#please add a bat race

[vivlily]

Operator Cacophony

Arts Defender

Due to sensitivity to certain lights, common among Vesperti, she uses various Aegir chimes and bells, in conjunction with her astounding hearing to determine her surroundings.

Her dress was also created by an Aegir admirer of the arts and a fashion designer aboard Rhodes Island. Within this dress is where most of her chimes and bells are stored.

She is confirmed infected, with her arts taking the form of a sort of audio amplification, able to turn the slashing sound of her wings into a sharp bladed projectile, or turn the sound of her bells and chimes into a concussive force.

Her lack of stealth works to her benefit, since as with most Vesperti she is able to grow a winglike appendage from her arms, and through the combination of her auditory amplification she is able to create a defensive sound barrier due to the make up of her wings.

She is often found playing with many of the younger infected onboard Rhodes Island, acting as a sort of elder sibling. However often times among some of the more scientific inclined operators she seems to exhibit some amount of trepidation. This does not stop her from trying to befriend these operators.

Whether we find out what might be the source of those feelings or not will be up to time to tell.

For the time being though, if you ever see Cacophony a little turned around on the landship, be sure to point her in the right direction, these halls tend to be a tad bit too similar in structure.

This was day 15 bat and I'm using this spooktober list created by revilonilmah

also heres without any fancy things

[tonycries]

Men In Uniform F*ck Better!

Synopsis. You want him and you want him now. It doesn’t matter if you have to fúck him in his uniform - in fact, it just might make it better.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] professor! Gojo x Reader, yakuza boss! Sukuna x Reader, calligrapher! Geto x Reader, baker! Nanami x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, no curses! AU, oral (male + female receiving), men at work, manhandling, marking, slight gúnplay, degradation, smacking, choking, Sukuna is mean but he’s a yakuza boss so, spitting, semi-public, brat-taming, bunch of heinous stuff idek, cúmplay, slight foodplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.6k

A/N. Was gonna add Choso and Toji but this got too long, dw I’ll make separate ones about them later <3 

♡ NANAMI KENTO - The baker

Watching Nanami Kento at work could make even the most ardent non-believers worship God. 

Kneading. Spreading. Every motion of his strong hands deliberate and purposeful. Muscles rippling in his forearms with each movement. 

You watch - almost hypnotized - as the devilishly handsome baker at your favorite bakery prepares his dough for tomorrow. By God were you glad you managed to bat your lashes just enough to convince him to let you stay after closing - for educational purposes, of course. 

Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily as long fingers sink deep into the dough, squeezing. Pulling. Teasing. A delicate bead of sweat trickling down between his furrowed brows and disappearing enticingly between those chiseled collarbones. Oh, how you wished it was you under his hands instead.

“How long’s it gonna take? I see the way you’re watching me, y’know.” 

A low rumble breaks the silence, sending tremors down your spine - all the way to your already-heated cunt. Eyes snapping up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones, your face burns at being caught red-handed. Stammering out excuses, “W-wha- I didn’t-”

Soft dough now forgotten, he steps closer, presence overwhelming, dominating the space around you. “Always do. Watching me with such slutty eyes.” Low words that make your pussy throb. You’re dumbfounded by his eyes, intense and stripping - making you feel so exposed and vulnerable before him. 

In the dimly lit kitchen, the tension is palpable. You can’t help but lean into his presence, standing toe-to-toe with his muscled front. 

With a slight smirk curling his lips, Nanami leans in, his breath warm against your ear and making you shudder in anticipation. “But don’t worry, darling. I like it.” 

They’re the last words said before he pulls you into a searing kiss, a hand tight around your neck, neat fingernails digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer to him as his tongue demands entry, intertwining with yours. It’s possessive, it’s feral - and tastes oh so very sweet - just like his delicate pastries. 

Nanami breathes you in like a man starved. A desperation that carries into your frantic fingers untying that godforsaken apron. 

And in his steady hands as they lift you up as if you weigh nothing, fingers groping and kneading your ass as he seats you on the kitchen counter. The surface cold under where your skirt was messily bunched up. “Mm- hngh- please, Nanami.”

Pulling away with a final bite to your lower lip, he leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down your body that send chills racing through you, and have your thighs rubbing together for an ounce of friction. 

“Tch” Of course, he wasn’t a fan. Grip bruising, manhandling your legs open so shamefully, he splays you out deliciously for him. Nanami’s greedy gaze devours the sinful way your dripping cunt leaks through your thin panties - ones you wore especially for him.

Seems he knew too, pushing his glasses up contemplatively before dropping onto his knees with a fucked out oh. “Always knew you were naughty, darling, but to be such a slut? Driving me crazy, hm?” his voice thick with desire and whispered mere millimeters away from your swollen folds.

Moaning softly, you arch your back into the warm breath hitting your quivering cunt, whining out an embarrassed “Noo- only for you, Nanami.”

“Oh yeah?” Huffing out a dark chuckle, he all but rips off your soaked panties. The tattered fabric stark against the sterile floor. You gasp at the cold air that hits your heated cunt - but not for long, because Nanami’s hot mouth is on it like a man dying of thirst. 

Nose-deep in your pussy, the cold metal of his glasses makes you flinch in sensitivity. His hands spread your cunt bruisingly, letting his tongue bully it’s way past your folds, urgently lapping at your juices as if you were the sweetest damn thing he’s ever tasted. 

Chin hitting your cunt, nose rubbing against your pulsing clit, he makes out with your sloppy pussy in methodical, merciless movements of his tongue that have you keening and bucking your hips for more more more. 

Looking up at you over his glasses, his hungry gaze devours your half-lidded eyes, the grip searing on his hair, and the whimpers of his name leaving your swollen lips just as greedily as the mouth on your slutty cunt.

“Wanted this right, darling?” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Vibrations making slick bead out of your cunt and pool onto his waiting lips. “Wanted to break under my hands?”

“Yes. Yes, yes yes, s’all I’ve wanted.” teary whimpers leave your bruised lips, you craved the sting of his hands, the burn of his fingers. Your hips buck uncontrollably, grinding yourself against his mouth as he sucks your clit into his mouth. 

Hands now groping every inch of skin he could find, leaving pretty purple marks that remind you of his mouth-watering pies.

Exploring every curve and valley, bending you to his will, languid where his tongue was merciless. Savoring you. Groping your breasts, squeezing your ass, as if he wanted everything all at once.

Your entire body was sore now. Cunt throbbing in sympathy with the tender flesh. Marks littering your skin as if you’d been thrown to the wolves. Ah, all these weeks you’d been right - heaven really was in Nanami Kento’s hands. And right now you were putty in them. 

He grasped your thighs, squeezing them roughly and lifting them higher, opening you wider for his unforgiving pace. Clearly enjoying the way your face contorted in pain and pleasure, Kento slipped a finger inside you. One. Then two. Stretching you to your limits. Spreading open your already-stretched entrance further. 

His fingers frantic now, fucked-out, jerky movements. Wilder. Animalistic. Driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Open your mouth.” 

You listen - drunk on his tongue as yours lolls out so lewdly. The taste hits you before the realization - sweet sugar and the taste of you on your tongue as two thick fingers are shoved into your mouth. They reach the back of your throat, pressing hard onto your tongue. You force yourself to fight off the gagging as some animalistic part of you sucks desperately on them for the sweet, sweet taste. 

“Almost as sweet as you.” Nanami groans, words muffled into your cunt and sending white-hot pleasure racing up your spine. Words hanging in the air, he speeds up the movements of his mouth, frantic movements matching your need for more. 

Your climax hits you with a jolt, cumming till you see stars behind your eyes. Maybe it was his words, maybe it was the way his tongue quirked just right on your throbbing clit to make you throw your head back as you fell apart underneath him. 

“Hngh- Oh fuck, Nanami. M’cum- cumming!” you whine, grinding your cunt down impossibly harder on his pretty face. Fingers tangled in his silky blond locks as you force him deeper, riding out your high greedily.

You’re still dazed - vision blurry as Nanami pulls away from your cunt with a lewd squelch! getting up from his position kneeling on the floor. “So delicious on m’tongue, darling.”

Devastatingly handsome face flushed, breaths ragged, muscled front now pressing against your sinfully spread legs. And in your orgasm-hazed mind you still manage to hear the arousing clink of a belt unbuckling, and the metallic screech against marble of the nearby bowl of your favorite frosting being pulled closer. White - to match the precum dribbling down his leaking cock.

The distinct feeling of something wet and achingly hard against your needy cunt.

Oh. Ah, it really was a sweet, sweet life.

♡ GETO SUGURU - The calligrapher

You didn’t exactly think the live calligraphy show your friend dragged you to was about to have you on the edge of your seat.

But here you were. 

Eyes locked on the way the tall figure onstage, clad in a dark yukata - sinfully slipping off to reveal a milky, toned shoulder. Geto Suguru exudes an air of raw sexuality that the entire audience was aware of, eyes not being able to decide between the masterpiece on the canvas or the masterpiece of a man on stage.

His fingers, long and agile, effortlessly over the bamboo pen. Each stroke a sensual caress, dark eyes pools of desire that match his long, flowing locks, and the inky characters on the page. 

Chest heaving with passion, with a final, dramatic sweep of his arm, Geto completes the last stroke. And as the audience erupts into applause, you merely stay rooted to your seat, thighs pressing together and breath caught in your throat - only one thought ringing in your mind.

You just had to have him.

Which is why you found yourself following your friend to the chaotic atmosphere backstage. But despite the buzz of activity, you could still hear Geto’s deep, velvety voice carrying through the crowd.

Pushing through the sea of people, “Ah! Long time no see, Geto-san. This is my friend, she really enjoyed your performance tonight,” your friend introduced, gesturing towards you.

Eyes gleaming he turns to you, “Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, I enjoyed it very much.” you grin, batting your lashes. Relishing in the way Geto’s dark eyes appraise you from head to toe. Taking in every inch of you - and you do the same.

Geto’s eyes harden, as if deciding on something. “I’m flattered. Why don’t you two lovely ladies join me for some drinks with the crew?”

Yeah, you had to have him - you just didn’t think that would be so easy. 

Walls lined with paintings, the scent of ink and sin hung heavy in the air, as you two snuck away from the animated group downing celebratory shots. Geto’s hand hot in yours as he leads you down a dimly-lit corridor to “his favorite lil’ spot”, as he’d whispered to you. 

You could tell you were getting closer - because Geto promptly pulls you closer, hands grasping your waist possessively. 

“No turning back now, pretty girl.” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. 

“S’all I want, Suguru.” you mutter, desire coursing through you like a wildfire, pooling into something sticky and hot at your cunt. 

Perhaps seeing the pure, feral need in your eyes, Suguru murmurs, leaving no room for disagreement now, “Follow me.”

The room he led you to was heady with seductive candles, beautiful artwork lining the walls. His own - you assume, as Suguru leads you to a low wooden table in the center of the room. On it is a bottle of sake and two cups.

Movements fluid and precise, Suguru pours the sake, filling it to the brim. He hands it to you, eyes never leaving your face. “Drink up, pretty girl.” he hums, low and seductive. And honestly fuck stranger danger, how could you not when he looks at you like that?

So you drink, sake burning its way down your throat. Predatory eyes locked on you as you set down the cup, Suguru’s mouth quirks up into a sly grin around his as he asks, “Liked it?”

You’ve barely gotten out the nod - not trusting yourself to speak - before Suguru downs his shot abruptly, slamming down the cup with a thunk! 

Lips parting slightly, slender fingers squish your cheeks together into an almost-embarrasing pout. Forcing you to look up at him with an almost predatory grace as he looms closer. You don’t know if you should’ve expected the steady, warm stream of sake and saliva that hits your tongue. Sliding so obscenely down your throat. 

Guess Suguru Geto was filthy in bed where he was the embodiment of grace in public. 

It’s sweet on your tongue - both the sake and Suguru.

Eyes glassy, a mixture of sake and drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth - Suguru really can’t help the lips that come crashing down on yours, tongue plunging deep into your mouth. His tongue was relentless, keeping yours intertwined in a heady kiss. 

Arms wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to his heated body. Hands tugging on your hair, mapping your curves. All the way up to cup your breasts, thumbs running tight, little circles around your perked nipples.

