOB when it comes to technology. and I made a lot of mistakes trying to print this Fizzy due to my own incompetence and also everyone online assuming you already kinda know something about 3d printing if you own a printer. We recieved a 3d printer as a gift and I knew Nothing about it so I reallly struggled trying to figure it out. Also my computer is ancient and had to download a like 5 year old out of date version of a 3d printing program (cura) to even get it to work. took an entire week and several failed tries T-T

FINALLY we got an attempt that was salvageable! And had to rip out all of the support beams from it. But even then there were some major mistakes:

It did not print hollow. Nobody online explained that if you want it to be hollow it wasn’t enough that the model itself had hollow parts, you have to turn off a hole setting in cura and mess with the infill or something

For some reason the bodies were Very Fucked Up? The middle and sides printed Weirdly to where, once the supports were all removed, They had no sides/shoulders. Wuh oh.

The way I combatted this was by taking extra filament plastic and a soldering iron gun to weald it on and do literal plastic surgery.

(A before and after) it looks like complete ass and is a little janky but. please be kind to her it was a major operation 😭😭😭

Then sanded things down a bit more. I know people say to sand it down until you can’t see the lines anymore but im an impatient motherfucker and only had a little bit of sandpaper so :P

Then it was painting time! Used my own fizzy to color match, painted her green with a white nose and a milkshake cutiemark. I also glued stick on gems into her eye sockets

Then the hairing! Used a sewing needle heated up with a lighter to easily poke holes into her skull! The lovely user minticat on Mlptp provided great reference images of what a takara’s hair length and hair holes look like, so I did my best to mimic that

Her hair is the closest color matches for fizzy that Shimmerlocks had: Cotton Candy pink, Angel white, Heart Throb 2.0 pink and Gusty green. Now the head isnt actually all that hollow (I hollowed it out best I could with my soldering iron but still not the best) so I couldn’t use the usual hairing method where you punch the hair in and then glue it from inside. I realized I needed to attach glue to the hair itself and then get it into the holes.

At first I was too much of a scardey cat to use my actual hairing needle in fear it would break on the plastic, so I tried a very infuriating method of putting glue on hair strands and painstakingly trying to push them into the holes with a pin. This was awful. I quickly gave up, braved up and grabbed my rehairing needle. Punched the hair in after applying glue to the hair, and it worked out surprisingly well!

All that was left was to 1) String the doll using elastic bands to tie the legs and arms into place but still make sure they were moveable. 2) GENTLY trim, wash and style the hair (using buggys special method of getting tiny curly curls. 3) Figure out the head

I originally wanted to make a neckplug for her out of clay as you see here but it didnt work too well. The plastic of the doll is much harder than the clay and it kept breaking after trying to put the head on. So I accepted I would have to glue the head on in place (It cant turn, unlike the arms and legs 😔) You can also see i used some clay to patch up a crack in the plastic that formed (which I had to paint over again)

FINAL STEP was making the dress!!! I forgot to take ANY pictures of that ùwú Not that pictures would be useful to you guys as I kinds fuckin winged it and made up a pattern as I went. I think its adorable, but in the future I would make it a little bigger (the back doesnt fit quite right). Maybe if theres interest I’ll fix up the pattern so its better and share another doll dress tutorial with the class? 😳 sound off in the comments below haha

[miasmaghoul]

Happy Mountain March, have some Murder Ghoul Mountain!

Contains: manipulation, murder (obvs) but nothing graphic, improper use of earth magick and mildly implied cannibalism <3

-*-*-*-*-*-

Every year, at the beginning of spring, Mountain receives a list of siblings from Sister Imperator. Brothers and Sisters who have broken the tenets of the church, been disobedient, or otherwise lost their right to serve and reside at the abbey. Never more than five a year, but it's always enough.

Every year, he arranges a nice lunch for them in a lovely clearing in the forest, an idyllic little spot that you can only find if you know where it is. The Siblings (two Brothers and a Sister this year) get their invitations and of course they're thrilled - what an honor, to be treated to something so exclusive!

What a shame that the excitement dulls their sense of wariness - if it didn't, maybe they'd notice the gentle wash of magick that hits at the edge of the forest. A trap set for the unsuspecting wanderers, one that douses them in a specific blend of pollens masterfully crafted for these occasions. Designed to dull the mind, to make them complacent and stupid, even for humans.

Prey.

They arrive together, finding a lovely picnic style spread laid out for them. Mountain stands nearby, masked but with a gentle smile on his face. He even bows to them, a sweeping gesture, and guides them to sit. They do, of course. They all know Mountain, the gentle giant responsible for refreshing the greenery planted around the abbey. The one they see working the orchards and puttering around in the greenhouse, always quiet and never threatening despite his size.

They take in the spread before them - individual salads topped with nuts and seeds, fresh fruits and cheeses, little chocolatr tarts topped with edible flowers and glasses of something fizzy at each place. None of them bother saying thank you before they dig in, too affected by the mind numbing pollen and their rumbling bellies, and they all miss the way Mountain's eyes flash.

He hovers at the edge of the gathering, watching like a hawk while they stuff their faces with little elegance. Chugging their sparkling wine, shoveling food down and barely chewing. He has all the patience in the world when it comes to this particular event, and not even their increasing lack of table manners could make him look away. It never lasts all that long anyway - all he needs them to finish is the salad.

The final Brother wolfs down the last of his portion, fork abandoned in favor of his filthy human hands, and while it makes him grimace Mountain ends up with eager butterflies in his stomach anyway. It's time for his favorite part.

He moves to stand before them, snaps his fingers, and like a pack of dumb dogs they look up at him. The Sister has a smear of berry juice on her cheek, one Brother has a mess of something he can't identify crushed into the front of his habit, and the other one is busy sucking his fingers clean. Mountain can't help his sneer - it doesn't matter now anyway, if they see his disdain. They don't have the brainpower left to notice it anyway. The butterflies in his belly pick up the pace.

He addresses them one by one, walking slow circles around the trio while he rumbles their respective misdeeds. As he does, he lays hands on them. Nothing major - casual passes of his hands on their shoulders, the backs of their necks. Subtle things that only add to the distant looks on their faces. They're far too lost to feel the sparks that sink into their skin with every brush of his callused fingers, and as each of their eyes begin to sparkle the most unnatural shade of green.

The Sister is the first to grab her stomach, to loose a pained hiss, and Mountain grins.

The others are quick to follow, and soon enough they're all curled up and writhing on the blanket. Kicking out and breaking plates and glassware, clutching at their clothes and gasping for breath. Mountain crouches as he watches them suffer, dragging his fingers through the soft grass of the forest floor with a serene smile on his face. Listening to the creak of new growth blooming inside them, a sound that only an earth ghoul could pick out, provided by the seeds they'd all so willingly shoved down their greedy gullets. Growth spurred by his power, by the spark of life that will, soon enough, steal theirs.

The Sister makes a bizarre croaking sound, and Mountain delights at the sight of the first green vine snaking its way out of her gaping mouth. Sprouting buds and leaves already, it isn't alone for long - a dozen similar ones join it in short order, forcing her jaw wide and her eyes wider. The Brothers follow suit, choking around the winding growth filling their throats, and as they stare at him with pleading eyes all Mountain can do is give them a wink.

The first blossom blooms at the corner of one Brother's mouth, a collection of brilliant blue petals in perfect health. The first of many, different for each Sibling, but soon enough all three of them will become little more than hosts. Vines curling around their limbs while the light fades from their eyes, flowers blooming as their struggle through their last breaths. A beautiful sight, Mountain thinks - three measly human lives traded for countless others.  He relishes their final, shuddering sighs - sounds that will live in the back of his mind until next year.

When they're gone, he can get to work at last.

Each of their overgrown bodies has a destination:

The Brother growing those lovely blue flowers, along with lush leaves and one particularly stunning white lily (which Mountain will pluck and set aside as a gift for Sister Imperator), will land in the greenhouse fertilizer pile. Destined to be broken down into a nutritious mulch that will enrich every potted plant Mountain can manage.

The Sister, sprouting wild grasses, thistles and buttercups, will be planted in the center of the peach orchard. Her body will feed the trees and the bees alike, enriching the soil and encouraging the fruit there to grow fat and sweet.

The final Brother, coated in thick ivy and tiny white blossoms, will be gifted to Ivy at the hidden cottage she shares with Terra and Pebble. He's not allowed to know what they do with the body, despite how many years he's been doing this, but Ivy is the only one entrusted with the upkeep of Primo's rose gardens so he doesn't have much room to argue. One day Mountain will convince her to let him in on those particular secrets, he's sure of it, but until then he's little more than a delivery ghoul.

He's left feeling very accomplished, once the heavy lifting is done. Knowing that his plants will remain healthy, their harvests bountiful, and that he'll earn a pat between the antlers from Sister Imperator for his efforts.

That's not all he gets for his troubles, of course.

To their credit, no one ever asks why the sacrifices are missing their hearts.

[inkluvs]

sunburnt

cowboy!steve harrington x reader

content warnings: super fast paced ; fake dating ; they r exes ; uhhh forced proximity i think ; most likely inaccurate southern slang ; (2.0k)

summary: steve and you broke up a few years ago. but you live in a small town, and when you bump into him this time round, you’re told to go for it, or him, perhaps

a/n: ok this is v short just a baby one shot that i’ve been hoarding in my drafts for way too long <3 thank u for reading xoxo

masterlist / taglist

Steve’s nose is dusted pink, the freckled skin sunburnt from one too many times in the heat without protection. His lips are twisted into a smile. The kind that feels rare. The kind that has the same effect on you as a shooting star or an eclipse. You have to stop and stare for just a moment, turning the smile on his face from one of joy to the teasing kind. 

The way you’re staring isn’t rude in any way, just more intense, full of the need to pull at the seams of his very being to figure out how he is who he is; To figure out how the same person, who’d been cooing at a puppy a moment ago, a furry tiny thing, can now be staring back at you with the same intensity, his mouth opening, and closing as he does so. 

The leather hat on his head is a faded brown, clearly well-loved over the years. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, taking with it any hope that he’ll say something — anything.

It’s laughable really, the way that even after all these years you still find yourself staring. That you stayed there. In that fancy restaurant with the fizzy drink you ordered on your left-hand side and the boy, you’d just been staring at in front of you. He was younger, his hair darker and his skin lacking the freckles he’d gain in the years to come.

You stayed there.

In the way Steve put his hand on yours when the words left his lips. The same lips that’d kissed you so many times you’d lost count. The same lips that’d mouthed at the slope of your cheek every time you smiled because he thought it was endearing. 

Your memory isn’t that great really, but somehow you’d managed to engrave every detail of that moment into your mind, down to how Steve’s voice had lifted at the end of each sentence. Like he was asking you a question rather than informing you of something. Like if you’d begged he would’ve listened. 

You thought about it — about pleading with him to stay and asking him what went wrong, convincing yourself for a while that closure was what you needed. But it didn’t seem to matter now. 

No amount of closure could truly satisfy you and time had taught you that. No amount of closure would prevent bumping into him at the grocery store or the way heat still blossomed in your chest when he looked at you. No amount, you’d decided, would fill the gap he’d left in his wake.

“You’re starin’,” the voice comes from beside you, a little boy whose face you only half recognize, “my Ma says it isn’t nice to stare.”

“Yeah?” he nods, “tell your Ma it’s only rude if they catch you.” The boy grins and turns around, no doubt running home to tell his mother what you had said. You imagine she’d laugh at that, shuddering and failing to hide a smile as she tells off the boy for believing such things. The boy would then nod in confusion. Perplexed as to the way his mother’s words and expression contradicted each other, and that would be the end of that. You assume so at least.

What you don’t expect, however, is the boy coming back a few minutes later, this time tapping the man you’d just been staring at on the shoulder. A part of you wants to call out, to stop the boy from saying something he doesn’t know the consequences of, but one small foreign part of you tells you that he knows exactly what he’s doing. The boy points at you and there’s that smile again splitting Steve’s cheeks, the kind that lights a fire underneath your skin, slowly melting you like wax from the inside out. Steve pushes his hand down quickly, checking to see if you’d noticed before turning back.

“Your Ma ever told you that pointing is rude?”

“She says it’s only rude if they catch you.” Laughter bubbles in your chest like water in a tea kettle and you try your best to suppress it, a huff of laughter making its way from your throat instead. 

“Think this one already has,” Steve gently lifts the boy's hand with his index finger until he was pointing to you again, “Look.”

“Talk to her then.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, though to anyone else it might have been. The concept seems foreign to Steve – you haven’t been in his life for years now so why would he bother changing it now?

“What?” 

“She was just starin’ at you, it only makes sense.” 