You moan into the heated kiss as something rock-hard pokes your thigh. Hand greedily grabbing at his yukata with the need for more. 

Breaking the kiss, Suguru’s breaths come in ragged gasps. “On your knees, pretty girl.” 

And what Geto Suguru wants, Geto Suguru gets. 

Which is why you were sat, eyes hungry and greedily watching the way Suguru slowly, and deliberately peels open the front of his yukata, exposing his toned torso. A sly grin curling his lips at you gape at his leaking cock, standing proud and achingly hard. Thick and unforgiving. 

Fuck, could you really take him in your mouth? He was at least twice as big as anyone else you’ve been with before…

“Open.” he orders, voice low and commanding and making your cunt clench so deliciously in anticipation. Suguru’s flushed tip pokes your lips - glossy with sake and saliva - precum salty on your tongue. God, he was huge. Parting your mouth wider, lips stretching around his length you desperately try to fuck him into your mouth - eager to please.

But it just wasn’t enough.

Because Suguru has a searing grip on your hair, holding your head steady as he pushed his cock all the way down your throat. Delicate veins throbbing against the roof of your mouth as he starts up a steady, merciless pace fucking your mouth as if you were nothing but a fucktoy. 

“C’mon now, you said s’all you want. Better act like it, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly, pushing you impossibly further down so that your nose presses into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. Like delicate strokes of a fine art. Breathing in the heady, masculine scent so sinfully.

This man is a masterpiece, you think deliriously - completely cock-drunk as you gag around his length, eyes burning at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. Over and over. A ceaseless cadence you were losing your mind to. 

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, jus’ like that.” he hisses, as you tongue at his slit. Fingers deftly pressing around your neck to feel his dick ramming down your throat. 

The once-serene room rings with your pathetic, wet gurgles around Suguru’s cock and the smacking of skin on skin as his heavy balls hit your chin. “Take it, take it all.”

You moan, body arching as you claw at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Nails digging neat lines down his milky skin. Balls tightening, he thrusts animalistically into your mouth, each one deeper and harder than the last, cock sliding in and out of you brutally. 

Messy.

Saliva and precum drip down his length, dirtying his yukata. Tears streak down your cheeks onto Suguru’s wrist, fingers tightening ferally around your throat. Blood roaring in your ears, choking at both the throbbing cock and the hand blocking your airway.

 It was so fucking messy.

So it only made sense that Suguru’s orgasm was the same. 

With a guttural cry of your name, Suguru came in hot spurts of cum, shooting rope after rope down your ready throat as his cock pulsed and stuttered in your mouth. You felt so dirty, his seed pooling on your tongue. 

But he wasn’t done - no, far from it - pulling out from your abused mouth with a lewd pop! Twitching cock heavy on your face as he paints your face white. Hips bucking deliriously, a smug smirk playing on his lips at his masterpiece.

Face and mouth covered in his cum, fucked out enough that you basically had heart eyes looking at Suguru, you ready yourself to swallow it all. Needing to taste Suguru immediately.

Ah, but one can’t get everything they want.

Because Suguru drops to his knees, hand still tight around your throat as he captures your lips with his. Teeth clashing, lips bruising, forcing his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself. Tasting you. It was absolutely animalistic. 

A barely-lucid, disappointed whine leaves your swollen lips as he pulls away. Only to spit once. Twice. Three times on your face.

You flinch as wads of saliva and his cum hit your face, warm and dripping down your cheeks. Staining the pristine tatami mats below as they fall with a resounding tap! tap! tap!

And you gladly offer yourself up for the abuse. A fucked out smile spreading across your face as you take in the feeling of being so debauched by Suguru. Somewhat-delirious, you barely register the dark mutter against your ear, “Hope you’re not tapping out yet, pretty girl. I haven’t even gotten out my paintbrushes yet.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - The yakuza boss

“Strip.”

Standing in the dimly lit room, red-hot irritation flashes behind your eyes as you bristle at the words falling out of his mouth - devastatingly handsome had it not been for that smug, leering smirk. 

Eyes half-lidded, long legs spread on that gaudy armchair, smoke falling from Sukuna’s lips as he stares at you intently. Eyes piercing through yours over his cigar. Demanding compliance. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you rip your gaze from his, flitting panickedly between the imposing yakuza boss in front of you - all alluring tattoos, and heavy, gold rings - and the glinting pistol that lay silently on one, muscular thigh.

You can feel the heat of his gaze burning into your skin as your hands tremble, fumbling with those tedious buttons. Breathing heavy, nipples hardening - your top hits the floor. God, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into. 

Cursing your father’s debt, you move on to your pants. Desperately trying to avoid catching a glimpse of those blown-out pupils, something prickly and hot pooling in your stomach. Shit. You won’t start liking this - you refuse to start liking this. 

One by one, it falls away. Leaving you bare and completely exposed under Sukuna’s intense scrutiny. A low growl escapes his lips at the way your thighs clench together so sinfully, the sound sending shivers down your spine. 

“Come here, doll.” Low, raspy words that go straight to your cunt. But you steel yourself, heels clacking against the polished floor as you step closer. And closer. Watching the way he drinks in your naked form. 

But apparently too slow.

Before you can even react, a muscled arm reaches out, pulling you to fall into his waiting lap, straddling those toned hips. A jolt of electricity going through your body as you register the cold metal of the gun digging into your leg. 

Sukuna leans forward, the scent of tobacco and sin overwhelming your senses. “Dance f’me.”

Shit. How dare he talk to you this way - and how dare you let your pussy clench in anticipation at his demeaning tone.

Biting back a groan at the way your hardened nipples brush against his button-up, you tentatively roll your hips forward. A thrill going straight to your pussy as something long and thick presses against you. Involuntarily, you press closer, grinding against him. Hard.

Large, calloused hands find your ass. Squeezing roughly to pull you closer, rocking your hips back and forth on his throbbing erection. Back and forth back and forth back and-

Cool metal pressed against your skin - the barrel of his glinting gun pressed lightly against your forehead. Goosebumps erupt down your spine, painfully prickling at your skin as you realize just what the fuck he was doing. “As much as I love you humping me like a bitch in heat, doll. I asked you to dance f’me.” he murmurs, tone was positively dripping with something dark and dangerous.

Well, you think, gritting your teeth in determination. Might as well give the bastard what he asks for. 

Staring defiantly right into those darkened, intense eyes, you begin moving your body agonizingly slow. Hands tantalizingly tracing the outline of your body. Teasingly caressing the skin, sliding your fingers along your collarbone, down your rib cage, grazing your navel before slithering lower. Lower. 

Your soaked cunt forming a wet patch right on his straining erection. 

Sukuna’s eyes follow your every move - every circle of your hips down on his throbbing bulge. The corner of his mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he takes in the sight of you so sinful and shamefully exposed for him. 

The desire simmering beneath his composed exterior is basically palpable. 

And then, it snaps.

Suddenly, his arm snaps up, grabbing bruisingly at your waist. With a slow, deliberate motion, he takes a long drag of his cigar - blowing the smoke right in your face, the warm breath mingling with the heady air. 

Your surprised gasp is swallowed by his heated kiss, tongues wrestling as a hand digs into the tender skin of your neck. As if he owns you. 

Hips bucking wildly, and more frantically on Sukuna’s clothed cock - the expensive fabric of his pants now wet with your slick and his precum. You lose yourself in the moment.

But what you do register is the sharp unzipping of his pants. 

Snapping your eyes open, they meet with the large, leaking cock now pulsing in his hands, prominent veins glistening with precum that dribbles down his flushed head. Pulling away, you rip your gaze from his throbbing erection to look in his eyes - with what, fear? Anticipation? Both?

Sukuna lounges back on his armchair leisurely, relishing the way you watch - somewhat-awestruck - as his large hand begins moving in small, unhurried motions up and down his rock-hard length.

A harsh push of the barrel against your forehead snaps you out of your debauched reverie. “Didn’t tell ya to stop, did I, doll?” he hisses out, venomous and needy. 

The tension in the room is almost tangible, the air thick with lust and fear. As you watch the rhythmic jerks of Sukuna’s hand on his erect cock - up and down up and down up and- your body betrays you. 

Mind hazy with arousal, you place your hands on his shoulders, cunt clenching at the strong, defined muscle beneath your fingertips. You lean forward, lips meeting his in a desperate, desperate kiss. 

Pulling away, you reach for his heavy cock, wrapping your fingers around it, feeling it’s thickness and the heat. Sukuna lets out a low growl, eyes closing momentarily as you begin to stroke him in urgent, desperate tugs that have his hips bucking involuntarily.  

As you let him fuck your fist like his own personal fleshlight, you grind down against his thigh. Hard. His tight, twitching ball stimulating your clit just right as you get yourself off on Sukuna like a bitch in heat. 

Maybe it was the pure feral need in your hazy eyes - or maybe it was the way you lean your head into the gun pressing against your forehead - but Sukuna’s eyes widen, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. Only growing more amused by the second as you lean impossibly closer to take the cigar from his hand, placing it between your lips. 

Drawing deeply, inhaling the sweet, rich flavor of the tobacco. As you exhale, you deliberately blow the smoke into his face, the tendrils of vapor swirling around his beautiful features, mixing with the sweat and the scent of his cologne.

A deep bark of laughter makes Sukuna throw his head back - and you to clench around nothing on his lap. Hips becoming more and more animalistic against his. Your wrist now aching and wet with precum, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. 

Sukuna wraps his arm around you, pulling you close, his hand cupping your breast possessively. The other surges back with the gun on your forehead - where it had been faltering from pleasure before. “Make us come within the next five seconds before I blow your head off, doll.”

One.

Your fingers tighten around his cock, milking him. Movements from both ends become more and more filthy with the need to release.

Two.

You cup his heavy balls in your hands, clit catching on his zipper and making you mewl at the stimulation.

Three.

A thumb pressing down between his balls, hard. Hips stuttering with your impending release, losing your mind with each stroke.

Four.

Sukuna body goes rigid, choking on what sounds like your name, bottom lip catching between his teeth as he throws his head back and-

Five.

Cums all over your fist, thick, hot spurts of seed that paint your hands white. Splattering on your palm, and onto the chair below. You not too far behind as your body bows into his, stars behind your eyes as you chase peak after peak grinding down on his lap. You shudder, release taking everything out of you until it’s nothing more than mere tingles. 

A finger on the trigger. Pulling. 

Click! 

As Sukuna’s maniacal laughter rings in the heady room, you blink away the haze of your orgasm as you realizing with a jolt that there were no fucking bullets. 

Yet this bastard shot you anyway.

Skin heated against yours, lips ghosting your ear as Sukuna whispers. Low and gravelly. 

“I don’t need a gun to kill, doll.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - The professor

“You see, I really, really need this A to pass, sir.” you bat your lashes innocently, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. 

Short skirt hiking up as you lean over the desk in Professor Gojo’s stuffy office. Making sure that tight top you purposefully wore lets those striking blue eyes see a perfect view of your breasts - no bra today, of course. 

Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice. 

Success. 

Yet, Professor Gojo’s easy grin stays steadfast, “Well, maybe you should have studied harder then, hm?” You’d almost be fooled by his little act, yet your eyes catch the way he subtly crosses his legs, something stirring in those alluring cerulean eyes as he looks up at you through his lashes.

Deciding to play along, huffing as you cross your arms across your chest, “I did, maybe you should just let me take on an assignment for extra credit.”

His eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows raising in question, “What kind of assignment?”

You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk at the way he makes it so easy for you. Reaching out immediately to trace a thumb across his full lips, leaning down far enough that your tits were basically spilling out of your top now. 

“The one where you fuck me, right here. Right now, on this desk.”

You could feel his pulse quickening against your hand, voice strained with need. “I should fail you right now for this.”

Brushing your lips against his earlobe, you whisper, “But you won’t, sir.”

Before you can react, in one, fluid motion strong arms lift you off the desk to splay you out so sinfully on it. You almost get whiplash from his pure strength, brought back only by the feeling of his muscular thighs warm against your ass. 

“If you want that A, then prove how badly you need it.” 

Your heart races as you nod, cheeks flaring with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. With a feral grin, you spread your legs apart, toying with that soaked g-string - exposing your bare pussy. Beads of slick pooling underneath you on the desk as the way Gojo’s eyes harden as you clench around nothing. 

You trail your hands enticingly down, down down. A delicate finger swiping at your folds, collecting your juices - popping right into your mouth. A smug huff of laughter leaves you at the way Gojo’s mouth drops into a surprised oh!

“You’re such a lil’ fucking minx, princess.”

You needed him now. 

Rubbing your thumb over your swollen clit, index finger bullying its way into your snug cunt the way you wanted Gojo to. You gasp, arching your back as waves of pleasure, “Oh, sir! Mmm- feel s’good inside me. Want more- hah-”

Pornographic whines of pleasure send blood rushing straight to Gojo’s cock. He was losing his mind at your little show. He was going insane.

“Your turn now.” you mewl, 

Your hungry gaze was locked with Gojo’s as he stands, removing his belt and unbuckling his pants. Your eyes follow the movement greedily, mouth watering at the impressive size of his erection. Leaking tip furiously flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Delicate beads of precum smearing on the frantic, jerky movements of his fist up and down and up and down and-

It’s a silent staredown. Your fingers matching the delicious rhythm of his fist, urgently fucking yourselves to each other. Trying to see who would break first. Up and down up and down - in and out in and out. Faster. 

“Didn’t think you were all talk, sir.”

That’s what makes the great Gojo Satoru break. Surging forward in hasty steps, your hands pinned to the cold surface of the desk, pussy now quivering in loneliness. 

Smack!

“Count to five, then I’ll give what you want. If you can’t even do that then I don’t think you deserve an A, princess.”

“O-one.” You whine at the harsh hand that smacks your ass, large handprint stinging into your searing skin. 

“This the hand?” Gojo whispers, voice ragged. Inspecting your hands before his tongue sticks out to lick a long, languid stripe up your fingers, pooling your juices on his tongue. Pretty blue eyes rolling to the back of his head as he licks your fingers clean so filthily. 

Electricity courses through your veins as his long fingers deftly rip off your flimsy g-string, pocketing it safely in his work pants. You have half the mind to snark about it before you register Gojo’s throbbing cock flush against your pussy, leaking tip teasing in between your dripping folds leisurely. 

Your slick mixing with his precum, trailing down down down his glistening length, pooling on where he tightly gripped his base - splattering onto the hardwood office floor with a deafening tap! tap! tap! that matched the heartbeat in your ears. 

“Beg for it, princess.”

“Hmmm, no.”

Smack! Smack! 

“Ah! Three! Hah- please, sir.”

You didn’t even know exactly what you were begging for - but you got exactly what you wanted. Breath catching in your throat at the way Gojo pushed into you with a raspy grunt, cock hot and heavy against your fluttering walls. 

His sheer size makes you feel like you’ll split apart any second now, but oh how you desperately wanted to be broken by him. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Gojo began to thrust. Shallow, mindless strokes, each one just to drive his enormous cock deeper to fit into your snug, ravaged cunt. 

“Fuck me, please, sir. Need you feel me up insi-”

Smack! 

“...four.” you whisper, voice strained with need and frustration.

Ass sore, marks probably there for days. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as Gojo loses grip on his restraint - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. Sheathing himself inside your dripping heaven till his heavy balls smacked your clit, your ass flush against the neat tufts of white at his pelvis. 

Wasting no time, Gojo starts up at an uncontrollable, merciless pace, every inch of him being forced all the way into your snug pussy. Your walls suck him up greedily as his prominent veins throb and graze just right on all your sweet spots. 

“This what you wanted, princess?” he rasps out, pace unwavering. “This is what you wanted, right? To be fucked like the pretty little slut that you are, huh?”

“Yes! Yes, please, sir.”

Each ramming of his cock drives you further and further up the cold desk, a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each slam. Knees weakened by his relentless pounding, you didn’t know how you were gonna hold yourself up anymore-

Ah, but you didn’t have to. Gojo Satoru, ever the gentleman, wrapped a single, muscular arm under your hips, kneading the skin underneath his fingertips, fucking you deeper onto his cock as if you were his personal fucktoy.  

“Oh fuck! Hngh- sir, right there.” you yelp at the new angle, his furiously flushed tip kissing your cervix so painfully good, g-spot abused as he grazes it over and over. 

Smack!

“Ah, sir! Five-”

And then you’re cumming. Hips pushing back animalistically, fucking yourself through your high. Chasing peak after peak.

Boneless and exhausting, dripping cunt clamping down on him you mewl, “Fill me up inside, sir! Wanna feel it dripping down my legs.” At the sound of your voice, Gojo’s eyes rolled back, his features contorted in pure ecstasy as his cock twitches savagely inside you, finally letting himself release. Cum gushing out in thick, pulsating spurts.

Filling your abused pussy to the brim, coating your walls an obscene white. Gojo keeps fucking himself through it, milking even the last drops of his length on your cunt. Breaths ragged, hips animalistic, low murmurs of your name leaving his lips. 

And as his climax bates into nothing more but mere tingles, lust-hazed, tired ears catch the distant knocking from outside. Ah, right that appointment.

Blinking back the vision to his eyes, he looks down at you. All fucked-out, swollen lips pouty, and his cum dribbling enticingly down your thighs. Oh how he just wants to bite into you - or have half the mind to just send you out there like this to show all those college losers who you belong to. 

Or, he thinks, eyes twinkling as he looks down at the generously large space under his desk.

You catch his gaze, a dangerous glint in them as he maps every curve and dip of your body. Marked and so very obviously his. Your pretty lips falling into a soft oh! as you realize just what idea was forming behind those darkened blue eyes. 

“Come in.”

Before you know it, you’re shoved hastily under the desk, Gojo’s still-furiously flushed tip kissing your bruised lips as the door swings open. God, if every assignment was like this then you’d probably end up valedictorian…

A/N. Can’t believe this got me b@nned for like a hour bro pls.

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | Sukuna X You | CHAPTER INDEX I /PROLOGUE (Part 1-68)

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters (uraume, gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, choso, maki, nobara, mei-mei, etc.)

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

AKI’S NOTES: Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, and I actively respond to comments as well as Asks. Also, if you’re interested, I will include you in the tag list. Just message me through whatever avenue you’re most comfortable with. Happy reading!

MASTERLIST

A/N: Yup. Intrigue and a video right off the bat.

CHAPTERS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60

61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | CHAPTER INDEX II

ADDITIONAL NOTES: i will be using pics and other media which would fit situations and make the smau-ness of this piece a little more realistic and entertaining when i believe it’s appropriate/fitting to the plot (as i've done with my other smau). having said that, with regard to inclusivity, i just want to put it out there that they will not necessarily be aimed as the exact descriptions to fit a supposedly generic reader nor will they be representative of a specific race or color. it’s all for the simple fact of media availability, for funsies and the fact that i don’t exclusively write in consideration of those aspects when using reader-insert characters unless i specify it. thank you for understanding.

TAG LIST: CLOSED

PLEASE READ: If you wanna be included in the tag list, please make sure that your “Exclude __(tumblr username)__ from Tumblr search and recommendations” setting is OFF so I can actually tag you guys and you'll get notifs when I update. Thank you very much.

Here's a reference for the instructions from domainofmarie. Thank you very much, my friend. This is very helpful.

A/N: I have another version of this story somewhere on the internet with different characters, and I thought, why not make it a Sukuna smau. So excited for this! This'll probably come out this weekend lol or the next if push comes to shove.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240514]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[hyperactively-me]

break in, break down

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering. You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him. With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.

this has been sitting in my drafts for like, ever. it's not the best cause its super old, like months old and i lowkey forgot i even had it, but it'll do for now while i'm in this writing rut.

happy reading <3

warnings: home invasion, panic attack reaction (i think that's it? lmk if i missed anything please!)

A loud bang reverberates through your apartment, your peaceful sleep interrupted.

You open your eyes with a start, the volume of the sound causing your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

You're silent for another moment until the sound of glass shattering causes you to jump. You sit up now, dumbfounded for a brief moment before unshakable anxiety takes over.

There's no way this could be happening to you right now.

You immediately leap out of bed, grabbing a stray hoodie off the floor, slipping it over your thin pajamas. Next, you grab your phone with shaky hands, trembling from the adrenaline and anxiety coursing through your veins. The sounds from outside your bedroom are starting to get louder. You swipe your car keys from your drawer, shoving them into the pocket of your hoodie.

In a frenzy, you grope under your bed for a baseball bat, struggling to steady your shaking hands as you grip it tightly. The rattling of your doorknob nearly makes you pass out in fear. Simon had told you multiple times to keep your door locked when you sleep, stressing to you that it wasn't safe to leave it unlocked, especially at night.

There was no way you could escape through the hallway. Lucky for you, your apartment is on the first floor of the building, meaning that you would be able to safely jump out of your bedroom window without injuring yourself.

You place all your things down quickly, unlatching your window from its locks. You heave it open with all your might, grunting as you hold it up to lock it into an open position. Grabbing your baseball bat first, you throw it out the window and onto the grass below you. Could never be too safe.

Suddenly, the person or people on the other side of your door start kicking at it, the flimsy wood shaking from the impacts. You bite back a scream, prompting you to jump out of your window, dropping onto the grass below you clumsily.

You don't bother looking back as you sprint to your car in the adjacent parking lot, throwing yourself into the drivers seat unceremoniously.

Without another thought, you dial 911. Running on pure adrenaline, you tell the operator your address and the urgency of the situation. The kind voice on the other end tells you that the police are on their way before you hang up.

You bite back a sob as your shaking hands type in Simon's phone number. You hold your phone up to your, chewing your finger as it rings once, twice, and the line picks up.

"Hullo?" a scratchy, sleep-ridden voice on the other end of the line rings out. His accent sounds particularly thick.

"Simon," your voice breaks, the adrenaline now worn off, leaving you a wreck.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, now sounding more awake. You hear shuffling on the other end.

"I- I think my apartment got broken into," you sob, fat tears now freely falling down your cheeks. "I'm so scared," you cry, bawling like a baby.

Simon's voice takes on a sharp urgency. "'M coming over right now. Where are you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm in my car, in the parking lot," you say tearfully, trying to wipe the tears from your face unsuccessfully.

"I've already called 911; they're on the way—" you add, clutching onto your phone.

The sound of a door opening and slamming shut crackles through the phone. "Be there in ten. Stay on the line, love."

"I'm scared," you cry again, your free hand trembling as you reach to make sure your car door is locked.

"I know, love, I know. Just hang in there. 'M on my way," Simon reassures you, his voice gentle. The ten-minute wait feels like an eternity as you sit in your car, sniffling every so often as you look out your car windows to make sure no one is coming towards you.

Sirens wail in the distance, the police clearly arriving on scene. Despite the growing fear gnawing at you, Simon's voice provides a source of comfort.

"The police are almost here," you breath into the phone, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"Good, I'm here," he grunts. You look up and see his truck hurtling through the parking lot, stopping abruptly right behind your car. He slides out of his car, rushing to the drivers side of your car.

The moment he reaches your car, you throw open the door and practically fall into his arms. Simon holds you tight as you fall into him, sobs wracking your body.

"Don't cry," he soothes, pulling you tighter against him. "'S alright, 's handled."

He cradles you in his grasp, running his hand over your hair as you sob into his t-shirt, fists bunching up the fabric. You cling to him as if he's your lifeline, the scent of his t-shirt grounding you ever so slightly.

"I've got you," he murmurs, rubbing your back.

Your sobs gradually subside into quiet sniffles, and you take a deep breath.

The distant wailing of sirens grows closer, indicating the police are here. Simon releases you just enough to glance over his shoulder at the approaching vehicles. "The police are here," you whisper, your voice shaky but relieved.

The flashing lights of police cars illuminate the surroundings as officers approach. Simon steps back, maintaining a protective stance beside you.

Two police officers approach you and Simon, asking for details about the break-in. You pull at the hem of your hoodie, trying to cover up your practically bare thighs from your tiny pajamas. Simon settles his hand on your lower back, encouraging you to speak to the officers. You recount the events timidly, telling them as much as you know. After providing your statement, the police assure you they'll investigate your apartment, but advise you that it's not the best to stay there tonight. For obvious reasons.