“Guess it does,” he lets go of the hand in his, his eyes flitting from yours, now looking back at him, to the encouraging ones of the boy in front of him.

“You’re stalling,” he observes, “why are you stalling?’

“I am not stalling,”

“Why are you here,” Steve tilts his head, as if to say, fair point, before turning back to you. A shiver ripples through his spine, distributing all of his nervous energy to the tips of his fingers and toes. 

One foot in front of the other, he decides. He stepped forward, his right foot now an inch closer to you, then his left, and before he knows it he was tapping on your shoulder.

“Long time,” 

“Wonder why that is,” he almost smiled at that. After all these years, you’re the same. The same tendency to speak before thinking that he had adored at some point, the same crinkle in your nose he’d grown fond of years ago. 

“Sorry,” 

“Don’t go ‘round saying things you don’t mean”

“I do—“

“You don’t.” There is a sort of weary resignation in your voice, the kind that showcases the years you spent wondering what you’d done wrong. He isn’t sorry, and he would make the same decision over and over if he was given the same options today.

His lips part ever so slightly, heart-shaped and pink, “you see the boy over there,” his words topple on top of one another as he rushes to change the topic, “little shit pushed me in this direction, something about it only making sense.”

“Figured,” you pause, considering your next words, “did the same to me.”

“D’you think he’ll notice if we go our separate ways?”

“I think he’d grab us by our ears and push us together like dolls.”

“Doubt he’d be able to reach our ears.” He says, his voice lifting with a crack of humor.

You’re laughing now, a lovely sound he doesn’t realize he missed until he heard it. “Our ankles then.” 

“So we're stuck?”

“Don’t act like this is the worst thing in the world,” you smile. “There were times when you’d pay to be near me.”

“Still would peach,” he murmurs. “S’just an observation.”

“An observation hm?” Steve nods. “What else is an observation?”

He ponders the question for a moment. “You haven’t changed at all, same attitude and tongue like a whip.” That he’d always adored, he wanted to add, but he didn’t, no point in telling you things he’d told you multiple times before. No point in reminding you of things he’d rather not think about. 

“Yeah?” Steve hums in agreement, “And what gives you that impression?”

“The boy,” his voice is low, both rough and smooth in a way that made your skin burn, “when he pointed to you, I asked him if he’d ever been told by his Ma pointing is rude, y’know what he said?” 

You do. “No.”

“He said ‘s only rude if they catch you,” his breath is warm against your neck and suddenly you realize he’s gotten closer to you, “and something tells me his Ma isn’t the one who taught him that.”

“Why would you think that?” 

The corners of his mouth twitch and you mirror him, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. He swallows in a desperate attempt to stifle his laughter, failing a moment later. He’s right. You haven’t changed and you haven’t yet decided if you like that or not. 

He looks at his wrist, as if to check his watch, only to find the skin bare, a slight tan line apparent from hours spent in the sun. His face falls.

“Lost your watch?” you inquire. Steve adores that watch more than anything, though you can never figure out why. You just assume it was a gift of some sort.

“Stolen,” he mutters.

Your lips form an ‘o’ shape for a moment before breaking eye contact, “‘s about to be dark anyways,”

“I’ll see ya later then? Tomorrow?” You can hear the grin in his voice. You can hear it in the way his voice twisted into a pretty breathy noise at the end of his question, hope tainting his tone.

“You askin’ me out Harrington?”

“Depends,” he tapped his chin and you bit your tongue to hold back any remark you’d later regret, instead taking his bait.

“On what?” You wouldn’t ever tell him but you had the incomprehensible urge to squeeze him then, when his grin got wider and his cheeks split with the force of it. To make sure that this moment has substance and it isn’t something you conjured up in your free time.

“D’you want me to?” 

“Think the kid’s boutta answer for me,” his brows pucker, “So yes, for the boy.” You decide.

“For the boy.” He agrees.

“Till tomorrow then?” 

“Till tomorrow.” He agrees. There’s a sort of unspoken agreement between the two of you. Treat whatever it is that there still is between you like it doesn’t exist. Assume that every interaction from now on would be for the boy. No matter how much you enjoy it, it couldn’t possibly be because you want it. Ridiculous.

-

He follows through the next day, though you half didn’t expect him to, opening the door to find Steve all dressed up with lavender in a bouquet. You tell him you’re just finishing your hair—you hadn’t even started. Steve can tell, noticing the familiar frantic note in your voice.

“Take as long as you want, yeah? I’ll be right here.” 

The sweet smell of flowers travels down the hallway and reaches the bathroom. Heat blossoms in your chest and rolls over your skin, filling you until your cheeks are full of warmth. You’re out about 30 minutes later, haphazardly pulling a confused Steve into the bathroom to help you pick a necklace.

“Honey, couldn't you have shown me this out there?” He whispers after pointing to a piece of jewelry. 

“Didn’t think of that then,” you turn around and hand both ends of the chain to him before continuing.

“D’you get here okay?”

It’s a dumb question and you know it. He loves less than 10 minutes from you and he’s been to yours more times than you can count. But he indulges you.

“For the most part yeah, rode through a storm or two though.” You can feel a huff of his laughter against your neck as he fiddles with the clasp. Steve had never been good with chains and clasps smaller than his fingers, having grown accustomed to thick ropes and metal and leather reins.

“Oh?” Your lips quirk at the corners. “D’you dry off before you came in?”

“Of course, wouldn’t wanna get mud all on your floor now would I darlin’.” His tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips as he focuses, exhaling suddenly as he finally connects the clasps. “S’that it?”

Your thumb and index feel at the little chain links, searching for the clasp. “You know what?” You smile.

He mirrors it. “What?”

“I think you might’ve done it. Well done, Steve.”

“Did I?” He adjusts the necklace. “Maybe I did.”

“That’s what I like to call growth Harrington.”

“Yeah?” His voice is warm with affection. Positive reinforcement always did wonders for the boy.

You hum your approval, “Last time I asked you couldn’t even undo the latch when I handed it to you.”

“Last time you asked I was 17 and dumb.” His tone is flat like you’d struck a nerve. You aren’t exactly sure why—he’d brought your separation on himself. 

“‘m not exactly sure being able to successfully put on a necklace is what measures intelligence.” He smiles, your attempt to lighten the air having been successful. One day you’ll tell him that you only ask him to help with your clasps because the fire it lit under the skin of your neck was an addictive one. No matter how much time apart you’d spent and how bad he is at it you couldn’t help but crave it. But today isn’t that day.

“Couldn’t tell the difference between a stallion and a mare.”

“Steve, I still can’t do that.”

“Shit like that is part of my job peach.” His voice drops to a dramatic whisper. “Though if you really need to know you could always look at the underside. ‘s pretty foolproof.”

A puff of laughter erupts from your throat. “Steve ‘m gonna ask you somethin’ and you gotta be honest.”

“Shoot.” He seems to know what you’re planning on asking him, warmth flushing his cheeks even before your lips part

“How many times have you done that?”

“Oh come on darlin’ now you’re just tryin’ to embarrass me.”

You smile and his cheeks flush with warmth

“You need humblin’ every so often, I'm just taking it into my own hands.”

“You want me to be honest?” You nod and his voice drops to a whisper, “A lot. More than you would believe.”

“Makes sense. You were always real good at limbo.”

He laughs at that. “You think I’m good at limbo all ‘cause of looking at a horse's underside?”

“You said it, not me.” 

His heart is filled with sticky sweet adoration, the feeling running through his veins and under his skin. “I’ve missed you, peach.”

“You gonna take me out first or not Harrington?”

“How could I possibly forget with you lookin’ like that? You all dolled up just for me?” He tips his head forward, the brim of his hat eye level with you as he takes your hand in his.

You press your hand to your chest, a little dramatic but that’s the point. “Who else would I look like this for, hm?”

Steve grins, the kind that’s gorgeous and just a bit too cocky and you love it. He tugs you out the door with that, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side door before getting in himself.

“Say, the storm you rode through, which horse got stuck in it with you.”

“Think it’s the one you named, Cinnamon.”

“You went through with naming that poor horse, Cinnamon? Steven, it was a drunken suggestion.” He laughs, warm and low.

“Cinnamon doesn’t mind it, I’ll tell ya a secret though,” his voice lowers to a whisper, “I think Nutmeg despises her for it. The whole spice thing.”

“Stole Nutmeg’s thing hm?”

“‘s what she says.”

Your finger trails up the length of his arm, connecting freckles on tanned skin. “‘s romantic y’know, riding the horse I named to my house.”

“Of course it is, I came up with it.” You tilt your head and lift a brow. He laughs. “Not without your help of course.”

You hate how much you perk up when he says that. You hate how much you want yourself to hate him but you can’t bring yourself to, because no matter how many times you thought over the way Steve left you however many years ago, he still has you. And you still have him. And neither of you want to say it, but in this moment the boy that's brought you together couldn’t be further from your mind.

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 20/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 21, PART 22

Like ketchup. Slowly then all at once.

Radioapple!

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

Lucifer still feels like he's underwater, floating where the current takes him. He thinks he's dreaming because his eyes refuse to open all the way.

At least he isn't burning anymore.

It's mostly quiet, the only sound he can hear is the sloshing of the water.

It's calm. He doesn't know how long has it been since he's been calm in the quiet without company.

Once in a while though, he hears voices. The waves carry them in weird intervals and he tries very hard to think who is talking.

'You'll be okay, Luci.'

'I'll do everything to make you comfortable and back to full health.'

'AN HONOR TO SERVE YOU, SIRE. DO GET BETTER. I SHALL GIVE YOU THE BEST SERVANT THE GOETIA CAN PROVIDE.'

'Big bro, if you wake up now, I'll give you a lifetime supply of my juice!'

'Okay fine, I'll change Looloo Land's name fo real, yeah?'

'You need to meet Fizzie still, Luci.'

'Don't worry sir! I didn't touch a single duck in your room when I cleaned it. No more bugs though!'

'Zestial and I give our deepest gratitude in behalf of the overlords, Your Majesty.'

'Charlie is a fast learner.'

'Oh, Your Majesty, do wake up. I don't think I can take any more of Alastor's not-rambling. I love me some romance but whooowee, a woman has her limits, yknow!'

'I don't think I can eva' thank ya enough fo' setting me free, short king.'

'Pretty badass, your kingness.''

'I want to get to know you still sir.'

'Darling, do come back to me now. I miss you so. And do not listen to any of Rosie's lies.'

'Dad, please wake up. I need you.'

The last voice caused the calm waters to turn into a whirlpool and he feels himself being pulled down. A bright light appears in front of him, illuminating the deep, dark waters. And for a moment, just a moment, he thinks- no it couldn't be;

He reaches out a hand to touch but as soon as it did, he was propelled to the surface.

Lucifer wakes up slowly and then all at once. The King blinks in confusion and trying to get his eyesight to clear. A blurry figure of white is the first to greet him; no face but it's smiling?

'Father?'

Charlie: Dad!

Huh?

Lucifer: Charlie?

He winces at the state of his voice. Did he scream himself sore? He tries remembering what happened and-

The roots.

Roo.

A ritual.

Charlie.

Hell.

Sloth.

Goodie.

The deal.

A prophecy.

A sudden pain stabbed his head which caused him to groan.

Lucifer: Shit!

He forces himself to sit up just to relieve it a little. A rubbing hand on his back grounds him a bit. Looking up, he came face-to-face with his daughter. His sweet, lovely, Charlie.

Charlie: Woah, Dad. Take it easy. Here have water and some pain meds. Aunt Bel left it here just in case.

He doesn't need to be told twice as he took the pill, noting the bitter taste in his mouth. Pride be damned (ha! get it?), he just wants the pain to go away.

Charlie is still fussing and talking a million miles per hour and Lucifer doesn't have the heart to make her stop even though his head is about to split in half.

Maybe Charlie will forgive him if he snaps right now. Thankfully that doesn't happen as a new person comes to enter his room.

Alastor: Charlie, dear, I think your father would appreciate a quieter room.

Charlie: - Oh, Al! Right! Sorry, dad.

Lucifer: It's okay, applepie. Can you also dim the lights a bit?

Alastor: Charlie, might I ask of you to get food for your father? There should be some leftovers still.

Charlie: O-oh I- Sure, Al! Be right back, dad!

As soon as she left, Alastor moves to Lucifer's bedside. Lucifer follows his movements and only then does the King realize the insane amount of flowers taking up every space in his room. And then he realized that Alastor has some in his hands too.

Lucifer: What's all this?

Alastor: Why, tokens from your loved ones and dearest citizens. These ones are of mine.

The Radio Demon points at the golden Marigolds. Lucifer observes the other flowers and sees that every bunch has atleast a few Marigolds tucked in them.

Did.. did Alastor put them there so he could have the most flowers given? What a possessive bastard.

His endearment must be obvious in his face because Alastor huffed- freaking huffed!

Alastor: Whatever you are thinking, it is simply nonsense.

Lucifer puts his hands up in a mock surrender.

Lucifer: I didn't say anything.

Alastor: Good.

Alastor can be so cute when he wants (or not want?) to be. His lover? partner? Yeah, partner, sits down by his side, letting Lucifer lean onto his shoulder.

He's not soft like Lilith but Lucifer feels just as content. The sin of Pride stares at his arms that is now covered in runes he doesn't understand, no longer just plain black. Roo really did a number on him- her powers were far too strong it basically altered his appearance. He's more demon now than he was ever an angel. He doesn't know how to feel about that.

Alastor: Some things are to be discussed, right, Your Majesty?

Lucifer: Mmm. Yeah. But- I can't. Not right now. I'm not sure if I can.

Alastor: That's alright, mon ange. We are not in a hurry. We have our afterlife.

Lucifer bites his lip and holds Alastor's hands in guilt. This is a burden he must carry himself. What's inside him... it would be more dangerous if anyone else knew, especially Heaven. It's better to think of it as a wild card than a ticking time bomb.

Alastor hums a tune that makes him sleepy again. He doesn't remember falling asleep but he does vaguely recall being laid down again. He remembers a feeling of a kiss on his forehead, something brushing his cheek and moving his hair.

A nice calm before the storm.

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

Charlie took so long cos she wanted to heat it up but the microwave is missing?? (Alastor's doing)

Next chapter, Luci will wake again and have a talk with Charlie

Just wanted to get some Radioapple in there.

[p4pert0wle]

Why is it only now that I realize that they killed the lawer,LIKE AFTER THIS MOMENT

LIKE YOU CAN SEE BLOOD ON THE DOOR LEFT WHERE OZZIES HAND IS,AND FIZZY WIPING OFF THE BLOOD.

WHAT?

I WAS SO DISTRACTED BY THEIR LIL NUZZLE THAT I JUST HADN'T CAUGHT IT UNTIL NOW???

I love this episode-

Anyways

Art

I'm upset,I know that in order to get better at drawing them is to draw them constantly.BUT OZZIES WEIRD COLLAR THING JUST KEEPS THROWING ME OFF SM qwq

But I love him,love him sm.

Yes I know fizz is really tiny when compared to them,bros supposed to be just gigantic.But I doubt this will be the last time I draw them.

There isn't much context for the drawings,but for the first one I just imagine it's after the episode.And the other one,just them joking around idk-

I'm in nothing but pain bc I just feel like I'm not doing them justice,but then again this is like the second time I tried to do full on drawings of them.

Moving on uh

And then I got bored and um-

Yeah this thing exists now

They were just a concept on a doodle page but then I got attached by the time I finished them.

No I didn't use Ozzy and Fizz's color palette while making him,I just kept looking at this one specific picture of a cockitrace and based his colors off that.

I might change the oranges to be a bit more red to match fizz better,but if anything I wanted his color of blue to be a bit lighter.He still has feathers on the blue parts,I just made them look similar to scales.

I mean,he's a child of a fire breathing chicken this obviously was something that was bound to happen /hj

He's currently in a very early stage of creation,since,I made him while I was half asleep yesterday.So his outfit and other things I will change and need to think over again.

But ye,he :3

I changed his horns,and this is more a teenage version.Aiden isn't a name I fully like but I wanted a fire based name for him.Idk if I'm gonna keep his eyelashes.

AND THE OUTFIT AIN'T PERMANENT,STILLY FULLY TRYING TO FIGURE HIM OUT-

IT'S KINDA A PLACEHOLDER OUTFIT,BC I GENUINELY NEED TO THINK MORE ON IT qwq

Whatever outfit I put him in however,I wanna like put a wing design on the back bc like alot of cockitrace's have wings.And if I make a demon design for him,I'm gonna give him wings.

I kinda wanted to give him more neck fluff like Ozzy that would grow kinda similarly into the whole mane he's got.

He's very much wip rn

But yeah that's about it rn,hope you have a wonderful Day/Night to anyone who see this :3

[bellysoupset]

In your last fic, Luke mentioned that it’s bulking season, so I have an idea pertaining to that. I read somewhere that eating right before going to bed is an effective way of gaining weight, but it can also lead to indigestion. Maybe Luke overeats before going to sleep with Bella. He wakes up the next morning still feeling really full and now he’s nauseous. Maybe he tries to hide it from Bella because she warned him about this happening the night before, but he ends up puking and he has to admit she was right

(I love your writing btw, I’ve fallen in love with all of your characters <3)

"No," Bella shook her head, snatching the banana from his hands, "absolutely not, Lucas."

He let out a whine and stretched on the couch, trapping her with his legs and retrieving the banana, "sorry, babe, I need this one more than you do."

"I don't want your puta banana," Bella scoffed, trying to fight him for it, "I just watched you clear four plates of food, Lucas and a weight gain shake. You're literally so stuffed you're breathing wrong. Give me the fucking-"

"Nope," he unpeeled it, ducking his head and belching, "I'm already behind in my weight plan."

"Your weight plan!?" Bella widened her eyes at him, "Luke, you spent half of yesterday's night feeling sick. Stop this, baby, you've eaten-" she scoffed as he gobbled up the banana in three quick bites, "goddammit, Lucas."

"Don't be mad at me," he whined, rubbing his gorged stomach, "it's part of the game, Bells."

"Forgive me if I don't like seeing you feeling sick," Bella cringed, crossing her arms and sitting as far away from him as she could in the couch.

He opted for not saying anything, since any argument he tried surely would only make Bella more pissed. After a minute of heavy silence she let out a sigh and uncrossed her arms, getting up from the couch and stomping away.

Lucas groaned, sliding down on the couch and resting a hand on his stomach. More than a small part of him agreed with Bella. He loved eating, but this was too much. His previous bulking seasons had been harsh, yes, but at least then he didn't have to gain so much.

Now, after two stomach bugs in a row, appendicitis, and the, frankly offensive, amount of weight he had lost during the break up, this one was proving to be particularly hellish. He had gone down two sizes of jeans.

"Here," Bella said, startling him and Luke raised his eyes, puzzled. He had expected her to be sulking in bed. Instead she was holding a glass of water, an antiacid already fizzling inside of it. She still looked plenty pissed off, but there was concern dancing in her eyes, "and come to bed."

"In a bit, I don't think I should lie down right now," Lucas took the glass of water, but didn't let go of her hand, planting a kiss on her fingertips, "thank you, baby."

She rolled her eyes, annoyed still, and pulled her hand from his grasp, only to comb her fingers through his hair, "you can thank me by taking it easier tomorrow," she said strongly, planting a kiss on top of his head, "I'm going to bed."

He knew she was still annoyed, because otherwise she'd have stuck around.

Lucas let her go, sipping on the fizzy water and trying to work up some satisfying burps to ease the tension in his stomach. Eventually, though, the pressure of his belly pressing down on him and the ache in his throat from the acid reflux, started taking its toll. His eyes dropped and Luke yawned, eyeing the short corridor that led to their bedroom. Bella had left the door open, he could see the television light spilling out, but didn't have the energy to get up.

He ended up falling asleep right there.

Only for his alarm to go off at six AM, a room away from him. He woke up with Bella letting out something he could only classify as a growl, sleepily trying to find his phone to turn the alarm off.

"I got it," Lucas said, voice thick with sleep as he stumbled, drunkenly, into their room and patted the bed to find it. She opened one eye, her curls a lion's mane around her head.

"Turn that fucking thing off, Lucas."

"Sorry, sorry-" he finally retrieved it from the mess of blankets and turned off the alarm. 06H05 AM. Bella let out a heavy sigh, turning on the bed so she was facing away from him, "come to bed."

It was so tempting... But he had gym. And then classes from eight to six PM.

"Sorry, baby," Lucas sighed, crawling on the bed so he could plant a kiss on her cheek. She let out a frustrated huff, but didn't bother saying anything else and he got out of the bed, walking to the bathroom.

Normally by morning his dinner had gone down considerably. He had given up on the "3 AM shake" tactic that most football players subscribed to, after the second night it had him bolting to the bathroom to puke everything up. He couldn't even imagine how Vince managed it.

Today he looked just as bloated as the previous night. Instead of his weight being lower in his torso, his belly was still painfully taut from the top of his stomach onwards, making it look like he was puffing his stomach out. He cringed, poking it lightly and belching when the poke awakened a couple gurgles.

Lucas grimaced as the churning started back up and he slowly peeled off his clothes, forced to pace himself in order to not upset his belly more. He didn't normally shower before gym, only right after, but today if he didn't shower he was going to fall back asleep.

By the time he arrived to the gym that was near campus, Lucas was starting to doubt anything was digesting at all. His stomach was gurgling non stop, but it was still rock hard and he had been forced to wear his biggest pair of track pants, because anything else had felt like he was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste.

Vince was already in the gym, throwing the cross fit ropes, grey tank top drenched with sweat.

"Morning," Lucas groaned, walking closer as he started, or attempted to, his warm up.

"Morn- Damn, Luke, you good?" Vince raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were against the 3 AM shake-" he eyed Luke's bloated stomach, pushing on the fabric of his gym top.

"I am," Lucas grimaced, "this is all dinner. It's sitting like a brick."

Vince whistled, looking shocked, "did you take any medicine...?"

"Which?" Lucas sat on the ground as he attempted to stretch and touch his toes, "I'm just bloated, I don't have heartburn to take TUMS and pepto is just going to back me up," he rolled his eyes.

Vin shrugged, "I guess," he said in a worried tone, "you're just looking a little pasty, brother."

"Yeah," Lucas agreed even though there was nothing to agree. He finally touched his toes and groaned, letting his head hang in the space between his outstretched arms as the position made his stomach ache fiercely.

There was no way he could manage to train at all. Lucas quickly gave up on the possibility of lifting anything today when even trying to lift a dumbell had him gagging against his hand. He joined the aerobics class, trying to at the very least stay moving. Normally he could do the little old ladies class with his eyes closed, but today even that was kicking his ass.

A woman in her late fifties chuckled as she passed him by once the class was over and he was sprawled on the ground, trying to keep himself from puking, "Lucas, this was sad."

"I know," he groaned, pathetically, "rematch next week, Mrs. Fitz?"

"Uhm," she pretended to think about it, "only if you don't pout when I kick your ass. Have a nice day, Luke-" she waved him goodbye, joining the group of married women who were herded near the door, giggling.

Lucas rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling, only to have the lights shadowed when Vince leaned over him, "flirting with cougars doesn't count as exercising, Luke," he said cheekily, offering a hand to pull Luke up, "did you at least manage to work up an appetitie for breakfast?"

Lucas reeled at the thought of the greasy, carb loaded breakfast that awaited him, "fuck no," he whined and Vince paid him no mind, squeezing his nape and steering him to the showers.

He felt drunk by the time they entered the large communal bathroom. Without any sense of which way was up, the whole world twirling in rhythm with his guts. Lucas wasn't sure why it the nausea wasn't backing down, it had been hours...

He sat down on the bench, trying to muster up energy to undress and Vince, already under the water and washing his hair, glanced in his direction. He was tall enough that even with the stall closed, he had a clear view of the bathroom, "Luke?"

Lucas groaned, spreading his legs apart and tugging on his sweat drenched top. It was clinging to his belly and it was too much. He grabbed the neckline and tugged on it until he managed to undress it, probably damaging the tanktop.

Now shirtless, he glanced down and let out a whine, getting a clear view of his stomach. It was huge and gurgling fiercely.

"Get in the shower, Luke, you just need to wash the gross feeling away," Vince said, very wisely. Normally it'd be a good advice, but today Lucas thought he was past the "wash the gross away" stage.

He all but crawled to the shower and didn't have any energy to wash himself, instead opting for just staying under the cold spray for as long as he could get away with it. Staring at the swirling water, he worked up a nasty wet belch that had Vince saying "Luke?" in a worried tone.

He braced against the tiled wall with one arm, the other one cradling his stomach and swallowed fiercely, battling the nausea, "I'm fine!" he Lucas yelled back. He was not going to lose that dinner after so many hours feeling like shit.

"I'm fine," he repeated, jaw heavy, lifting his head so he could get a gulp of water and spitting it back out to get rid of the sweet saliva flooding his mouth.

Vin was in a great mood as they walked to the nearest café. A mood Lucas wanted to join in, but he could barely participate in the conversation, his head throbbing with the hours of discomfort.