Upon their insistence of you spending the night somewhere else, before you could even open your mouth, Simon is insisting, no, demanding that you stay with him for the night.

"You're stayin' with me tonight," he declares, voice firm and unwavering.

You open your mouth, nearly telling him no, I'll find a hotel, but the look he shoots you suggests that you go with him.

With a nod of agreement, Simon leads you away from the scene, his hand on your back firm and reassuring.

As you approach his truck, Simon opens the door for you. He helps you up into the passenger seat, making sure you're settled before closing the door with a determined thud. Simon then strides around to the driver's side, the scent of him lingering in the air as he gets in. The engine roars to life, and you find comfort in the steady hum of the engine.

The drive to Simon's place is mostly quiet. He occasionally glances at you, concern etched into his features. You stare out of the window, the events of the night replaying in your mind. You shiver in your seat, thinking about what could have happened if you hadn't escaped through your window. Simon's hand finds yours, a silent gesture that makes your heart ache with gratitude.

As you pull into Simon's driveway, you're met with the warm glow of his porch light. The familiar sight brings a new sense of relief. It's not the first time you've been to his quaint home. Simon turns off the engine, and without a word, he's at your side, opening the door for you again.

He leads you inside, the click of the door shutting behind you echoing in the quiet house. Simon heads to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets. Moments later, he appears with a mug of tea, a small but comforting gesture. He hands it to you, the warmth seeping into your cold hands.

"Drink this. It'll help calm your nerves," he says, his voice gentle.

You take a sip, the familiar taste of chamomile offering a small respite. Simon sits across from you, watching as you try to steady your trembling hands. The silence between you isn't uncomfortable; it's a shared understanding that words might not be enough to mend the damage that's been dealt.

After a while, Simon breaks the silence. "I'll make up the spare room for you. Take your time. We'll deal with everythin' in the morning."

He disappears down the hall, leaving you alone in the living room. You look around his living room, eyeing his front door for a brief moment. You finish the tea and set the mug on the coffee table, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

When you enter the spare room, you find it tidy and pretty bare. The scent of clean sheets and the comforting atmosphere of his home a stark difference from your own. You watch as he double checks the windows to make sure they're locked tight. He also shows you the lock on your own bedroom door.

"Everythin' is secure, 've triple checked it all," Simon states, turning from the window to look at you. His concern is evident in his eyes, and you nod in response.

"Thank you, Simon. I appreciate all of this," you say, your voice quiet.

He moves over to the wall, crouching down to plug a night light into the wall. He taps it a few times to make sure it works. When it flickers on, he grunts, satisfied. Pushing himself up to standing, he walks over to you.

He gives you a reassuring smile. "No need to thank me. 'S the least I can do. You get some rest. 'M right across the hall if you need anything."

With that, he leaves the room, gently closing the door behind him. You make sure to lock the door behind him as he leaves. You crawl into bed, pulling the covers over your weary body, exhaustion settling in.

You close your eyes, hoping that sleep will offer some reprieve. As you lay there, the events of the night replay in your mind. The fear, the vulnerability, and the violation of your home weigh heavily on you. Slight sounds make you jump in fear, and all of a sudden you start to breath heavily. You can't be in here, not alone.

You stumble out of the room, practically falling into the hallway. The dim glow of the nightlight casts long shadows, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Determined, you make your way to Simon's door and knock softly.

The door opens, and Simon appears, concern etched on his face. "Everythin' alright, love?"

You can barely form the words, your voice barely a whisper. "Can't stay in there alone."

Without hesitation, Simon opens the door wider, gesturing for you to enter. His room is dark, all lights off. You step inside his room, tugging your hoodie tighter around your body. You settle onto the edge of his bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to ward off the residual fear.

Simon shuts and locks the door behind him, plunging you both into darkness, save for the slight shine of the moon pouring through between a crack in his curtains.

Simon stands in front of you, looking down with a mix of empathy and concern in his eyes. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need. I don't mind."

"Thank you," you manage to say, the vulnerability in your voice more pronounced in the darkness of the room.

Simon hesitates for a moment before flicking on a small bedside lamp. The soft light casts a warm glow across the room, revealing a space that's both lived-in and comforting. You feel a bit more at ease.

He pulls a chair from his desk and sits across from you, leaving a respectful distance. The silence between you is filled with unspoken words, the weight of the night's events hanging in the air. Simon's gaze is unwavering, and you find solace in the fact that he understands what you need without the need for words.

As the minutes tick by, the atmosphere in the room becomes less tense. Simon breaks the silence, his voice a gentle murmur. "I don't want you to go through this alone. You deserve to feel safe, love."

You manage a weak smile, touched by his sincerity. "Thank you, Simon. You really don't have to be doing all of this for me--"

"Don't say that, I want to," he cuts you off gruffly, offended as if you would even suggest that you weren't worthy enough of his care.

His response hangs in the air, and you notice a flicker of something in Simon's eyes—a hint of frustration or something deeper. The unspoken tension lingers, causing you to shift slightly.

"I just... I don't want you to feel unsafe," Simon adds, his voice softer this time. He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, his gaze fixed on yours. "Or alone. Fuckin' hell, if you hadn't been able to get out of there..."

He stops, jaw ticking as he thinks. He can't even say it.

The room feels charged with unspoken emotions, and you sense a vulnerability in Simon that mirrors your own.

"Simon," you say softly, your voice a gentle reassurance, "I feel safe with you."

"I've... 've cared about you for a long time, maybe more than I should," Simon admits, his words hanging in the air like a fragile confession.

The vulnerability in his admission tugs at your heart, and you find yourself pushing yourself up off the edge of the bed, cupping his face in your hands.

"I've cared about you too," you confess, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted.

He looks up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of relief and adoration. Simon's hand reaches up to grasp your wrist lightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

"I never want you to feel unsafe or alone again. I can't stand the thought of somethin' happenin' t' you."

Your heart swells at the sincerity of his words, and you lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

The conversation lulls, and for a moment, it's just the two of you in the sanctuary of Simon's bedroom. The emotional exhaustion begins to take its toll, and your eyes grow heavy.

He stands from his chair, grasping your upper arms gently, leading you towards his bed once again. Before he sits you down, he looks at you expectantly.

"Is this what you want?"

"Yes," you nod, "I've never wanted anything more."

With your permission, he lays you down on his bed, following you into the bed with a contained eagerness. He drags you up until you're settled on a pillow. Simon slides into the mattress right next to you, pulling the covers up and over the both of you. You turn on your side to face him, eyes searching his face just before he turns off the lamp, plunging you both into darkness.

Simon's hand brushes against your forearm, seeking permission yet again. You scoot over until you're flush against him, cheeks heating up at the proximity. You feel Simon's warm presence beside you, his hand finding its place on your waist before he pulls you up against him, cuddling you. Simon's fingers trace patterns on your back, a soothing motion that pulls you deeper into relaxation.

"Get some rest. I'll be right here if you need anything, love," Simon whispers, playing with the ends of your hair.

"Thank you," you whisper into the darkness, your voice barely audible but carrying a depth of gratitude.

He tightens his grip on your waist, a silent affirmation that he's here for you, that you're not alone. The warmth of his touch and the gentle rise and fall of his breath provide a sense of security that eases the lingering tension in your body.

. . . 

The morning light begins to seep through the curtains, casting a soft glow in Simon's room. As you slowly awaken, the events of the previous night come back to you in fragments. You turn slightly to find Simon still asleep beside you, his features softened by the morning light. His arm is draped protectively over you, and a sense of peace settles in the room. For a moment, you simply revel in the quiet stillness, savoring the moment.

As Simon begins to stir, his eyes meet yours, and a sleepy smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Mornin’," he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. The air in the room feels different, more relaxed.

Simon props himself up on one elbow, his gaze searching yours. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I thought I would," you admit, a genuine warmth in your voice. "Still kinda freaked out that people broke in to my apartment, but better."

He nods thoughtfully. "We should probably get up, check in with the police," Simon suggests, but there's a reluctance in his eyes to let go of the warmth of the bed.

You cuddle against him once more, hugging him tightly. His arm comes to wrap around your back, hand splayed across your skin.

"Yeah, we should," you say, pulling away gently as you push yourself out of bed.

"We're goin' together," he tells you. "And I will be installing a new security system in your apartment."

You manage a small smile. "I don't think you understand how much I appreciate you for this."

He sighs as he leads you to his small kitchen. "You never have to thank me for anything, love."

Before you can retort, he turns to you. "Let's get some breakfast in ya. How do you like your eggs?"

[hxney-lemcn]

Lilia with 🪻💔💘!! it can be like about us going home but changing our mind or something, up to you !! ^_^

have a great day and thank you!!

(you can also add 😳 at the end)

a/n: I keep one upping myself. I feel like Lilia is so complicated so I had to write some extra exposition and it just got out of hand. Enjoy!

tw: none.

wc: 0.7k

2k follower event | master list

This was it, you had been waiting for this day for what felt like forever, so why did your heart feel so heavy? Crowley had somehow managed to find you a way home, and as you stood in front of the mirror, you found yourself hesitating. The stupid question you’ve been avoiding is biting you now. Did you actually want to go back? You had made so many friends and although your start was rocky (and the overblots were rough), at the end of the day you felt welcomed and at home. Taking a hesitant step forward, you felt yourself tense, was this truly what you wanted? Leaving behind all those you’ve grown to love? What about the people waiting for you back at home? What was home? This was all happening too quickly and you felt yourself close to panicking. 

“Wait,” The familiar timbre of Lilia’s voice rang out, halting your next step. Looking back, you felt your eyes water at his hesitant look, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say what he was going to say. “Don’t go…please.”  

You felt the dam break, tears falling down your cheeks. You rushed over to the bat fae, wrapping your arms around him. You had grown the closest to Lilia during your time in Twisted Wonderland, finding solace in a fellow old soul. You had felt awkward, being surrounded by people who were younger than you, the only exceptions being Leona and Lilia. At first Lilia had found you fun to scare, popping in and causing you to flinch, but he noticed how you seemed alienated for two reasons, your age and your lack of magic. So out of his kind heart, he decided to tease you by using slang that he barely understood, only knowing it was all the rage with kids these days. 

He found your scowl cute, pout adorable, and he nearly felt threatened for being the cutest. But it was those moments, late in the night when you’d open up and talk about how you felt, your home world, and your wishes. Those quiet times where you’d look at each other with fondness and a shared understanding. Lilia found himself realizing he was in it deep, especially when he slowly opened up to you about his past. Not about the harsh general, no, he wasn’t ready to share that, but about his time raising Malleus and Silver, sharing embarrassing childhood stories. Seeing your reactions to the silly things they went through in the past made his heart melt and his mind race. He wasn’t ready for another doomed romance. You were never going to stay, you weren’t a part of this world, so why did his heart have to choose you?  When your arms wrapped around him, tears falling onto his shoulder, he felt a flutter of hope. A selfish part of him wanted you to stay by his side, and he was letting you see the exposed, raw part of him that he tried to keep hidden. 

“I don’t know what to do,” You muttered solemnly, feeling just the tiniest bit of comfort in his arms.

Lilia pulled away just enough to look into your watery eyes, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his chest, “Whatever you choose, my heart will continue to beat for you.”

That seemed to make up your mind, after all, how could you leave the one you loved? 

Turning to Crowley who had been awkwardly watching the entire encounter, you told him, “I’m not going back.” “You’re not?” Both Crowley and Lilia asked in unison.

“Why would I?” You asked Lilia softly. “I have you.” Giggling in excitement, Lilia couldn’t hide his joy, picking you up and twirling you around. You laughed with him, clinging to him as he set you down. His ruby red eyes watched you fondly as you smiled brightly at him, puffy eyes now filled with mirth. 

“Are we about to kiss right now?” Lilia whispered, trying to smother his laughter, he was just so happy. 

“Are you serious?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think that even needs to be asked.”

And as your lips met in a loving, smiley mess of a kiss, you felt that you made the right choice.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 2 - let the world know

“I wish I could let the world know that it’s okay to let the pain show and even though times seem bad, it always rains before the rainbow.” -A Little More by Machine Gun Kelly

Dp x DC: Regent!Jazz AU Vigilante!Jazz AU

Prompt Masterlist

In traditional Fenton luck, shit goes sideways when Jazz wasn’t looking.

The Joker breaks out of Arkham.

Now, Jazz is fully aware of the Clown’s evil-ness and Danny’s trauma with all things Circus thanks to Freakshow has her hackles raised when the spirits of Gotham start screeching in her ear mid-patrol that “Joker is free!”

Like hell the guy would stay that way.

Lady Gotham is anxiously watching the Regent stomp towards Arkham, where the Mad Clown had yet to fully leave the premises into Gotham proper.

Would Jazz kill the Clown?

Many of the Unquiet Dead of Gotham are the staunchest supporters of kill, kill, kill on a good day, but with the Clown?

They seethed, they writhed, they thirsted for their vengeance and with every life taken by the Joker, the number grew.

Jazz hated the thought of death, ironically.

It’s one thing to rule the Dead and Never-born, but to add to the Realms' population by her own hand?

(It wouldn't be the first time.)

Well, Jasmine Nightingale would have to check her morals at the door, because when Lady Gotham begins to hesitantly (then vivaciously) root for you to “please end him, dear” one has to reconsider a few things about themselves.

For instance, how would she avoid becoming the next Joker? It was a hushed confession of the Lady that made Jazz hesitate at the border between Gotham and Arkham-

A dead man's switch would trigger a Joker Venom bomb, infecting those nearby.

Would the gas affect a Liminal?

True, Jazz was very much a living being (she often woke up in a cold sweat with a hand at her neck, heart beating against her fingers), but she was Death-claimed.

Was this how Danny felt as a Halfa? Weighing the living half vs the dead to see which would win out in a fight?

Not for the first time, Jazz found herself thankful that she was only Liminal.

Heart in her throat, Jazz considered her options.

It would be easy to just run him through with her ecto-sword, a gift from her once-mentor Pandora, but she would likely have to fight her way through bats and birds to both get to and away from the Clown.

Jazz could also just ask for aid from Lady Gotham and/or the Unquiet Dead to enshroud her from vigilant eyes as she absconds with Joker to Crime Alley.

(Jazz was sure Red Hood wouldn’t mind if she dropped a dead clown at his feet. He seemed the type to appreciate a job well done.)

(If her heart raced slightly in response to that thought, no it didn’t.)

Despite all her reservations about murder, killing the clown felt like an honor for the Regent.

(Blood had long since been on her hands.)

The morning would bring chaos as the people learned of the Joker's fate, Batman's failure to return him to Arkham, and how someone finally had enough of the black furry's inaction to stop the clown.

Sometimes, inaction is just as bad as action.

(A Fenton who learned that well.)

Jazz, in full Regent armor, mounted the Joker's head at the mouth of her alleyway, the same one that she used as a checkpoint between her apartment and the Park Row graveyard. A grotesque trophy that would be used as a symbol of the Regent's authority to avenge, of her willingness to cross the line of morality.

The Unquiet Dead who owed their demise to the Joker could now pass on and Jazz could call it a night.

That was, until whatever tomorrow brought around to spite the younger Fentons.

Typical.

=============================

[This was more of a short fic rather than the prompt I first started with, but it just came to me. I want to explore some things with events leading up to Danny and Jazz in Gotham, but I'm not sure. I need help to describe Jazz's armor because I have a general idea, but I'm not sure about the details. Ideas?]

[Hopefully I'll be able to put more Regent!Jazz than Vigilante!Jazz, but I also really like Jazz as one. Bet you can't guess the name I use for her as a vigilante!]

[theartsynebulawhodoodles]

My pinned post! ₊˚⊹ᰔ

𓏲𝄢 Nebula, Doodle, or Eilidh 𓏲𝄢 any pronouns except masc or it 𓏲𝄢 AroAce 𓏲𝄢 Demi-Girl 𓏲𝄢 Minor {Teenager and older than 13, will not state exact age however} 𓏲𝄢Self Shipper! 𓏲𝄢 Baby Bat𓏲𝄢

I use tone tags often! ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆⚰︎⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

I love ᥫ᭡ ->UTMV, Undertale AU’s, Sans AU’S, Undertale, Folklore, Mythology, Goth Subculture (I am a baby bat), Art, Writing, Oddities, etc!

ཐི❤︎ཋྀ my sonas: search my sona, sans sona, or self ship tag on my blog! {still can’t find out how to link posts lol}! ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

I, unfortunately, cannot donate. but I can spread the message.

The dividers and stamps I use aren’t mine! They either belong to sister Lucifer or other creators who don’t mind usage as long as you don’t claim it as your own and reblog or like the post!

⌞‼⌝ dni: pro ship and neutrals/supporters of it, nsfw or mdni accounts, bigotry (Racist, Homophobia, Sexism, transphobia, Ableism, terfs, anti furry, anti therian, etc), maps, zoos, loli-shota likers, zionists, radqueer, nazi, bullies, etc, just generally hateful people. I hope this list gives the idea of who I don’t want interacting with me.

I do not condone or support harassment, doxxing, etc.

☾⋆⁺ Everyone else is 100% okay to interact! All genders, races, sexualities, religions, etc are welcome!

Do not use my art for ai and please don’t trace my art, anything else is fine as long as I am credited ✶𓏲ּ꩜ .ᐟ

🍓 please don’t spam my inbox! I encourage asks, but don’t spam multiple messages in it in a singular moment please!🍓

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 do not sexualize any of my oc’s or my sona(s). do not involve them in any pro shipping things. I am heavily against pro shipping.

Please do not speak to me in a sexual manner if you are an adult or someone I don’t know personally!

I don’t mind affectionate nicknames as long as it’s not being creepy or anything like that!

🩵I would never purposely interact with any problematic or mdni blogs. It is always a accident if I do. Please let me know if I accidentally do so I can fix it!🩵

✏️Some of my artwork or writing may contain heavier themes. These will be properly warned and will never be romanticized.

ᢉ𐭩 I self ship myself with characters in affectionate bonds [Like close friendships!], doubles are 10000000% okay to interact as I don’t mind at all, yall are awesome!/srs

I am not comfortable stating things about my mental health publically much, but I feel it’s important to mention that I struggle with communicating with others and get anxious easily due to personal things. I am also very shy. But I love talking with people here!

( っ˶´ ˘ `)っ

I am completely comfortable with heavy themes and slightly suggestive things ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ

The letters in my signature aren’t initials^^

And that should be all! I will add anything if necessary! This is a safe space ^^ remember, you are loved! 🩵

[elodee]

HERMIT A DAY MAY - DAY 29

Hypnotizd x Gargoyles

For Hypno I chose the fantastic cartoon Gargoyles!

Hypno gives me cool 90s guy vibes and Gargoyles was my absolute favourite non-anime cartoon as a kid, so I had to include it! And, honestly, I just thought it'd be fun to draw Hypno as a gargoyle. I love the way he turned out.

To learn more about Gargoyles, one of the best cartoons ever, please continue below the cut!

@hermitadaymayrmit

(Congratulations on raising over $1000 for Gamers Outreach - lets keep going!)

The story of Gargoyles follows a group of warrior creatures called gargoyles who lived alongside and defended humans over 1000 years go. Despite acting as protectors, they were feared by humans and slaughtered in their sleep. The survivors of the massacre, a group of 5 men and their pet, were frozen in stone for eternity by a curse and doomed to never awaken again.

However, 1000 years in the future, an eccentric billionaire named Xanatos found a way to break the curse and brought the gargoyles back to life in modern Manhattan.

The story primarily follows the displaced gargoyles as they struggle to adjust to the shock of waking up in an unfamiliar future as the last members of their species.

While the show has plenty of action, as the gargoyles secretly protect the humans who live alongside them, the show is rather deep, often tackling nuanced issues like prejudice, mourning, and finding your identity in a culture that is not your own. Gargoyles also references a ton of mythology and literature and is arguably, in addition to the main plot with the gargoyles, an adaptation of multiple Shakespeare plays.

If you've never watched Gargoyles, I highly recommend it! It's one of the best serialized cartoons out there and I say that having also seen Avatar: the Last Airbender so you know I mean it.

Style references:

This is Goliath, the leader of the gargoyles and the a dual protagonist alongside his human love interest, Elisa Maza (who is one of my favourite female leads in anything ever). I would also like to add that Elisa is mixed race (Nigerian on her mother's side and indigenous, mostly Hopi, on her father's side) which was really unusual for a TV protagonist in the 90s. I just think that's cool, good job Gargoyles.

Goliath and Elisa - I just wanted to show you how cute they are with each other. Love is real and you can find it with this detective lady and her 1000 year old Scottish bat creature friend.

The Gargoyles title design.

[cobwebbedcat]

Slutweed 

MINORS DNI 

Warnings: top dom(ish) amab gn reader, sub bottom trans male Mammon, puppy play, piss!, weed/drug use, anal, daddy kink, light breeding kink, mams goes nonverbal for a hot sec 

Terms used for mammon: tits, chest, pussy, cunt, clit, reader talks about his womb 

"I have'ta pee."  

"Okay? Go then?" You're not sure what the big deal is, or why Mammon is sharing this information with you.  

If you were sober you’d catch the underlying attempt at an invitation that seeps through his tone, if you were sober you’d actually witness the way he batted his eyelashes at you while he said it. You’re not sober, but you’re not as far gone as he is. Just gone enough to be thoroughly entertained and entranced with Mammon’s hand. His brows furrow at your response.  

"Yeah okay,” he huffs, yanking his hand away from you and getting out of the bed. He hesitates, “s’not like I want you there, or anything, but if you wanna come,” he pauses for a definitive moment, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, “if you wanna come, you can.” Now that he’s better verbalized that he so obviously wants you to join him—despite his claims not to—you catch his drift. You’ll never give up the chance to watch him piss.  

"Cute," you hum, and hoist yourself out of the bed and take his hand in yours once again. The two of you walk to the bathroom connected to his room, and sooner than later he's standing in front of the toilet. He finally lets go of your hand in favor of shimmying out of his sweatpants. You watch, confusion slowly building as he kicks his pants fully off and stands in front of the toilet.  

"Aren't you going to sit?" You finally ask, and Mammon blinks before laughing. 

"Fuck. Forgot I don't have a dick," he explains. You bark out a laugh, and Mammon flushes, beginning to pout now that you’re laughing along with him. 

"I mean,” you recover your composure much quicker than you’d thought was possible for you right now, “there is a way for you to piss standing up.” 

Mammon squints at you, trying to figure out what you’re insinuating. You can practically hear him thinking; just when you’re about to tell him exactly what you mean, his eyes widen and he licks his lips.  

"Yeah," he breathes your name, "please, I wanna," and he doesn't even have to beg, but it sure does add to the warmth that’s been slowly growing in your loins ever since Mammon invited you to the bathroom with him.  

You lead a pantless, very excited Mammon back to his room, and take out the pee pad you have. Considering how things normally play out when he uses the pee pad, you pocket some lube for good measure.  

You set it up on the floor for him and Mammon's breathing quickens as he eagerly stands atop it.  

He worldlessly reaches out to hold your hand, and you let him take it.  

"Gonna pee here for me, little puppy?" You ask softly. Mammon whines at your words, again shifting from leg to leg, out of eagerness or a full bladder you can't tell.  

It only takes a moment and then he starts to relieve himself, completely wetting his inner thighs as a puddle forms beneath him. Mammon looks down, watching himself with glazed over eyes. Your cock twitches in your pants, your thoughts racing with imagining eating him out after this, or making him sit in his mess.  

Mammon eventually steps his legs open and reaches down with his free hand, spreading his pussy open so his stream flows uninterrupted onto the pad.  

Letting go of his hand, you step behind him, holding onto his hips and rubbing your cock against his ass as you watch over his shoulder. Mammon's legs shake a bit, and then he's grinding back against you as his stream dies down.  

“Want me to fuck you?” you ask softly, bringing your hands from his hips to his chest, squeezing his tits and rolling his slowly hardening nipples under your thumbs. 