"Cheer up," Vince rattled him by the shoulders and approaching the barista, "hi Jenny."

Jenny was just seventeen, with a round face and big curls around it. She had a huge crush on Leo, of all people, and Vince loved holding this over his head.

"Hi Vince," she smiled brightly, "hi Lucas..." then she trailed off, glancing past their shoulders in search of Leo. Vince's smile was wolfish with how entertained he was.

"Leo doesn't take up the six AM slot anymore, Jenny," he said, whispering, "he's moved to eight AM, before work."

Her face lit up at the new information, "oh yeah? And do you think he'll still come here without you guys?"

Lucas glared at Vince when he nodded eagerly, clearly trying to get Leo in an awkward situation, "yeah, with his boyfriend," Luke said sourly and Jenny's happy smile fell.

"Ah... He's dating?"

Vince rolled his eyes at Lucas, then smiled sympathetically to Jenny, "for almost a year now, Jen, sorry," he said, as if the teenager had ever had a shot.

She pouted, looking heartbroken.

Vince huffed as they sat outside the cafe, a bunch of pastries piled on his plate, a sad looking croissant before Lucas, "well, there goes the extra caramel drizzle I got, Lucas, thank you very much."

"You're an ass," Lucas scoffed, then tried to nibble on the croissant, only to put it down immediately as his stomach let out an angry gurgle at the prospect of more food. Cold sweat broke over his lips and he groaned, leaning and folding his arms on the table, resting his chin on them, "I feel like crap."

"You look worse," Vince said, still annoyed about the previous interaction and finishing up a blueberry muffin in two bites, "we are so gonna lose this season," he said morosely, picking at the berries of the next muffin, "we don't have Jon or Leo in the team anymore. You're a mess-"

"I'm fine," Lucas scoffed, latching his lips around the straw of his latte and sucking in. Yes, it tasted good, but the sugary beverage was too much. His mouth watered in the worst way possible and forcefully swallowed it down, "I'm fine, I just need to bulk-"

"I am broken," Vince continued, ignoring him, "even with all the physical therapy, my shoulder and ribs hurt like a bitch whenever the temperature drops and my breathing isn't right-"

Lucas' stomach churned with renewed fury as Vince's complaints washed over him. He hated losing, had always hated losing... He ducked his head and let out a sick sounding burp to his lap, before grabbing the drink and squeezing it in his hand, bringing the straw back to his mouth.

"-and it's just a fucking bummer, if the Tigers win again I'm going to personally beat up Tyler-" Vince's paused the ranting, frowning, "Lucas, stop-" he reached over the table to grab the drink, "put down the drink."

"I can do it," Luke slurred, pressing his eyes closed and moving back and out of Vin's reach, "we're not going to lose-"

"We're gonna lose regardless of you hurling all over your shoes or not, give me the fucking- Ah, porca miseria," Vince interrupted himself when Lucas gagged harshly, "Luke, c'mon, man..."

It was too late, though. He tried to swallow the next mouthful of his creamy coffee drink, only for his throat tp refuse to work. Lucas groaned, holding it in his mouth, planting the drink back on the table.

Faintly he could hear Vince was saying something, but Luke wasn't even sure of what to do. He couldn't swallow, at all. His stomach clenched and he slammed a hand over his lips, cheeks puffing out in a cartoonish manner.

He felt his chair be dragged, a feat only Vin could manage and then his big hand came to rest between Lucas' shoulder blades, pushing him to lean forward.

The coffee came up without him even gagging. He coughed, spluttering as the liquid hit the ground and struggled to breathe, trying to keep everything else inside.

"It's fine, Luke," Vince rubbed his back in a soft manner, although he sounded a bit frustrated, "just take a deep breath, you're fine."

"I want to go home," Lucas whined, hugging his sick stomach. He knew there was no way his dinner was going to stay down now that his gag reflex was triggered, so his classes for the day were bust, "Vin-"

"Yeah, alright, man," Vince sighed, helping him up, "you're a silly idiot, you know that?"

Luke let out a whimper, exhausted and sick. His nerves were fried and the bantering was lost on him. Vince drove him home, the car's silence so thick one could cut with a knife and he helped Lucas all the way to the door, knocking on it as he unlocked.

"Bells?" Vince called, about to hang Lucas' car keys, but he shook his head.

"Keep it, otherwise you'll be late for class-"

"Well, I can get a ride back, it's fin-"

"What the fuck is happening here?" Bella scoffed, interrupting them both. She was standing on the doorway to the kitchen, in just her pjs, hair in a ponytail, "why are you back home?"

"Because I threw up"

"Because he's an idiot"

Lucas glared at Vince, falling on the couch, "because I'm too sick for class," he explained and Bella raised a judgmental eyebrow, then glared at Vin herself.

"You," she said in a cold manner, "you've been egging him on with this madness, you ass. Get out of my house."

"Me!" Vince cried out, but there was a hint of humor in his voice as Bella crossed the room to shove him out, "I'm innocent! It's not my fault he's got the stomach of a delicate little baby-"

"Out!" Bella scoffed, shoving his arm a little harder, "and take the stupid protein shakes with you!"

"That's theft-" Vince giggled, barely moving with her shoving. His chuckle got interrupted when Lucas let out a sick sounding burp and groaned "...ohgod" sprinting down the hallway.

Bella cringed, pinching her nose bridge, "get the hell out of here, Vince," she said, then turned around, giving up on shoving him out and following Lucas into the bathroom.

"It's not even nine yet, Luke," Bella groaned, crouching next to him. He was folded over the toilet, resting his cheek on the seat, higyene be damned.

"m'sorry," he groaned, "should've listened-"

"Yeah yeah, you should," she rolled her eyes, cupping his face and pushing the bangs away from his eyes, "whatever did you gorge on this morning?"

"Nothi-" Lucas lurched forward, loudly heaving and bringing up another mouthful of foul vomit. Bella cringed at the smell, hitting the flush, while he hung over the toilet water, groaning and panting.

She sighed, moving forward to hold his forehead and rubbing his back with the other hand, "okay, get it up, Lucas. It's just too much food, you'll feel better soon."

"Don't think so," he scoffed, spitting in the water, "I think-" he belched, leaning his forehead on her palm, "I think I really overdid it."

Bella bit the inside of her cheek with annoyance and concern. She couldn't believe he had pushed himself so badly he was actually sick, after so many days sick already.

"Goddammit, Lucas," she sighed, thumping his back lightly when it sounded like he was choking. He let out a whimper, digging a hand on his stomach.

"Bella, kill me."

"I'm considering it," she teased, planting a kiss on his shoulder, "I'm going to let my team know I'll be offline this morning, give me a second."

Lucas groaned, feeling a whole new shade of shitty as he realized he had interrupted her mid work and braced against the toilet bowl again. Despite the puking, he didn't feel even a little bit better. If anything he felt worse.

He pressed his palm against his stomach and pressed, trying to rub it, only managing to give himself a bruise and cough mercilessly over the bowl.

She returned not even five minutes later, seeming a little more at ease than before and crouched down next to him as Lucas continued to dry heave.

"You're done, Lu," Bella sighed, straightening him up, "you're done."

"No," he shook his head, leaning back against the bathtub and hugging his stomach, "I feel awful, Bell... And I'm not done."

She wrinkled her nose not to say I-told-you-so and flushed the toilet again, grabbing their hand towel and wetting it so she could wipe his mouth and the cold sweat all over him.

"Okay, we're gonna go sit in the living room, alright? This way I can work and stay with you."

"But I'm not do-"

"We'll get you a bucket," Bella said, helping him up with a grunt, "c'mon, big guy-"

It took them a minute, Lucas pausing every other step to gag against his hand, but they made it back to the living room. The front door was shut and Lucas scoffed as he saw his car keys resting on the table.

"Vince is such a proud asshole."

Bella rolled her eyes, helping him lean back against the couch pillows, "pot calling the kettle black here, Lucas," she said, voice traveling from the kitchen. Soon she returned with a million things on her arms: his large water bottle, an empty bucket, a roll of toilet paper, her laptop, her laptop support.

"Ugh, I'm sorry," Lucas sighed, curling up, "I completely ruined your day."

"You didn't ruin it. I can code with one hand, it's just very slow" Bella smiled at him, planting the bowl on his arms and the water bottle on the ground as she fixed her set up, "c'mere, baby."

It didn't matter how bad he felt about interrupting her job, Lucas gratefully slumped against her, resting his head on her lap and sighing in relief when he felt her hand rest on his bloated stomach.

Bella kept rubbing circles on his stomach, then up his chest, stroking his cheek and petting his hair... Then back down, in a gentle rhthym. Lucas let out a heavy sigh, snuggling closer.

"I'm gonna take it easier from now on," he promised, kissing the inside of her wrist when her hand went up to stroke his cheek, absently minded.

Bella sighed, leaning in and planting a kiss on his forehead, "I mean, it just seems counterproductive to try to gain weight if you puke everything you ate," she teased, her breath tickling him and Lucas snorted, moving his face to bury his nose against her pajama's shirt.

[narrators-journal]

Hi hi for kinktober could you do Tatsujun with Aphrodisiacs please

I’m back on my variety bullshit lmao. And, I hope you enjoy it because of that! I tried to shake up the type of smut, and lean more into the fact that Aphrodisiacs are usually something you’ve eaten or been dosed with? Was gonna go so many directions with this one. Tatsuya being hit with Marin Karin, Werewolf Tatsuya chasing Jun down in his rut, Jun just, up and dosing Tatsuya himself with a lust drug, so many directions. But! I finally settled on this one, and I’m quite happy with it! And I hope you enjoy it too! Thank you for humoring my fangirl barking for these two <3

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: aphrodisiacs, teratophilia yet again ehe, thigh humping, couch sex, and Tatsuya doesn’t really ask for the clearest permission, but I don’t think there’s much that’s dubious about this scenario lolol.

Go out, have fun. You’re a werewolf, it’s not like anyone can overpower you. Tatsuya Suou thought through the drunken, drugged up fog that infected his brain with that same feral lack of focus that the werewolf got when his rut was around the corner. His vision as jittery as the muscles beneath his skin, his heart athunder behind his ribs, lightheaded from the amount of blood that plummeted down to his dick while he limped his way up the porch steps and stumbled his way into the home he shared with his childhood friend. I guess Jun didn’t consider that Eikichi...drugs…

The artificial light of the living room briefly left the tall brunette to stand in the doorway, his warm coffee eyes slowly blinked until the harsh shift from the dim moonlight had mellowed and he could see into the living room. Where, he spotted his roomie.

Jun Kurosu, who sat on their couch in a baggy graphic t-shirt and a pair of boxers with confusion in his warm grey eyes. An average height man with fairly shaggy black hair, porcelain-clear, ghostly pale skin, and innate sexual magnetism thanks to his vampirism. Able to deftly toe the line between the genders like a master funambulist, with a sugary personality that attracted the flies he required to live. Which were all factors that made rooming with the dark-haired vampire had been Tatsuya’s best, yet simultaneously worst life choice.

The best, because the vampire’s presence always made the werewolf’s tail wag, his heart thump, and his tanned face warm up. But, also the worst, because, despite being childhood friends, he wasn’t close enough to the gorgeous vampire to confess his feelings. After all, when Tatsuya’s wolf had come to the surface at the age of thirteen, Jun’s mother had forbade him from being friends with the brunette. Which, was a ban that lasted up until they finally met again when they were well into adulthood and each in desperate search of a roomie. So, it would’ve been painfully weird if Tatsuya had punctuated their first year of room-mate-dom with some admission of how badly he wanted Jun to be the only person he folds in half when his rut hits each year. That he, maybe, wanted to try and hump a baby into his ass one day.

Or, maybe that day.

Maybe right that moment...

Right now. He decided. One of his sneakers instantly lodged into the wall above Jun’s head from how hard he’d kicked it off of his foot to get to his pants next. Much to the shocked exclamation of the ravenette sat in his pajamas on the couch. “Tacchi?!” Jun squawked, though whether that was because the tall brunette’s frantic scramble to lose his pants had swiftly sent him to the carpet, or because he was all but turning his pants to scrap in a desperate bide to escape them a step into their shared home. The smaller man swiftly at the werewolf’s side to pull him to his feet and closed the front door for him.

All the while, he talked at the slightly drunk, potentially high, werewolf. His expression clearly one of embarrassment, but the words that he threw at him seemed to bounce off of the impenetrable layer of fizzy need that zipped and burrowed into Tatsuya. All he could focus on was Jun’s lips as they continued to form inaudible words while he herded the werewolf towards the couch and tried to pull him down onto it.

However, all that got him was the werewolf unceremoniously plopped into his lap. And, as soon as his knee so much asbrushed the tent in the brunette’s pants, the brunette’s skin turned into a sous vide bag in the hot tub of drug-induced lust. Which, was such a simple nudge of contact, yet it was still enough to get him to bare his teeth and trap the ravenette’s leg between his own. His hands all but teleported to the vampire’s shoulders for some form of stability against the abrupt onslaught of need and desire. “Woah there! No need to snarl.” Jun tried, his hands on the man’s hips as he looked up into the brunette’s warm, lust-blown brown eyes. But, the need that crawled over the brunette’s skin and made his boxer-clad cock twitch, was far too loud for him to really register his words over the lightning that zapped through his veins.

The heat in his skin, the thump of his heart against his ribs, the breaths that turned into moans before they could leave his throat. It all swirled around in the brunette’s head as he humped against Jun’s knee without a single thought, and any further words from the ravenette turned into incoherent noises more suited for animal crossing or a Charlie Brown special. Need it. I need it. Was the only coherent chant that bubbled up into his head despite the torturous pleasure that he chased so desperately.

To Tatsuya, that pursuit was all that mattered in that moment. The way that the ravenette’s leg pressed against the erection that was trapped in his boxers, the friction, the weight of the vampire’s hands on his hips, and the noxious cloud of drunken desire. Nothing beyond those sensations could get through that thick layer of heat that scalded the overwhelmed werewolf. Which, brought out more desperate moans and whines.

Yet, at least some small part of him seemed to realize the lack of warning he’d given to his room mate. So, he did his best to growl out a, “Sorry.” before he tightened his strong, clawed hands’ grip on the ravenette’s shoulders so that he could try and hump against his room mate’s offered leg. liiiike a needy dog… Meanwhile, one of his feet- or, paw, at that moment -was planted firmly on the living room floor to let his back claws shred the carpet and bite into the flooring beneath so he could support himself as he rode the vampire’s thigh on their couch.

And, if the groaning growls didn’t clarify his enjoyment of Jun’s leg enough, the fact that the only reason the werewolf’s over-eager hips didn’t leave the vampire’s thigh was because of his firm grip. And, while his body temperature was barely high enough to match a human’s, with how Tatsuya’s skin felt sunburnt, that minimal relief still drew out even more moans and got the werewolf to press against Jun’s leg more. Until, at long, torturous last, the flames of lust completely consumed the man until he howled.

Then, Tatsuya crumpled forward onto the ravenette he’d trapped on their couch. The pain of his erection soon ebbed, and in it’s wake, exhaustion sunk into the werewolf’s bones. All the while, he gulped down breaths and waited for the soup that sloshed in his skull reformed into a brain. “I take it your outing was, uh, eventful?” Jun eventually asked, his arms draped loosely around Tatsuya’s waist while he waited for the strength it’d take to go change his boxers. “I...I don’t think I should ever do ecstasy again.” He mumbled, his bleary eyes focused on the tufts of fur that were beginning to adorn his clawed hand and the way his arm muscles began to bulge with animalistic strength. The tired brunette able to feel how his legs had become more canine-like as well as the brush of Jun’s soothing hand, now that he wasn’t swept up in a cacophany of emotions and drunken lust. “I guess not, if this is what it does to you.” The vampire chuckled with nothing but a light flick to Tatsuya’s fluffy ear as he spoke. Which, would’ve made him question the lack of a reaction to his...arguable assault, if Jun’s fingers weren’t slowly threaded through the werewolf’s pageboy-styled hair so sweetly.

[girlactionfigure]

🇮🇱 ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

Morning Report - Wednesday

▪️WAR SIGNS.. British Foreign Ministry has now asked its citizens to leave Lebanon as soon as possible. This joins instructions from: Canada, Kuwait, Germany, Netherlands, Saudi Arabia, Russia, USA, Ireland, Jordan, Australia and Spain.

▪️FRENCH PRESIDENT ASKS.. asked Netanyahu to avoid starting the fire with Hezbollah in Lebanon. Macron also asked all parties involved to move quickly towards a diplomatic solution to the disputes in order to establish stability in the region.

▪️BIDEN.. Barring a surprising last-minute change, Biden will meet with Netanyahu during Netanyahu's upcoming visit to Washington ahead of his speech to Congress.

▪️PROVING BIDEN’S FITNESS - SEE, HE STOPPED ISRAEL.. (N12 quoting NY Times) Biden told Netanyahu in a phone call after the huge Iranian attack on April 14: "Let me be very clear, if you carry out a large-scale attack against Iran - you are left alone." Netanyahu tried to say that a strong response was necessary to prevent future attacks, but Biden said: "If you do that, I'm out," according to the New York Times.

The publication comes as part of an attempt by Biden's associates to provide evidence of the moments when he acted with clarity, sharpness and composure - against the background of the presidential debate.

▪️POLITICS.. Senior member of coalition member United Torah Judaism party meets with opposition leader National Unity party MK Gantz at his home.

▪️UGLY POLITICS.. The state attorney wants to open a criminal investigation against National Security Minister Ben Gvir for making statements against the citizens of Gaza.

.. Statement from the Minister: "Unbelievable! The state attorney is trying to prosecute an Israeli minister, for "incitement" against the citizens of an enemy country who danced on the blood of our soldiers in the streets of Gaza on Oct. 7.”

▪️UGLY “JUSTICE”.. MK Gottlieb: “We have gone off the rails! A country trying to suicide! A soldier who went south on Oct. 7 and fought fiercely against Nuchba terrorists who murdered and raped our sons and daughters, was arrested because in that event, in which he fought with other fighters by his side in fierce battles against brutal terrorists, he courageously eliminated a violent terrorist in the process.

The claim: that the elimination was unnecessary.

We pressed the self-destruct button. Someone is trying very hard to hurt the spirit of our soldiers during combat.”

▪️SAMARIA - 3 TERRORISTS ARRESTED.. 3 armed terrorists arrested in their vehicle by IDF forces near Shevai Shomron.

▪️AFTER RELEASING TERRORISTS.. including the head of Shifa hospital, Honeni notes the Shin Bet today is opposing the release of a Jewish security prisoner convicted of a racially motivated attack on an Arab. One of the reasons is the "explosive situation in light of the war". Multiple channels are commenting: “Releasing terrorists in war is important for stability. Releasing Jews is dangerous and explosive.”

▪️CRITICAL AID DEMANDED - SODA AND CIGS.. According to Palestinian reports, Israel has decided to prevent the entry of fizzy drinks into Gaza. A Gazan journalist: We call on the international organizations to negotiate with Netanyahu so that he will bring cleaning materials, fizzy drinks and cigarettes into Gaza.

▪️ROUTE 1 OVERNIGHT ROAD WORK - AIRPORT IMPACT.. Starting tonight at 10:00 p.m.: Route 1 from the Ganot interchange to the exit from Ben Gurion will be blocked until 5:00 a.m. Entry to Ben Gurion from Tel Aviv will be possible via Route 40 and the Lod interchange only.

♦️IDF watches terrorists plant another road mine (bomb) in Nur Shams, eliminates from the air. 4 terrorists killed. Islamic Jihad claims them.

⭕ HAMAS ROCKETS at Sufa, Holit, near south-Gaza towns.

[tiddiesoutwhenthetisout]

tag from @babyrdie and @greekmythologylover234 .

been a lot of tag games recently huh! thanks for remembering me 🤣

9 people you want to know better

i don't know enough people on here, but i'll be tagging @amnesiaa-on-ice @akhillaous @whorewhouse @naurumii @elnbnt @peggy-sue-reads-a-book

here are the questions to copy-paste:

three ships

first ship

last song

last tv show

currently reading

currently watching

currently eating

currently craving

my answers to them are under the cut so only those who are interested will be reading it (because i'll be yapping) lol

three ships

- patrochilles (duh; probably going to be my favorite, if i'm honest)

- kavetham (admits this semi-shamefully because the rest of the fandom is ass-- but i've left it. glad i did because the recent toxic community will never do me any good. i stressed, i die. simple. was a huge hyperfixation for a year or so though.)

- vashwood (it's been a while, but i really got obsessed with them and the show. watched 1997 once, stampede 3 times, not inclusive of the scattered episodes)

first ship

tbh no idea. it may or may not be solomon and saya from blood+ (great show great show) but i was around 7 when this happened and was just tagging along with whatever my sister had to say about things like these? i'm not a super shippy person either-- i'm not big on these things and certainly a lot less when i was younger. didn't have a lot of interest in couples prolly bc i had no idea what difference it had with friendship. just that you kiss and fuck or something. and i thought that was weird, or well, nothing much to it.

i guess you could say that the first pairing i've ever wanted to defend was zuko and katara from ATLA 🤣 nowadays i understand mai and zuko's relationship and i think it's pretty sweet, but back then i was fixated on zutara chemistry so whee🕺

last song

i haven't been playing music recently since i've been over at my partner's, but "done for" from epic the musical has been playing in my head since i woke up so there's that lol

last tv show

we were looking through netflix for an "easy" show to watch for dinner and got through 2 episodes of the exploding kittens show 🤣 played the game a lot when we got it, plus fond memories of things that happened whilst prompted us to check it out. it's an american tv show i guess, and i've never really vibed with those so it was alright, i guess. the kitties were cute.

currently reading

nothing. finished madeline miller's circe 3 days ago or so, though. my odyssey reading has been suspended for 2 weeks now but i guess it's because i'm pretty much kept up on the plot from randomly reading shit about it on the internet? i'm generally more of a "how did the story go?" person when i get into a book unless i become super obsessed with it. then, i'll dive into the nuances of text and its analysis. which hasn't been happening recently. i'll probably be balls-deep in academic text soon considering i haven't been a good student (our research adviser told us to start doing our thesis papers over the summer holiday so the process will be smoother... guess i'll be disappointing the prof who actually likes me ✊)

currently watching

nothing. finished castlevania (as well as the released season of nocturne) last month and i think that's my quota for shows for a while lol.

currently eating

fast food because the rain started pouring so hard. in time for lunch or so. it was a sign from the lord to spend and have a good time because the world might end tomorrow or something.

currently craving

the other items on the menu i didn't order- kidding lmao. a calzone for some reason, as well as a fizzy drink i usually get from a local cafe run by a nice old lady and youth on the drinks. ok, now i want her pesto sandwich.

ight i'll just eat now brb

[alphacrone]

was thinking about how different lucy’s reaction to the skull talking is in the book versus the show and also how her relationship with the boys is in a much different place at the end of tss because of how long she’s been working with them, so then i got curious as to how exactly she might have told them she could talk to ghosts. and well. then i had to write it.

(also on ao3)

Lucy seemed a bit distracted after she returned from the basement, fizzy drinks and crisp packets in hand. Lockwood couldn’t blame her—after everything they’d gone through at Combe Carey, he often found himself drifting off a bit, replaying the moment he found Lucy teetering at the edge of the well, the moment he opened his eyes and, for a second, thought he’d been reunited with-

See? He was doing it now. “All good, Luce?” Lockwood asked, pouring himself another glass of lemonade.

Lucy looked up, half-startled, and nodded. “Do either of you…?” She paused, a small frown on her face. Lockwood bit back a grin. Lucy’s frowns were as myriad and varied as the ways in which George cleaned his glasses. Each downturn of her mouth had its own meaning and after months of working and living side-by-side, Lockwood was proud to realize he knew them well. This was her deep thinking frown, the one she often had at the Archives when George was speaking too quickly and she was struggling to make sense of his findings.

“Spit it out,” George said, tossing a crisp at her. Her frown morphed into her trademark Carlyle Glare. A lesser man would quiver in his boots, but George simply raised an eyebrow.

Lucy cleared her throat. “Do either of you believe in Type 3s?”

Lockwood and George exchanged curious looks. “Never really thought about it,” Lockwood admitted. “Can’t say I do.”

“You think Marissa Fittes was lying?” Lucy asked. She cast her eyes away to study the Thinking Cloth, picking at a hole in the fabric where Lockwood had dropped a lit match.

George scoffed. “If she wasn’t, she did a shit job trying to convince anyone,” he said. “No third party experiments, no scientific proof, just her word. Enough to convince the terrified masses that Fittes was a better choice than Rotwell.”

“Risky marketing move,” Lockwood said. “Could’ve backfired. Made her look loony.”

“She was a charismatic woman.” George shrugged. “Or people are stupid. Both, maybe.”

The boys laughed, but Lucy’s frown remained. Now it was her I disagree but I’m not sure I should say it frown, more of a pinching of the mouth and furrowing of the brows than anything. It didn’t surprise Lockwood that Lucy wanted to believe in Type 3s. She was so convinced that there was any remnant of humanity left in those monsters, and a talking ghost would prove that. Her optimism was admirable but, ultimately, misplaced.