“Yeah,” Mammon breathes, “in my ass.” 

"Seriously?" you ask, feeling your cock throb at his words. You know better to question him, it always makes him doubt himself.  

“No. Or I mean yeah, only if you wanna. Y’don’t have to,” he mumbles, “but if you wanted to, ‘m already clean.” You don't need to be told twice.  

“Shit puppy, I’ll fuck your ass.” 

Mammon practically falls to his hands and knees, at that. You know, at best, he’s actively turned on by the fact that he’s sitting in his own puddle of piss, at worst he is clearly unbothered by it. He raises his ass enticing—inviting you to touch him.  

You’re a bit clumsy with getting out of your pants, but who could blame you, with him looking so good in front of you. Settling between his legs, you keep the lube you’d grabbed earlier within reaching distance. You place your hands on Mammon’s ass and he whines, arching into your touch. Blood rushes to your cock; you feel lightheaded as you spread his cheeks and reveal his hole to you.  

“You-” you pause, letting a finger circle his hole. Cotton mouth is getting to you, and you audibly swallow before continuing. “You prepped yourself already?” 

“Lil’ bit, need more,” he hums softly, wiggling his hips. Despite feeling like your mouth is dry, you manage to gather a glob of saliva in your mouth and promptly spit it on his entrance.  

You won’t use your spit as lube, you do it just because it’s filthy, because you can, and because Mammon keens—high and long—when you rub your spit against and into his hole. You’re aching to be inside of him.  

“Fuck-- fuckin’ come on,” he begs, his voice cracking and straining with need. You spank him, quick and sharp; his back arches further as he melts into the pad.  

“Calm down pup” you chide, grabbing the lube nearby and coating your fingers in it. “Gonna have to muzzle you if you keep rushing me,” you think about that, gagging him with something, but you know you’ll want to hear whatever mindless babbles will fall from his lips once you start fucking him.  

Mammon doesn’t say anything, just moans when you ever-so-slowly sink your finger into his ass. It must be agonizing for him, to hold himself up on his hands and knees, to lay in his own piss, to be as wet as he is right now (thoroughly drenched), and to be opened up so carefully and slowly.  

You rub your finger against his insides, then press in another finger slowly. Mammon takes it like a champ, twitching and squeezing around your digits as he humps his hips back against your hand.  

“Greedy little thing,” you groan. Mammon giggles but it’s cut off when you curl your fingers.  

“Oh, ’m just,” he hiccups, “I need it daddy, I need ya, need your cock—shit!” He gasps when you take your free hand and spank his ass. His hole clenches like a vice around you. Your cock throbs.  

Your patience is running thin, but you make him wait just a bit longer, scissoring your fingers open, feeling him loosen up for you. 

“Gotta grab a condom,” you mutter, easing your fingers out of him ever so slowly. Mammon whines, but doesn’t protest more than that. He knows better.  

Standing on shaky legs, you stumble to the bedside table, grabbing a condom before making yourself comfortable once again behind him. u

Mammon’s busied himself by pressing his face into his mess, lazily licking at his piss, a hand between his legs slowly circling his fingers around his hard clit.  

You watch him for a moment, your cock leaking pre and twitching at the sight of him, while you try your best to open the condom with shaky, sticky fingers.  

Once you’ve got it on, you slick yourself with lube, and drape yourself over Mammon’s body.  

He pulls his head up, licking his lips, then mumbling something.  

“What was that, pup?” you ask, pressing the head of your cock against his hole. 

“Want ya—” he huffs, averting eye contact, “want ya t’mount me, daddy.” Involuntarily, your hips jerk forward, and your cockhead ruts against his hole.  

“God damn,” you hiss, taking yourself into your hand, “relax,” you say, unsure if it’s for yourself or Mammon to hear.   

Ever so slowly, you press yourself into him. He gasps and moans, shuddering from the intensity of the sensation and stretch.  

“Fuck, puppy,” you moan, feeling breathless and close already. “Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby. Feel so fucking good,” Mammon whines at your words, still playing with his clit. 

“Full,” you hear him mumble. You rock your hips, gently starting to fuck him into the pee pad. “Oh,” Mammon gasps.  

“Feelin’ good?” you ask, leaning over him to kiss his back tenderly.  

“Uh-uh huh,” you know him well enough to know he sounds close already. 

“Taking me so well,” you repeat yourself, because your brain is hazy with lust and weed and the beautiful man beneath you, and shit, he really does open up nicely for you. Still fucking his ass nice and slow, you bring one of your hands down to his pussy—bypassing his clit because Mammon’s fingers are preoccupied with it—and easily slip two fingers into his hole.  

“Fuck!” Mammon cries, trembling. 

“Feel me, baby?” you tease, rubbing your fingers against your own cock from within his insides. Mammon gushes and twitches violently around you.  

“Daddy--” he gurgles, trailing off and mumbling something incoherent. 

“It’s okay puppy, hah, you can cum if you want to.” Being the ever submissive demon that he is, it’s not until he’s granted permission that he does; crying out your name and coming completely undone under you. It takes everything in you to not fill the condom then and there. Instead, you ever so slowly fuck him through it, finding it difficult to move with just how tightly he clenches down on you.  

“God damn,” you groan again, easing yourself ever so slowly out of him once he slowly returns to himself. 

“Can I cum in your pussy, puppy?” you roll off the condom and toss it carelessly elsewhere.  

Mammon doesn’t respond with a verbal go ahead, but he raises his hips for you and whines pathetically, looking back at you with his red and dilated eyes giving you a pleading look.  

“Mhm, thank you pup,” you coo, pulling out your fingers and easing your cock raw into his cunt. Mammon groans, then lets out a pleased sigh. You know his masochistic self would have loved you to fuck his ass roughly, but you just can’t bring yourself to doing it just yet. Instead, you fuck his pussy hard and deep, selfishly chasing your orgasm.  

Mammon babbles under you, mostly unintelligible, but you pick up the stray moan of your name and “please.” You’re not any more composed, vocalizing every thought that enters your mind. 

“My puppy, hah, sweet thing, my—ah—my  sweet puppy, love you, feel so-oh good, puppy, gonna breed you pup, fuck,” he’s so hot and tight around you, the weed makes it hard to focus on what feels best, “gotta fill your womb with my cum, hah, you’ll take it all won’t you puppy?” He nods his head, which surprises you, because you can barely follow your own train of thought. “Fuck, that’s right, shit, gonna cum,” you warn. You feel dizzy, hot, and rabid, the sound of your hips slapping against Mammon’s skin echoes throughout the room as you pound him into the floor.  

“Mammon,” you gasp softly as you find your peak, burying your cock deep inside him and pumping your cum into him. He can’t speak at all now, just whines and keens softly, his overstimulated pussy spasming around your dick.  

You keep yourself lodged in him for a good minute, until you’re soft and your body aches. 

Mammon is thoroughly fucked and still stoned, so as soon as you’re not there to hold him up he slumps into the mess that’s been soaking into the pee pad.  

“C’mon baby, up we go,” you mumble softly, taking him into your arms. He lazily drapes his arms around you, sighing contently, and nuzzling into your touch.  

“Bath?”  

Mammon nods at the suggestion, so you rise to your feet and shakily make your way to the bathroom. You’ll deal with the mess later.  

“Hungry?” you check, setting him down in the tub as you fill it with water. Mammon shakes his head no. “You hurting at all?” He rolls his eyes at that. You pinch his thigh, “shut up, I know you’re the all powerful and great demon Mammon, but I get to ask anyways,” you pout. He smiles, his fangs poking against his teeth, before he pulls you in for a kiss.  

When you pull away his stomach growls. “Liar,” you tease, kissing him again quickly before rising to your feet. 

“No, no,” he gasps, holding onto you, “s’fine, don’t leave t’feed me.” You coo, entering the tub with him and rewarding your greedy man by smothering him with kisses and cuddles. You want to kick yourself for even imagining leaving him in this state. 

“Of course sweetheart, we’ll keep this short, then get something to eat, how’s that sound?” he nods at that, letting you wrap yourself around him.  

“I wanna eat, and I wanna watch a movie, and maybe fuck again,” he huffs, leaving no room for negotiation.  

“Yeah,” you laugh, kissing his skin, hoping to convey your endless love through such a mundane action, “yeah, we can do that puppy.”  

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Heyyyy I saw your requests are open. Can you do a cute fic or blurb whatever you prefer I don’t really know the difference 🥺. But can it be about Eddie having a corruption kink and he like the reader bc she looks innocent. But what he doesn’t know is that when he bends her over and spanks her , she enjoys it. You can add or take away stuff all up to you and if you are in the mood for it 💕 I love your work so much and would like to see something like this

-🌶️

So I got carried away and this ended up being a dom reader...how I have no idea! But I hope you enjoy it still and if you want I can totally write a more dom/rough Eddie! Just lmk!

Eddie always went after girls who seemed so different from him, girls who seemed so....innocent. At first, no one batted an eye but now they stop and stare when they see such a contrast between Eddie and his newest girlfriend.

You were a sweetie. You got excellent grades in school, were in after-school clubs, and were the perfect daughter. But there was something Eddie didn't know...well something that no one really knew. You don't have much control over your life, at least not as much as you would like. So when it comes to being in the bedroom you loved having the control and honestly, sometimes you got a bit intense.

Eddie knew none of this. You two were still kind of a new couple so there hadn't been much sexual things happening between the two of you but Eddie was dying to change that. In his head, you would be the perfect little sub for him and he just wanted to make sure you felt as good as he could make you feel. It was your Friday night date when he decided to make a move, and thank god he did because you needed him to finally try to make a move or you might have exploded.

The two of you were over at your house watching a movie when he leaned in and started leaving kisses along your neck. You slowly move your head back giving him more access when you feel his hand glaze across your inner thing. You bite back a moan as you realize what was going to happen soon. Instead of letting him take control you move to be straddling his waist making him smirk into your neck. "Fuck kitten what's gotten into you?" He asks as he starts to leave marks along your soft skin.

"Fuck need you Eddie please" You pleaded making his heart race, hearing you beg makes him believe that he was right about you being his perfect sub. He pulls you into his lap even more so and starts kissing more forcefully. You could feel him throb against your core and some sort of switch inside of you flips and you just needed to take control. You whimper against his lip and pulls away "Can we get undressed?" You ask meekly making Eddie smirk and nod "Of course princess" You smile as you work his tight jeans off of him. You strip slowly teasingly and nearly moan at the whines that leave Eddie.

You move back to sit in his lap and you rest on his knees before wrapping your hand around his cock, you could feel him throbbing in your hand. You brought your other hand down and began to fondle his balls a bit which caused his body to jolt beneath you and he inhaled sharply. You leaned down toward him as your hand continued to stroke him and your other continued to squeeze and fondle his balls and you kissed up to his right ear. "I'm gonna make you cum until there's nothing left in these balls. That's what you want isn't it baby?" you whispered to him. His eyes nearly rolled back at the sound of those words. "Fuck.. Yes, please..." he groaned. You continue working his cock slowly picking up the pace as his eyes close tightly and moans flow from his lips. "Baby baby baby I-I Fuuuckk" He groans and can't help but babble as he cums all over your hand. You kiss his neck softly and continue to jerk his cock until he is squirming more than before "Baby too much"

"Do you want to stop or do you want me to ride your cock?" You ask as you continue kissing his skin. He withers under you before nodding "Please fucking me" He begs softly, nearly embarrassed at how submission he feels. You guide his cock to your entrance and moan softly feeling him inch deeper and deeper into you.

As you stared down at him you nearly moan louder seeing how blissed out he looks. “That’s it, baby.” you praised, making him open his eyes to watch you closely. He watched you moaning when he sees how wet his cock was each time it slipped in and out of you and without warning you began to slam yourself down onto him, bouncing on his cock and tilting your head back as you let out louder moans and he whimpered softly already being so sensitive that the feeling of his cock slamming against your cervix was driving him wild.

He can feel you getting closer. You're getting tighter...wetter, god he was going to explode if you kept going. "B-baby please" he moans brokenly as he watches your hand travel down to your clit, your walls tightens around him ---practically suffocating him as you cry out his name and cum around his cock.