“What’s this about, Luce?” Lockwood heard himself ask. “Even if they are real, how would any of us know? Marissa Fittes was the only person who could ever hear them.”

“Allegedly,” George muttered.

“Right.” Lucy looked up at him and gave him a wide smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Any bacon butties left, George?”

George passed the last of the sandwiches over. “Now, just because Marissa was probably a fraud doesn’t mean Type 3s aren’t real.”

Lucy paused with the buttie halfway to her mouth. “What makes you say that?”

George picked up a donut and took a bite. “Other people have researched Type 3s,” he said. “Nothing conclusive has ever been proven, obviously, but there’s a spectrum of electromagnetic output that indicates that the classification of Type 2 is far more broad and varied than the classification of Type 1. That is to say, some poltergeists can’t do much more than toss around a tea set, but others can level an entire building. Should the stronger ones be classified as Type 3? Type 2b? And do they display more sentience than the weaker ones? It’s a fascinating field of study.”

Lucy’s thinking frown returned. Lockwood, truthfully, had stopped paying attention after the word “electromagnetic.” You could present him with a Type 100 Visitor and he’d tell you to chuck in the furnaces all the same. Ghosts did not belong on this side of the veil.

Around a mouthful of buttie, Lucy asked George, “If Marissa Fittes were still alive…how would you want her to prove she could speak to Type 3s?”

George’s eyes lit up at the challenge, but something niggled in the back of Lockwood’s mind. It wasn’t like Lucy to encourage George’s weird obsessions like this. The closest she ever got was asking ridiculous “would you rather” questions on long cab rides or while waiting for nightfall on a job site.

“I suppose the easiest way would be to tell the Type 3 something where she couldn’t hear and have her tell me what it said,” George answered, tapping his fingers on the table. “But that would be a difficult environment to control and you never know how a woman of her means could cheat in that situation. We would need several impartial researchers, a third-party location that’s been swept for bugs and cameras, a sound-proof room, maybe some legal documents drawn up-”

Lockwood looked to Lucy, who clearly regretted her question. “What if it wasn’t Marissa?” She asked, interrupting. “What if it was someone you trusted?”

George snorted. “What, like you or Lockwood?”

Lucy nodded and something finally clicked in Lockwood’s brain. “Luce…” he said. “What’s this really about?”

Lucy looked between him and George with a grim expression, the kind you saw in war movies before the protagonist did something very brave or very stupid. Finally, she blurted out, “Theskullinthejarspoketome.”

Both boys were silent for a long moment. Then, Lockwood asked, “Pardon?”

Lucy let her head fall to the table with a thunk. Words muffled against the Thinking Cloth, Lucy repeated, “The skull in the jar spoke to me. Just now. In the basement.”

Another long silence. Lockwood considered laughing. Perhaps Lucy was pulling some terrible, yet elaborate prank. It would be rude not to laugh, surely. George’s face was as impassive as ever, sharp eyes trained on the top of Lucy’s head.

Without a word, he stood and walked towards the basement door, leaving Lockwood alone with Lucy, who now had her face in her hands. It seemed too late to pity laugh now, but he wasn’t sure if he should pat her shoulder or if that would make things worse. Girls could be sensitive about things like that.

George returned seconds later, skull jar in tow, putting Lockwood out of his misery. “Alright,” he said. “I told the skull something Lucy could never know. What is it?”

He plunked the jar down right in front of Lucy, who did not move. She mumbled something Lockwood couldn’t understand.

“What was that?” He asked.

With a heavy sigh, Lucy raised her head. She hadn’t been crying—thank God—but she seemed resigned to a fate Lockwood couldn’t even fathom. “I can’t hear him. The valve is shut.”

Lockwood and George peered at the top of the jar, where a valve could be found. “I’d opened it once or twice, when I first started my experiments,” George said, tapping at it. “But it never changed anything so I stopped bothering. Plus, I got bathwater in there once.”

Ignoring that horrifying image, Lockwood reached over and slowly opened the valve. Nothing happened for a second, then Lucy gasped and covered her ears.

“Shut up!” She roared at the jar. “Shut up! Shut up!”

Lockwood tried to close the valve again but George grabbed his hand to stop him. “For science,” he said solemnly. Lockwood had never wanted to hit him more.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy snapped at the jar. “Oh, boo-hoo. Tell me what George said and I’ll listen to whatever- oh! Fuck off, you nasty skull.”

The boys exchanged bewildered looks. This was possibly the first time anyone had spoken to a ghost since Marissa Fittes and she…was telling it to fuck off. One for the history books, truly.

Lucy drew close to the jar and jabbed a finger against the glass. “You want to talk, then talk. I’ll listen.”

Silence. Lucy stared at the skull, enraptured by whatever she was hearing. Lockwood began to feel a bit awkward, like he was interrupting something he shouldn’t. Then, Lucy stood and walked over to George who watched with bated breath.

“You called my old job after the Hope House?” She asked quietly.

George nodded. “Wanted to know if you’d been sacked for setting anything else on fire. If it was a pattern, I’d have told Lockwood.”

“But it wasn’t a pattern,” she said.

“It wasn’t.” George showed no emotion on his face, but his tone was almost gentle when he said, “I’m sorry.”

Lockwood didn’t quite understand the interaction, though he found himself a bit miffed that George had gone around him to follow up on Lucy’s employment history—-and months after she’d proven herself as agent, to boot. He’d known the moment she’d walked into that interview that Lucy was more than qualified; he hadn’t bothered to follow up on her previous work at all.

“You never said anything.” Lucy took a step closer.

George did not back down. “What was there to say? I confirmed you’d not set any other houses on fire. It was all I needed to know.”

“And now?”

“Now what?”

“Do you know what you need to know now?”

George huffed a laugh. “I do.”

Lucy’s frown—her defiant one, Lockwood’s favorite—melted into a relieved smile. “You believe me?”

“I’d like to run some more tests,” George said. “But yeah. I believe you.”

Lucy turned to Lockwood then, eyes bright and pleading. “Do you…?”

The idea that Lucy would lie to him for this long, even for a joke, was laughable. Lockwood grinned. “Of course I believe you, Luce.”

She looked away, a pleased flush on her cheeks. Lockwood wanted to tease her, make her blush harder, but before he could Lucy was whipping around to scream at the skull to shut up.

“That’s not true!” She hissed, replying to words Lockwood could not hear. “Take that back!”

George sidled up to Lockwood, the last of his donut in hand. “Suppose we’ll have to get used to this.”

Even with her irritated frown and one-sided argument, Lucy shone with a fire that warmed that cold, frozen place in Lockwood’s chest. He grinned and clapped George on the shoulder. “Suppose we will,” he agreed, and he found he looked forward to it.

[via-the-ghoul]

;) here’s a completely normal Monster High AU where absolutely nothing bad happens (it is comically obvious that I am lying)

[Image ID 1: a pink rectangle with a drawing of a Monster High skullette at the left side. Her bow is torn, she’s sweating, and she wears a teal face mask. Teal text is to the right of her, reading: warning: the following contains:

body horror

gore

disease

characters from a children’s franchise in a horror situation

Not suitable for children or the easily disturbed. End ID.”

[Image ID 2: two individuals in front of a grey background. The one on the left is a pale green, and crawling on the ground, as their lower half is missing, and wearing a turquoise plaid dress with “Zap” written on it in yellow. Their long black and white striped hair drags behind them, tainted with blood. Their eyes and nose are missing, and their mouth is completely black, in a hollow grin. They have a blue plaid tie and are missing a hand. They’re covered in blood. The figure to the right is brown with wolf ears and dark brown hair in a bun with a purple tuff of it in the front. Her eyes are golden, and so are a pair of glasses she wears. She wears a black jacket, a belt, dark purple pants, black boots, and a purple face mask. She looks stern, and carries a baseball bat, both it and her covered in blood. A pale green hand lies between the two, and both of them plus the hand have text besides them. Said text, starting with the green individual, then the hand’s, than the one with the bat, reads as follows:

“Frankie Stein

Status: infected

The infection, known as the Power Wasting Curse, manifests in Frankenmonsters as them losing the ability to control their body parts. As such, most of Frankie’s body is missing. At this stage they have no control and seek to spread the infection until they fall apart.”

“However, the one uninfected part of Frankie, their hand, managed to be removed before it could be infected too, and is now the only part of Frankie controlled by them. Luckily Ghoulia was able to teach them mourse code. They usually just hang around Clawdeen whenever she’s at Monster High as Frankie isn’t allowed to leave.”

“Clawdeen Wolf.

Status: Uninfected

Clawdeen is in charge of the usual patrols outside Monster High, which has been converted into a shelter for survivors. Clawdeen looks around for other survivors in hopes of finding her family, and later Draculaura when she goes missing too.” End ID.]

[Image ID 3: Two individuals in front of a grey background. The one on the left side is sitting down, while the one on the right does a cutesy post, putting their pointer finger from their left hand to their cheek and slightly raising one leg. The left one is a pale turquoise, with a fish tail wrapped around their legs. They wear a black hoodie with pink stripes, a turquoise middle section, and a turquoise fin at the top. They have short fizzy multi-colored hair, said colors being blonde, green, turquoise, and pink. They wear blue shorts revealing their left leg is bandaged, and their hazel eyes paint a somewhat frustrated expression. The right figure has a black and pink gothic lolita dress, a cutesy black hat with a purple bow, white gloves, a black umbrella in their right hand, pink boots, and a face entirely covered in shadows. There is text at the sides of both of them, the sections from left to right reading:

“Lagoona Blue.

Status: uninfected (but injured)

Lagoona broke her leg trying to run from an infected while on a trip with Clawdeen. Luckily Clawdeen managed to get her back to Monster High uninfected, and Lagoona usually stays there now. She’s worried about Ghoulia and Clawdeen’s mental state.”

“Draculaura

Status: Unknown (missing)

It has been 2 weeks since the Power Wasting Curse started spreading, and a week ago Draculaura went missing while on one of Clawdeen’s trips. They were forced to abandon her to get Lagoona back to safety, to Clawdeen’s distress. Since infected vampires eventually turn to dust and no one’s found any trace of her most monsters other than Clawdeen think she’s dead.” End ID.]

[Image ID 4: Two individuals in front of a grey background. The one on the left side is sitting on the floor, their left hand chained to something offscreen. The one on the right side lies on the floor frantically writing something on a piece of paper with a worried facial expression. The one on the left is covered in bandages, the left of their face the only part visible, showing a dark and solemn eye. They wear a teal face mask and a pale teal hospital gown, and also have dark ashy skin and black shoulder-length hair. The one to the right has grey skin, with some rot on the right side, and short blue hair. They have white glasses, a grey striped shirt, a short red sleeve and a short black sleeve, a prosthetic arm, red and black pants, and blue sneakers. Their left arm is bandaged. There are two sections of text for each individual, reading from left to right:

“Cleo De Nile

Status: infected

Cleo got infected by an attack in the back by an infected Deuce. It can’t be removed, but Ghoulia’s managed to keep her in her lab and prevent her from losing control of her rotting body. Cleo’s been going through it and Ghoulia’s the only one who knows she’s still ‘alive’.”

“Ghoulia Yelps

Status: uninfected

Ghoulia is almost always in her lab, frantically trying to find a cure. She cannot lose Cleo, no matter what. She never really talks to anyone anymore unless they start the conversation. She doesn’t know what she would do if she lost Cleo after everything else.” End ID.]

[Image ID 5: Two individuals in front of a grey background. The one of the left walks to the other side, looking worried and carrying a flaming stick. The one to the right leans to the left facing the camera. The one on the left has orange fire hair, pale yellow skin, orange fire horns + tail, and a very scared expression. They wear one pink heart earring, a pink tank top, a black jacket, black and red fingerless gloves, black pants, and red boots. The one to the right has pale green skin, dangling lifeless green snakes for hair, rocks in their eye sockets, fangs, green scales on the left side of their face + their shoulders, and rotting arms. There is blood all over them. They wear a torn black tank top with a white eye design, black pants with knee holes, and no shoes. There are two sections of text for each individual, reading from left to right:

“Heath Burns

Status: uninfected

Abby and Heath were going to visit Marisol when the infection hit, and ended up lost somewhere in Monster Picchu due to the train crashing. Heath is very scared and hungry, if it wasn’t for being with Abby he probably wouldn’t have survived.”

“Deuce Gorgon

Status: Infected

While not patient zero, Deuce was one of the first people to get infected. Patient zero had gone missing in the catacombs and Deuce had gone to look for them. The infection messed up Deuce’s natural protection against his eyes, though luckily all that did was turn his eyes to stone, blinding him. Other infected gorgons have been killed by the infection, but somehow, Deuce is still alive, though he’s certainly not in there anymore.” End ID.]