You lean down and bite at his ear before whispering him to cum deep in you "Fill my pussy baby give me all that you have."

His eyes roll back and he swears he blacked out as he came and when he comes back to you cleaning him up and already in his band shirt. You untie him and coo "Did such a good job baby, filled me so well" You kissed him softly, he groans hearing your words. "Wasn't too much was I?" He shook his head instantly "No no god baby it was amazing just I um I didn't expect it" He smiles up at you and pulls you close to him to snuggle into you.

Now it was your turn to blush making him laugh. How could she go from making me cum more than ever to blushing innocently again, he might never know.

[galaxicalsart]

boy I do love overcomplicating my little ponies

These are traits associated with the main races of ponies in Equestria (including bat ponies because I wanted to). Not every pony of any race will have all of these traits (especially unicorns, which have so freaking many traits to their name as is), though some are more common than others. The only really distinguishing traits are whether they have a horn, wings, or neither (or both).

(Well okay, I mostly imagine variation among unicorns, though as the races blend together over time there’s more overlap. Bat pony traits in particular are a bit more strict since they tend to isolate from most of pony society.)

aw damn I forgot to add that beards are also a unicorn trait that was more common in the past, kinda like the variation of the long tail

(Please don’t repost, but do reblog!)

[batsplat]

well bat you can’t just drop that you’re a signed up expert on the 2006 250 cc szn and not share WHY (unless you already have ofc…..I’m so sorry tumblr search is so ass) please divulge!! I see bb Jorge domination from the wiki 👀 also Aleix…Dovi…and Chaz Davies entered under like 5 different teams omfg what was going on w Casey’s bestie that year

JORGE DOVI TITLE FIGHT JORGE DOVI TITLE FIGHT omg, I'm like the #1 scholar of 2006-07 250cc era (admittedly another one of those fields where I'm not exactly getting a lot of competition on this website, guys please they're so funny). my short thesis for their 250cc vibe is here, where I described it as the huis clos of teenage motorcycle racing. which!! it is

also jorge categorically did NOT dominate that season, he scored only 17 more points than dovi!! but the thing is that jorge wins WAY more races than dovi does (the races dovi win are pretty cool, mind) - it's as close as it is because jorge is a bit less consistent and also tends to stink up the place in the wet. and then 2007 is a way more dominant season... still, broadly everyone's very impressed with dovi because the consensus is that dovi's honda is way way inferior to jorge's aprilia. see from the 2008 season preview (x):

MotoGP has received a welcome injection of young blood this year, and all of the rookies have been fast. The first question we hoped to see answered is the duel between Jorge Lorenzo and Andrea Dovizioso. Last year, Dovi managed to make Lorenzo's life very difficult, despite being on vastly inferior machinery. This year, the Italian is only on slightly inferior equipment, and will be hungry for revenge. Lorenzo, for his part, will want to make his mark on the series, and get a good finish to establish his place in the hierarchy, which he feels is really at the very pinnacle.

(this is also what sets up dovi being late noughties motogp forums' darling, like I cannot emphasise enough how much they LOVED that guy in 2008. plucky underdog syndrome)

it's a big dovi story point that him sticking with honda during 250cc is like,, a real act of loyalty. and initially it gets paid off when he gets the repsol honda ride in 2009, and then it gets rather less paid off when it all becomes a bit ugly in 2010-11 (more on that here). so it's not even that dovi's defeats during 250cc reflect BADLY on him.... but. but!! the joy of it is that these two SO clearly do not fuck with each other that the vibes are just consistently DREADFUL. in really fun ways!! you've obviously always got these great podium photos where one guy aggressively does not want to be there

generational vibes mismatch

it's also just so AWKWARD because dovi just doesn't really care to engage with jorge AT ALL and jorge is playing out all these sports movie narratives in his head where dovi is like,, his great teenage rival who he learns so much from fighting before joining the big leagues. dovi is not interested in being jorge's great teenage rival. and jorge is just so dramatically undersocialised that his attempts to sidle up to dovi and engage with him are consistently very funny to watch. cf something like sepang 2006... jorge is always trying so so hard. not always clear WHAT he's trying but he sure is trying

and 2007 adds another great twist with this, where jorge shows up with increasingly zany celebrations. so dovi's not only being beaten but he's also having to watch his title rival like,, show up in full gladiator kit. which is just. not dovi's vibe. regular reminder that jorge had a dovi mask made but unfortunately never used it:

as far as WE know, he still has that thing. anyway please just take a moment to picture dovi's reaction to jorge lorenzo showing up with a mask of his face. just let that image sit there for a moment in your mind's eye. appreciate it

what dovi had going for him those years was, a) the power of his contempt and distaste for jorge, and b) the ability to remind everyone of how underpowered his bike was. and both of those things were perfect to very much GET to jorge, like it genuinely would've been easier for him if dovi could've had the decency to openly despise him. he wants some feisty rivalries!! not dovi just staring at him like he's dirt on his shoe and then turning away omg. here's jorge about dovi in 2008 (from the longer post about the jorge/dovi feud):

'play the victim' godddd you can really picture dovi doing his factual neutral little just :) telling :) it :) like :) it :) is :) lines about how shit his bike is while jorge is having so many emotions he's going to explode. you get the sense jorge felt dovi was always looking down on him, like it's SUCH an unpleasant vibe... and jorge basically confirmed that's exactly what was going on when he said the following in 2018, during their teammate stint:

DURING MY WHOLE CAREER TRIED TO UNDERMINE MY MORALE likeeee this goes SO far back... jorge seeing dovi as this kind of condescending know-it-all who has always thought he's smarter than jorge... it's such a horrid little dynamic with two fundamentally clashing characters repeatedly trapped together, all of jorge's brash earnestness constantly colliding against the wall that is dovi's cold disinterest. funny in every single iteration, I'm so so glad they got to be title rivals for two years to consolidate their life-long loathing of each other. now THERE is a reconciliation that is not happening any time soon. anyway, if literally a single person is interested in more in-depth discussion of the 2006-07 250cc seasons and the actual races therein, lmk

[withered--s0uls]

I'm working on "Blood & Bats" and that includes surnames and characters races and Ethnical backgrounds.

Send me your Race & Ethnicity hcs as well as surname ideas for the MD characters please? (This includes side characters like Uzis class & Ron!! Please send those!!!)

Disclaimer: the story doesn't take place on earth. The generation of the parents & grandparents are moved to Copper-9 due to overpopulation. In this AU C-9 never had an exploded core and is still inhabited by organic life. This is for their families backgrounds from when they moved from earth & to add some details like cultural foods in the narrative

So far in the AU I settled on the following;

Doorman Family:

Uzi - Blasian (see parents for specifics, you can't talk me out of making her Blasian bc I love that common hc)

Nori - Filipino, Japanese

Khan - Black or Blasian, undecided (The name Khan is a Turko-Mongol surname [apparently not commonly used as first name], so I might have Turkish and/or Mongolian in there. But it's also commonly found in India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Bangladesh, and Iran. So I'm unsure what to go for)

Dolls Family stays Russian, needs a Surname

Elliott family:

Tessa, James & Louisa stay Australian

N & Cyn - British

V - Dutch

J - mixed, undecided

Teacher-Family (need Surname):

Thad - Filipino (Teachers Step Son)

Ron - Filipino (Thads maternal uncle)

Lizzy - either fully Filipino or mixed (Thad's half sister)

Teacher - either Filipino or smth else

???, deceased (Thad & Lizzys mom) - Filipino

Need help for pretty much anyone else and anything I listed needing help with here.

[fixfoxnox]

I FINALLY GOT MY GRUBBY LITTLE HANDS ON SOAP'S JOURNAL!!!

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, guys there is so much in this bad boy that NO ONE has mentioned!! The SoapRoach content in here is off the walls!! Why is all I ever see the like 2 moments Soap mentioned Ghost??? There so much Roach and Price and Gaz content here, so here are some random bits from Soap's journal:

MW:

Embarrassed that Price helped him up and caught him from the plane during Crew Expendable mission

Mentions needing to buy Price "a bottle" as a gift afterward

Upset he missed the first shot on the helicopter during Hunted, says it was "inexcusable, especially considering SAM'S shoot themselves"

Put into the infirmary by a dog bite, too embarrassed to tell Gaz or Price (only Nikolai knows)

Call's Price's mustache both a "dick-tickler" and "Price's precious whiskers"

Blames himself for Gaz, Griggs, and Price's deaths (he believes Price died on the high way) and tries to come up with other ways they could have moved through that would have let the men live

Get's stuck/angry over the image of Zhakaev's blood mixing with Gaz's on the bridge

Nik brought women to see him while he was recovering in Russia

Begins mentioning his struggles with pain killers like morphine and alcohol

He becomes almost obsessive with cleaning and caring for Price's pistol as a way to distract himself from becoming addicted

Tries horse racing and betting to cope, but eventually turns to smoking

MW2:

Soap is the one who sought out the formation of TF141, Shepherd merely backed the idea

Describes Roach as "Raw, skilled, loyal to a fault" (implied he and Ghost are absolutes for the team)

On the other end, Ghost gets a simple "what the hell kind of name is Ghost" and no other information akdndjdhjdhd

Roach has the highest score on the rifle test, a whole 18 points over Ghost

Ghost beats Roach on PFT, but only by 3 points

"Have been looking forward to breaking Roach in" during Kazakhstan

"Feel even more comfortable with him than Price must have with me" omg

Roach has a journal that Soap spots him writing in, he wonders what he's writing

Adds to the end wondering if Roach is "wondering what villa claras taste like" which is clearly a reference to Soap's own admiration of Price and wondering if Roach feels the same as that, but boy oh boy Soap was that a gay way to put it ajdjfjdbhd

Makarov weighs 184 pounds and is 5'11 I'm wheezing what a little wet rat of a man I love him

Mentions the death of Meat, so far one of the only deaths he hasn't blamed himself for

Mentions needing to trust Roach and his instinct more, essentially tells himself to cool it with the constant reminders and stuff

Plans to put Roach on circuits and crossfit because he wasn't fast enough lmao

Says he would have crashed the plane before leaving Roach on the rooftops in Brazil 🥺

Blames himself for Roach almost not making the jump to the plane

Says that Ghost "knows something about interrogation"

Mentions that the team didn't bat an eye to him torturing Rojas for information, Soap draws a comparison between himself torturing Rojas to Price torturing Al Asad.

He specifically has Roach handle the C4 after seeing how well he did with it during Kazakhstan

"Ghost hacked at a snails pace" LMAO REAL

"Funny thing watching Roach get taken down by Price" listen sir, give your boyfriend a break please

Very excited and cathartic for him to give Price his pistol back

Says that Price returning and taking over command was the "best demotion imaginable" 🥺

Was just happy following Price and Roach because he "got to listen to the two of them working together like we once did"

Says it was nice to see Price taking Roach under his wing

"For all that coaching, Roach did a shit job with the bodies" listen here sir...thats not a mechanic in the game give the boy a break akdndjjdhd

Knew that Price was up to some bullshit as soon as his comms went off

Kill shepherd: "For Ghost. Roach" 😭 throwing myself from a cliff

"Loyalty doesn't operate on a sliding scale. It's a safety. On or off."

MW3:

Nikolai and Yuri go way back, potentially from Nik's time as an ultranationalist?

Nik rescuing Soap again and Soap saying he owes him a pallet of Imperia for it akdjjdjd

"Knife would healing too slowly for tastes" baby....

Nikolai providing him with antibiotics and pain medication 😬 Soap describes them as "providing inspiration" which does not sound good

Mentions how the ultranationalists have become more violent then they were under Zhakaev

Soap lost friends during the terrorist attack in London

Final thoughts:

Omg my husband

He struggles a lot a lot with guilt from very early on

Put a shit ton of pressure on himself and blames himself for anything that goes wrong. Especially blames himself for the deaths of other characters.

Seems to have had a struggle/struggles with coping with that guilt. It appears to have manifested a bit in struggles with pain killers and alcohol that he manages through almost compulsively taking care of Price's pistol.

Attempts to cope through horse racing (and gambling?) But what ends up working is smoking.

Definitely had a lot of care for his team, particularly Roach seemed to get a lot of his attention.