[Image ID 6: Two individuals in front of a grey background. The one to the left stands still looking at the camera with a face of rage. The one to the right run to the right carrying a large bloodied ice shard in their left hand, and a phone held up to their face in the right one, a suppressed look of worried on their face. The one on the left has cat ears with holes, short orange hair with black stripes, glassey green eyes, a foaming fanged mouth, pale orange skin covered in orange stripes, and a black striped tail. They wear an orange spiked collar, a black jacked with orange striped sleeves, dark pink pants, an orange belt, black striped bracelets, one pink and one green fingerless gloves, and black boots. The one on the right is fat, has short white hair with blue and purple accents, blue sclera and brown purple eyes, freckles, and darker blue hands. They wear a pink hat, a purple shall, a blue jacket, white fluffy sleeves, pink pants, and dark blue sneakers. Both figures have blood on them. There are two sections of text for each individual, reading from left to right:

“Toralei Stripe

Status: infected

Toralei is one of the more dangerous infected. She is filled with rage and has attacked several people. Most scientists looking for a cure claim her to be a lost cause. Any day now, the curse will eventually kill her. Do not approach.”

“Abby Bominable

Status: uninfected

Abby’s been trying to contact Marisol, as she keeps coming in and out. She’s keeping up her usual tough vibe, but is secretly very worried about Heath and Marisol. Luckily they’re in the forest outside Marisol’s home, but it’s very large and neither of them are used to this environment.” End ID.]

Here it is. The Monster High infection AU, or I guess, curse AU, so I didn’t have to worry about the fact that logically 60% of the cast would not be able to get sick. At all. If you have any questions I’d be happy to share!

[frillyfacefins]

Fun-Filled Fizzie Fucking - Chapter 4

Fandom: Helluva Boss Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ozzie/Fizzarolli Tags: Recreational Drug Use, Drugged Sex, long elaborate smut in multiple chapters, Heavy BDSM, BondageOther Additional Tags to Be Added, Weed Brownies, no beta we‘re already in hell, Food Play, not really food kink this time though, nausea play in second chapter but it‘s completely skippable, kind of bad bdsm etiquette, ozzie tries his best but fizzy is still fizzy, Rimming, Showers, Dirty Talk, So Much Dirty Talk Additional Tags for Chapter 4: Fucking Machines, Dom/sub, Subdrop, only beginning though they catch it before it goes too far, Gags, Bratting, Sex Toys, Daddy Dom Ozzie, Bratty Sub Fizzarolli Word Count Chapter 4: 4,796

Also on AO3

Chapter 1 II Chapter 2 II Chapter 3

Summary:

Photoshoots always left Fizz feeling as if somebody had shoved a TENS-unit up his ass and followed it with an espresso enema. ~~~ Fizzarolli comes home high off adrenaline after a big day and gets lovingly brought down by Ozzie with the help of some weed brownies and a new toy Ozzie has been working on…

Well, posting the last chapter of a fic about a pairing that was still a rare-pair when you started/wrote most of it and that is now such a big thing sure is a new experience for me :')

I'm always happy to get nice comments on ao3, but also if you reblog this here I absolutely love that too!

Anyway, here's the last chapter, have fun and mind the new tags!

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

He was immediately cocooned in a gigantic fluffy towel and rubbed down with the same gentle thoroughness Ozzie had used to soap him up earlier. He was already too warm, so the towel made him feel even more stifled, but he accepted the care, especially since he could feel Ozzie walk out of the bathroom and towards their bedroom while he was gently drying his head.

The towel landed on the floor by the bedroom‘s entrance, and so did the shower cap, to be cleaned up by one of the succu-housemaids later. Ozzie, still wet from the shower, nuzzled against Fizz’ forehead for a moment before he put him down on the bed and quickly heated up his own body so the moisture still in his feathers would evaporate. The gust of hot air made Fizz wiggle in a mixture of discomfort and anticipation. The satin sheets only felt pleasantly cool against his skin for a second before his own body heat leeched into them.

“Ozzieeee,” he whined, his eyes glued to his royal lover‘s back. He had walked over to a shelf and was fucking around with something that wasn’t Fizz’s ass and thus obviously completely irrelevant in Fizz’ lust-addled mind. He felt soft, pliant, hot, like a tray of brownies ten minutes out of the oven, and somebody really fucking needed to eat him or he was going to turn to fucking stone.

(The weed having kicked in fully by now didn’t help his already whirling mind come up with decent metaphors, either.)

“Don’t worry baby, daddy’s here,“ Ozzie cooed somewhere to his right as the mattress sagged with his weight. Fizz realized only now that he had closed his eyes, and he opened them just in time to see Ozzie grab his leg before he pulled him into position so he could get to his ass more comfortably. Fizzarolli immediately grabbed his own legs and pulled them open to give Ozzie plenty of access.

He hadn’t seen what Ozzie had grabbed from the shelf, but he wasn‘t surprised to feel a generously lubed finger push into him. Ozzie finger-fucked him for a few delightful moments, then he pulled out and came back with more lube. That repeated another two times, and Fizz was just about to make a stink about how he didn’t need any more lube but he really needed more than a finger, when finally something else was pushing against his entrance. He looked down to see the base of the transparent beaded butt plug with the glitter in it. He frowned as the first two beads slipped into his hyper-slippery hole with hardly even a squelch.

“Ozzie, I swear to fucking Satan, why the fuck is that not your dick?!”

Ozzie winced, but pushed one more bead into him; at least this one, Fizz actually felt. “We talked about this, Fizzlecakes, no other Sin’s names in the bedroom…”

Fizz rolled his eyes and pushed back to make the next bead push into him faster. Oh, yes, that was more like it. Still not as good as Ozzie’s cock would have felt, though.

“Yeah yeah, gonna swear to fucking Bobo the Clown next time, but seriously, Ozzie??”

Ozzie leaned forward and nuzzled against his face. Fizz wanted to stay angry with him, but both the nuzzle and the next bead – this one a little bigger than the size of his own fist – made the addition of anger to his fuzzy mind way too complicated.

“I told you earlier that I’ve got a specific kind of game in mind, right? I need you really, really lose for that, baby.”

Fizz had a fuzzy memory of Ozzie talking about “very specific fun”, but that might as well have been a month ago with how completely unrelated it felt to his current situation.

He still let out a stubborn whine, even though the next bead made him feel nearly full enough to stop the pain of the unbearable vacuum inside of him where Ozzie’s cock should be.

“I know, baby,” Ozzie soothed him as he started to work in the last and biggest bead of the plug – more a ball than a bead, really. “I’m gonna fill you up all nice, then I’m going to put a blindfold on you and get the toy I’ve been working on, alright? And then you’ll get the pounding of your life, I promise.”

“Ozziiieee, that’s gonna take way too looong,” Fizz sobbed, raising his hips hungrily to make the rest of the plug slip in faster. His arms shot out to grab at Ozzie’s fluff and pull him in to just fuck him right now, immediately (not a thought in his head about how much time it would take to pull out the beaded plug again safely).

But Ozzie just let out a few gentle clucks and untangled his robotic hands from his mane as gently as if they had actual fingers that could get hurt if they got stuck.

“Either you’re good now, or daddy’s gonna stick a vibe egg right here,” he pushed at the base of the plug and finally slipped the rest of the last, grapefruit-sized bead in. “And then you’ll lie here and think long and hard about why it would have been better to let daddy stick to his plans instead of being a greedy, impatient little brat…”

Fizz let out a desperate keen, both from the absolutely delicious stretch and the excruciating thought of having to lie here with all of that silicone not only inside of him, but a vibrator making all of those beads judder and torturing his sensitive, hungry hole while it was still not getting fucked…

“So what’s it gonna be, baby?” Ozzie asked, his long, slippery fingers rubbing through his crack up to his tail and giving the sensitive bit of skin right below a firm, nearly punishing massage.

“Gonna be good, big daddy,” Fizz mewled, desperately gasping for air, unable to keep his ass from trying to wriggle away from Ozzie’s fingers on that oversensitive spot. That wriggling of course just made him feel the plug’s tip deep in his guts, punching another overwhelmed gasp out of him.

The touch below his tail stopped.

“That‘s my good Fizzy-frog,” he rumbled, then he leaned forward to nuzzle against Fizz’ cheek. His fingers rubbed up and down his cock twice, in a nearly soothing rhythm, before he finally gave his hip a squeeze and pulled away.

Fizz had thought he had been too hot earlier, but now that Ozzie’s body heat completely retreated, he felt suddenly very, very cold.

“Don‘t leave, Ozzie…” His voice came out weaker than before, hardly more than a whimper.

Ozzie immediately looked up from where he had been taking a blindfold out of the nightstand drawer. He dropped the blindfold on the bed and leaned over Fizzy again, cupping his face gently as he looked him in the eyes.

Fizz felt the cold retreat.

“I just need to be gone for a minute at most, baby,“ Ozzie said, and immediately the dread crept back into Fizz’ chest. It must have also crept onto his face, because Ozzie kissed his cheeks and his forehead and gently ran his hand over his hat. “How about I give you the bubble sheet? You can count the bubbles, and I’ll be back in no time.”

Fizz made a face. His discomfort was pushing him into a slightly different headspace, but at least that made him feel more mopey than, well… alone.

“Okay. Also the chewy-gag,” he said.

“Whatever my Fizzy-baby wants,“ Ozzie cooed, and Fizz was very proud of himself for not just answering that what he really wanted was for Ozzie to just fuck him. He knew that he’d be really glad that he had been patient later, because when Ozzie surprised him with something in the bedroom, it usually ended with Fizz getting both his mind and his back blown out in the most intense and devious way possible. But right now he felt like a mopey baby and he wanted Ozzie to be here, not somewhere that wasn’t here.

Ozzie cooed and kissed him for another few moments, then he got up to get the bubble sheet from Fizz’ fidget toy chest and the custom-made gag with the chewy mouth-bit from the same shelf the butt plug had come from. He sat back down and kissed his face a few more times, then he trailed more kisses down his chest, making Fizz feel all happy and soft again.

Suddenly Ozzie blew a raspberry on his belly and Fizz let out a yell and nearly propelled himself off the bed – which would have been a very dumb thing to do with that gigantic butt plug still inside of him. A good thing, then, that Ozzie was holding onto his legs at the same time so he couldn’t get away.

“Ozzie!!!” Fizz groused, but when he saw the grin on all three of Ozzie’s faces, he absolutely couldn’t be mad at him.

“That’s more like it,” Ozzie said, then he held the chewy pillow-shaped mouth part of the gag against his lips. “Say ah?”

Fizz rolled his eyes and did, indeed, say “Ah!” It was silly, but he did suddenly feel way better, as if he’d been slowly sinking into quicksand and that raspberry had been a cartoon kangaroo grabbing him and pulling him out in one powerful jump. He could still feel his heart beat in his ears when he closed his mouth around the gag and started to suck on it like an oversized binky.

Ozzie led the strap of the gag around behind Fizz’ head and secured it with the quick-release buckle on Fizz’ cheek. He pressed the bubble sheet into his hand, then he laid the padded leather eye-mask they used as blindfold on his face. Fizz could feel warm, large fingertips caress his cheek.

“You good, baby?” Ozzie asked.

Fizz buried his molars in the gag and nodded.

Ozzie gently lifted his head and fastened the velcro of the eye-mask. “See, I knew you could be good.” Fizz felt a kiss on his cheek, between the strap of the gag and the mask, then the fidget toy was put in his hand. A moment later, Ozzie’s weight vanished and his warmth retreated again.

Fizz kept gnawing on the chew toy and tried to map the bubble toy with one hand. He started to push bubbles in one by one, counting them while he did his best to slowly breath through his nose. The gag was making him drool, though it was better than with most ball gags. Fizz liked having gags in his mouth, more than Ozzie liked gagging him, actually (Ozzie generally preferred to hear any noises Fizz would gift him with), but he still had mixed feelings about the drooling. It was awesome when Ozzie’s dick was in his mouth, and drooling while he was getting fucked just added to the general feeling of debauchery, but when he was just waiting with a gag in his mouth, it sometimes did feel unpleasant, unattractive, helpless…

He could have used his hands to wipe the drool away. Ozzie hadn’t tied him down. But he didn’t want to touch the gag with his hands – that wasn’t his place, that was Ozzie’s privilege, the only part of him that got to touch the gag was his mouth. It was Ozzie’s job to clean him up. If Ozzie didn’t want him clean, Fizz wasn’t going to be clean.

That thought helped. Yes, the drool that was drying on his chin still felt unpleasant, but that was okay. Ozzie liked it when he got messy in bed. Ozzie liked the way Fizz looked when he lost control. It was alright. It was just like it was supposed to be.

He kept counting bubbles.

Just when he was finished with the second row, he heard Ozzie come back into the room. There was a noise like something heavy and metal was being put down, then some squeaking and grinding sounds.

The bed dipped, and Ozzie’s hand was back, opening the quick-release of Fizz’ gag.

“See, I’m back already. No time at all, right? Come on, spit that out, baby.”

Fizz opened his mouth wide so Ozzie could get the gag out without getting it caught on his sharp teeth. The blindfold didn’t come off, but Ozzie took the opportunity to push his thumb against Fizz’ tongue and caress his spit-slick cheek with his palm. Fizz sighed through his nose as he closed his lips around Ozzie’s finger and gave it a suckle. He tasted like metal.

He felt Ozzie bend over him, the fluff of his mane tickling his shoulders. Ozzie’s breath was on his face, a strange kind of silence hanging between them that he couldn’t read because he still couldn’t see shit, but then Ozzie pulled his thumb out of Fizz’ mouth and kissed him hard and deep.

Fizz let go of the bubble sheet and wrapped all of his limbs around Ozzie, his arms and legs looping twice around his body, his tail sliding up Ozzie’s arm and clinging to it like a climbing plant. All his apprehension melted in the heat of Ozzie’s body and he gave himself up to his mouth. For a moment he felt he might be able to liquify and seep into Ozzie, fuse with him like one of those creepy deep-sea fish, or like lichen on a tree, so he never had to be anywhere but right where Ozzie was.

Ozzie stood up without breaking the kiss and carried Fizz off the bed and in the direction of the bedroom window. He stopped after just two steps, though, and went down on his knees, as far as Fizz could tell just by feeling his movement.

“Retract,” he ordered, and Fizz immediately did. He completely let go of Ozzie, whose hands were securely cradling his body, and went limp as Ozzie turned him around. “Elbows and knees.”

Fizz let Ozzie put him down on something that felt like leather, very new leather, still a little stiff, but not uncomfortable, exactly the right size for his upper body. His metal limbs, which were hanging off the leather cushion or whatever it was, clinked against something that was also metal, maybe metal rods of some sort. He could feel them move, and then there were restraints, and he felt his limbs getting strapped against the rods. He tried to create a mental image of whatever device he was getting strapped into right now. It felt a lot like a normal spanking bench, though those usually didn’t let his crotch hang as freely as this one. And he’d also usually have his arms and legs bound to the legs of the bench itself, not these rods that were very much adjustable, as he soon figured out when the rods his legs were strapped to moved farther apart, forcing him to spread his thighs. The pressure of the plug inside of him was a little unpleasant now that he was lying on his belly, but it also pushed against his prostate way more insistently now. He squirmed while Ozzie did something that resulted in a few clicking sounds. His impatience was coming back, mixing with slight confusion and burning anticipation until he couldn’t help a pained little whine coming out of him.

There was a big hand on his back now, gently rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades. “Are you alright, Fizzy? I need you to stay in this position for a while.”

“Ozzie, please,” Fizz whimpered. He tried to grab that hand with his tail to pull it farther down. “I’ve been so good, can’t you just—“

“Fizz, focus” Ozzie”s voice stopped him. He sounded serious, commanding, hot enough for Fizz’ cock to start dripping again. “I need to know if you can hold this position.”

Fizz took a deep breath and tried to check in with himself. Everything felt so loose and fluffy, more like cotton candy than flesh and bones. He tried to start at the bottom and go up. His hips were alright, bis back too, but…

“Shoulders,” he said.

“Up or down?”

“Down please.”

He could hear Ozzie’s smile in his voice. “Well done, baby.”

The adjustable rods that his arms were strapped to moved a little, pulling his arms down just an inch or so and allowing his shoulders to relax properly. Ozzie’s hand was still between his shoulder blades, feeling for the tension that had been bothering Fizz.

“Better?”

Fizz nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy…” Ozzie’s large hand ran down his back, skimming the base of his tail. “Now that you’re all cozy and loose, let’s get this thing out of you, hm?” He gave the base of the beaded plug a little tug, but instead of just pulling it out right away, Fizz heard him squeeze some more lube onto his fingers, which he immediately started to massage into the skin of Fizz’ stretched rim. Once his skin was slippery enough for Ozzie’s taste, he slowly started to pull out the first bead.

The beaded plug wasn’t quite as bad as regular anal beads, where pulling them out one by one was half the fun of the whole exercise. But it was still intense to feel his hole stretch once again to let that largest bead slip out. The relief that washed over him when it popped out was short-lived, because Ozzie immediately slipped a wet finger into his hole to rub more lube into the tissue just inside of him. Of course he appreciated that Ozzie just really didn‘t want him to tear, but it also made something deep in his loins bubble up. Ozzie was always careful, sure, but if he was being this thorough, it usually meant that something big was coming. This was pre-fisting behavior.

His speculations were interrupted when Ozzie pulled out the next bead, added some more lube, and then went for the next two in quick succession. Fizz’ body was boiling again, his mind by now too sluggish and woozy from the brownies to really concentrate on anything but the beads slipping out of him one by one. The only thought that did make it all the way from his brain into his awareness — a recollection of that time Ozzie had stuffed him with eggs and a good half-gallon of lube and had him squeeze out every single one of them — wasn‘t exactly helpful either.

“There we go,” Ozzie said as the last few beads dropped out of Fizz’ hole without any resistance. Fizz was kind of curious just how big his gape was right now. Judging by the way Ozzie had to use three fingers for him to actually feel any stretch, it had to be massive.

“You have been so good, Froggie baby, so patient…” Ozzie rumbled as he fingered even more lube into his open, waiting hole. “Are you ready to get your reward?”

Fizz nodded frantically and pushed his ass backwards as far as he could with his thighs tied to the metal rods. “Daddy, please,” he whined, though it came out more slurry and wet this time than before. The fingers and the cool lube inside of him made him shiver, and he could feel himself sweat where his upper body was pressed against the leather cushion and drip where his stiff cock was just far enough from that cushion that he could’t hump against it. He felt trapped and hot and as if he was about to fucking explode, too strung-out on both Ozzie’s foreplay and the anticipation of what he was working towards to even continue begging. He was on the brink of something, hanging by a thread, and even though he knew Ozzie had him, would always have him, he didn‘t know how much longer he could hang on.

But Ozzie knew. Ozzie always knew.

There was the noise of more metal parts being adjusted, then something that felt like the tip of a dildo slipped into Fizz’s waiting, open hole.

Fizz was about to break down in tears because that STILL wasn’t Ozzie’s cock. How much longer was he going to do this to him? Hadn’t he said that he had been good, that he was going to get a reward, so why was he still—

But then he heard the flip of a switch and the dildo started to move deeper.

And deeper.

And deeper.

It moved at such a consistent, unwavering speed, not only going deeper but stretching his rim wider and wider, that Fizz nearly started to panic when it kept moving beyond the point the plug had penetrated inside of him and stretched him more than the biggest bead had before. For a second he forgot where he was and who he was and that Ozzie was right beside him and thought that this thing was going to keep moving, that it was going to rip through his guts and into his lungs and his heart and force its way through blood and gore to come out of his mouth as if he was a chicken being roasted on a stick, but then the forward movement stopped, and it started to slowly move back again.

But once again Fizz didn’t have time to feel relieved — because that dildo had some kind of soft barbs at its underside that had been flush with its length when it had pushed in, but which were now dragging against his colon walls and especially his prostate on their way out of him. Fizz’ head snapped up when he felt that, and his mouth dropped open on a silent whimper.

He heard Ozzie’s chuckle when the dildo stopped moving again, just deep enough inside of him for Fizz to still feel it. As the whole process started over, he felt Ozzie’s hand on his shoulder and then on the back of his head. He blinked into the dim light of their bedroom as Ozzie pulled off the eye mask.

Fizz wanted to say something. ‘You’re fucking killing me, Ozz’ maybe, or just a nice long string of ‘fuck’s, but the dildo came back faster this time and even though it did not actually push as far as his lungs, it still took his breath away. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a desperate keen like that of a dying animal when it pulled back again, also faster than before.

“You get why I needed you really, really relaxed, baby?” Ozzie cooed at him, cradling his jaw in one hand so he could push his chin up and see every tiny expression of his. His eyes looked like two thin slits of neon light in the deep blue of his face. The dildo started to move into him once more, again a little faster, but Fizz still had just enough of his mental capacity left to notice that Ozzie was breathing harder, too. A deep shiver ran through his body, a touch of lightning that warred with the expanding, boiling lust inside of him for just a second before the two merged. Ozzie was feeding off him, sharing his lust without any more of a touch than the finger under his chin. Fizz could see his hard cock from the corner of his eye and his mouth watered just before the dildo pulled back again and sent him into a new wave of ecstasy.

The movements of the dildo got faster and faster, and his mind was soon completely filled with the electric storm of an incredible fuck after thorough, torturous foreplay. But even as he started to moan and sob with every in- and out-movement, the scent of Ozzie’s arousal this close to him didn’t allow him to just completely let go.

“Ozzie,” he managed to push out around a low sob while the dildo’s soft barbs combed his insides, “fuck my — oh fuck!” He didn‘t manage to get all of it out, because the dildo was coming back and by now the thrusting was so fucking fast, just punching into him and pulling out, punching in, pulling out, faster and faster and faster…

There was no way he was going to be able to tell Ozzie what he wanted from him. So he just opened his mouth, let his tongue hang out and stared up at Ozzie through a veil of overwhelmed tears.

With his mouth open like this, Fizz couldn’t hold back any of the needy, wet, embarrassing noises or the dribbling of drool that the insistent, faster and faster thrusting of the fuck machine was forcing out of him. He was sobbing and grunting and squawking while he tried to hold eye-contact with Ozzie, who was still just watching him with an expression on his face as if he was looking at the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

He let out a deep, insistent whine, because words just were not an option anymore. He felt like he was about to come at any moment. The dildo was moving so fast that he could hardly tell whether it was thrusting in or pulling out at any given moment. He needed Ozzie’s cock in his mouth so badly that he felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get it right this minute — for real this time, not like earlier when he had thought he’d die if he wasn’t going to get fucked soon, because obviously he had survived that long enough.

“Alright, baby…” Ozzie pressed out. His voice sounded like he was out of breath, his hand was trembling as he grabbed Fizz’ jaw harder, and when he used his other hand to finally, finally feed his cock into Fizz waiting, open mouth, it seemed like he missed on accident when he smeared his leaking tip over Fizz’ cheek before he locked in on the target.

The fuck machine was pistoning the dildo in and out of him at such a speed that Fizz stopped being a body and just became scalding, liquid energy. Ozzie filled his head with his cock and his taste and his scent, Fizz’ face was buried in the fuzz of his big, hard body, unable to breathe but also absolutely unable to care about that.

He didn’t know when he started to come, but it had to have happened at some point between him turning into liquid and the world bursting into white and red fireworks.

It would have been too much to say that he “blacked out”, but he also wasn’t really conscious for the next however many minutes. He only realized that the fuck machine had stopped and that Ozzie had untied him when he was lifted up and cradled against Ozzie’s fluffy chest, and he had no idea when exactly they had left the bedroom, but they were definitely in the bathroom now. There was a glass being pushed against his lips, and he realised that the inside of his mouth tasted like Ozzie’s jizz, which was a taste he loved when it was fresh but which was as vile as anybody else’s fluids the morning after. He took a sip of water, but apparently his throat was still shot from swallowing Ozzie all the way down while he was pretty literally getting fucked out of his mind, and he immediately started choking.

“Careful, froggy!” Ozzie immediately put the glass down and bent Fizz forward over one of his hands while he tapped his back with the other one. Fizz coughed up a good amount of jizz and spit before he finally felt like he could breathe again, then he let Ozzie give him some more water. This time he bent his head forward immediately after taking the sip and just shook it back and forth to rinse his mouth, then he spit again.

He shook his head the next time Ozzie offered him the glass, then he let himself be scooped up again. He buried his face in Ozzie’s chest while Ozzie carried him into the shower and slipped another shower cap over his hat. The warm water made him even more sleepy, and he began to drift in and out of consciousness while big, warm hands cleaned his completely fucked-out body. There was another big, fluffy towel, and the next time he managed to push his way through the heavy blanket of exhaustion, an actual blanket was covering him, and Ozzie was in the process of joining him under that blanket. He adjusted the cover over the both of them before he pulled Fizz close to him. Cocooned in warmth and softness and Ozzie’s beloved scent, Fizz finally let himself slip down into sleep.