Much closer to Nikolai then I think people realize. Nik saves his life numerous times and the two work together even with Price not around. Definitely helps to fill in some gaps on why Nik sticks around at the end of mw2

Looks up to Price so very much. Like stars in his eyes this man can do no wrong type of thing.

[pomplalamoose]

If you are ever down I would love your take on a Luke with a ND partner, maybe one who isn't expressive or picks up on social cues. says what ever comes to mind. Takes things a little too literally, is blunt in conversations. Like someone who struggles with their tone so people think they're bored or mean when they really have constantly racing thoughts and new ideas and are always open to new relationships.

I'm pretty sure it has never taken me this long to answer an ask before, but I wanted to make sure I'd put the same time and effort into yours as I did with every other one so far. Sadly I never seemed to get the free time to do so until now, so I REALLY want to thank you for your patience, anon, and hope you're happy with the result🩵

Please note though that for requests like these I'm only able to draw from my own experiences which possibly differ from those of others.

Accordingly nothing I said about "you" is meant to impose any kind of insinuations about behavioral patterns on those reading this, nor is it my intention to criticize or sound harsh in any way.

It goes without saying that Luke, as a friend as well as a partner, couldn't be any more wonderful to be around and I believe that especially for someone on the neurodivergent spectrum it's basically a dream come true to date him.

(Apart from that he's definitely that one friend who listens to you when you think nobody else does and waits for you when you need to stop to tie your shoe laces.)

He's empathetic and sensitive to the emotions of those surrounding him and thus would never make you feel like you don't belong, are weird for acting a certain way, or like you'd be better off pretending to be something you're not to "fit in".

And while Luke's connection to the Force certainly adds a lot to the fact that he has no trouble reading you, he would manage to just as well without it.

Still there's no denying how useful his abilities could prove themselves to be in a relationship, especially should his partner struggle with expressing themselves.

I won't go into much more detail though, because many of the things I already talked about in my other posts regarding his understanding and supportive character can be applied here as well.

(e.g. Master Luke Skywalker headcanons, Luke with a partner on their period, Luke x a reader with mental health issues, breaking down in front of Luke)

However I think it'd be really interesting to take a look at his initial reaction to getting to know a neurodivergent person with the behavioral features you described since I believe they differ depending on which Luke era we're talking about.

• ANH Luke wouldn't even bat an eye

• on Tatooine everyone has to put up a rough exterior in order to protect oneself

• it's not a place of friendly conversations and common niceties; people know they're better off minding their business and staying on their own

• you're very blunt and speak your mind?

• you seem unfazed, even bored during most encounters?

• good for you, it's not easy to navigate this corner of the galaxy and much safer to hold others at a distance

• growing up Luke came across a wild array of all kinds of beings too, one more interesting (and really scary) than the other

• he's not put off, instead even used to supposed unfriendliness

• also he doesn't know anything about where you're from and your people, maybe that's just the way they are and how you were raised?

• he probably thinks you're very cool too

• because surely you have seen a lot? Been on great adventures across the galaxy?

• he really wants to do the same

• if you come across as mean without meaning to it's not a big deal, it only makes him want to spend even more time with you

• ("if mean, then why friend-shaped??")

• most importantly ANH Luke judges a person more by their actions than their words, so there is absolutely no need to worry about how he may perceive you

• it's safe to say you're not getting rid of him as it's nearly impossible to shake him off once he decides he wants to be someone's friend

• he's more than delighted once you get to know each other better and it turns out his intuition was right!

• ESB Luke, on the other hand, may be a bit slower to come around

• not necessarily because he dislikes you but because he doesn't have the time nor the patience to put effort into really getting to know you

• people talk and so he probably heard a thing or two that has him eyeing you curiously

• most likely he won't pay you much mind as he's gone most of the time anyways

• generally speaking though, I think you'd get along pretty well, Luke is a friendly and open minded person after all and would surely grow fond of your quirks before even knowing about their source

• still there's a possibility of the two of you butting heads should it come to an actual meeting

• nothing really severe, of course, but still I can see Luke growing easily frustrated at, for example, your lack of expression, or at your questions when you don't quite get something and want to make sure you understood everything correctly

• and while he's not going to show it or tell you outright that he thinks you're a bit annoying, he's not that good at surpressing dramatic sighs or a roll of his eyes

• HOWEVER if you catch him off guard with blunt words said in a tone that could come across as mean it could definitely get a rise out of him

• after all we get to see that he has developed a certain attitude; he's snippy, quick to talk and slightly judgemental

• (mainly towards Han and Yoda but I can see him acting this way quite often because of all that he's being put through)

• I'm sure that under different circumstances Luke wouldn't react as strongly but with how things are during ESB he might hurt your feelings without meaning to

• once the dust settles and he has a quiet moment to himself he'll feel awful though and most likely seek you out to make amends

• naturally RotJ Luke is a different story altogether

• (the character development this man went trough is absolutely crazy, and I'm amazed every time I do comparisons like these)

• before even taking to you for the first time he'd regard you with a warmth and patience you seldom get to experience

• he quietly smiles to himself when he overhears you having a conversation in that special way of yours or when he senses something sparking an idea

• he appreciates your bluntness

• maybe at first you'd think he's laughing at you but don't worry, he just thinks you're cute

• he feels you in the Force, senses your excitement, your curiosity

• it draws him in

• he is able to see you as a whole, not just what you present on the outside, and so isn't deterred by what others would view as a potential attack or criticism

• (take notes ESB Luke)

• once you've grown closer he's always there to point out social clues you might have missed and/or walks you through certain situations to explain how your behavior might have looked to others when it's something you're worried about

• often he knows what you're going to say before you do and, if that's what you want, gives you a sign you agreed upon, letting you know if maybe it'd bet better for you to be silent instead

• (he absolutely explains dumb sexual jokes to you when you don't get them and I don't care how self indulgent this is, I could really use someone to do that for me, thank you very much)

[weenwrites]

Howdy Ween🤠! How goes it? Enjoying the warmer weather I hope! (Edit: Starting writing this in my notes a while ago so I am personally sick of the warm weather now but if you like it then I hope that you're enjoying it! ☀️

I was hoping to request something with a human who enjoys building explosives, doing experiments with different chemicals put into fire: whether they are really productive or not remains to be seen. They don't do it in the base or around the kids for safety so probably out in all that dessert somewhere. Maybe they talk about them or record them for show. When they hear about Wheeljack from Bulkhead & Miko they're excited to meet him but they're nervous of new people. But they still wanna show him there stuff ya know? Bonus points, if you also think it'd be funny and it fits if not you don't have to, if it makes so much of a ruckus since they probably wanna impress Wheeljack that Agent Fowler calls in his traditional Agent Fowler fashion? "PRIME! What is going on down there!?"

I would like the story format but is headcannons works better for you that's fine. If decide you wanna write this, thanks in advance Ween!

(P.S.-I know this is really wordy but I promise when I send in a request it's 50% the story I describe & 50% vibes. It doesn't have to be exactly how I described it😅.)

Summary - Wheeljack and Miko go check out some explosives. Characters - Wheeljack Content - Gen Category - Scenarios Trigger Warnings - None

✎ A/N: I don't mind it if requests are wordy! There's always a chance that what you include in fics may help me come up with more ideas on how to write it.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

They were expecting Miko to show up once the rest of the team were called to assist them with the explosives. It was to be expected after all, Miko without explosives and action wouldn't be like her at all. Though part of them was beyond ecstatic to hear a familiar revving engine and see what looked to be the italian-flag racing towards them in the distance—later turning out to be Wheeljack—they forced all that excitement behind a calm and friendly demeanor once he skidded to a halt in front of them.

”Wheeljack!“ They exclaimed as he reconfigured himself into his rootmode, ”and Miko, too!“ they add as the respective girl stepped out from behind him. ”Thanks for showing up, but there isn't anything for the two of you to do. The team's finished loading all those explosives down there in the quarry, and I just have to do a bit of work on my end to ensure that things run smoothly.”

“That's fine, we came here to watch the show anyway.“ She explained.

”By all means, go right ahead—actually, Miko I'll need you to put these on real quick," and quickly, she was passed a pair of earmuffs and goggles before Y/N turned to the bot next to her. "Ooh, I don't think I have any earmuffs or protective goggles that are your size, Wheeljack." They chuckled.

"Don't worry 'bout me," he flicked his hand, "I've handled my fair share of loud noises before."

"Oh, right, right… You're out on the field alot…" They mumble, taking a clipboard from the trunk of their car, "I'll be detonating the explosives soon, so you won't have to wait long."

With a nod, he placed a hand on his knee and bent lower to look at the crates of supplies off to the side. A few particular crates had caught his attention with the bright yellow warning labels pasted all over the sides.

"What's this over here?" He asked.

Without batting an eye, Y/N responded: "Nondescript explosive materials."

"Gee, really?" Wheeljack deadpanned, "Couldn't tell."

They lowered the board and sighed, "Sorry, I'd rather not tell what it is—not while Miko's around anyway,—“

“Hey!”

”—I could get into a lot of legal trouble if you guys went around making explosives and setting them off without an ATF permit." They pause, "Assuming you guys would rat me out to the police, anyway…"

"D'you really take us for those kinds of people?" He chuckled.

“Just you guys? Specifically? No. Fowler? Absolutely.”

"Could you at least show us how it works?" Miko offered.

With a sigh, Y/N reluctantly continued, "I… Guess it wouldn't hurt as long as you can't get your hands on the specific chemicals themselves—and as long as you don't rat me out, my permit's at stake here..."

"Our lips are sealed." Wheeljack offered, even miming a zipping motion across his mouth.

With a hum, they shuffled past Miko, and over towards Wheeljack beside the crates. And there, they began sifting through some of the bags of chemicals, each plastered with big blocks of small, black text that either detailed warnings or the bag's contents. Curiously, the two had peered over Y/N's shoulder to try and make heads or tails of what they were doing.

"I just need a little bit of this nondescript powder, and if I ignite this tiny speck right here…"

The powder gave a loud very audible pop, leaving a small, black, smoking speck on the cardboard.

"And that's how it's going to go. Except… On a much larger scale. There's about 30 pounds of this stuff all the waaaay over there, each of them in a little water gel sack capsule, spread out across the supposed entrance of the mine."

"30 pounds?" Wheeljack blinked, "doesn't seem like much, and the mine's entrance is pretty deep."

"To you it might not, but just you wait." They smirked, "Appearances can be deceiving… But the explosives aren’t meant to reach the energon in the mine, it’s just supposed to pave the way to the energon since we don't have access to any larger pieces of mining equipment."

"Oh right, you're just loosening the rubble, yeah?"

"Yeah, and then you and the rest of the team will move in to clear it out, and depending on how it looks from there, I may have to plant some more explosives."

"Ya know that some energon veins can be deep-rooted into the soil, so if this mine is as big as everybody makes it out to be, you might have to adjust how many explosives to use and deep they go."

"Ok, ok, I gotcha... Say, you wouldn't be interested in helping me with these explosives, would you?" They offer, "I could really use your expertise."

"Sure thing, don't see why not." he nodded.

"Great! Now, is everyone ready?"

"Yeah, fire in the hole!" Miko exclaimed.

Y/N nodded and with the simple click of a button, a ground-shaking boom had errupted from the quarry with a mushroom cloud sprouting into the sky to boot. Gradually, the quaking had ceased and as the cloud was barely beginning to clear, Y/N turned to the two with a haughty grin.

"Whatever you mixed up has a pretty impressive blast radius despite the quantity," Wheeljack whistled.

"Oh, the quantity has nothing to do with the explosion, it's actually the concentration of the material that affects the scale of the explosive itself." They explained. "A little goes a long way, as they say."

"I see, mind if I take a closer look? I think if I run out of explosive cores for my grenades, I bet could make something like this work…"

"Well, so long as Fowler won't be on my back for this, then no, I don't mind—it's called ANFO, it's packaged in water gel since it's soluble in water. It's not as sensitive as dynamite but—hey—please be careful!"

"Yeah, don't worry 'bout it chief… Now what's this ANFO stuff made from exactly…?“ Haphazardly, he shoved the lid off the crate, ”A bit of… What's this now?"

"I-I told you to be careful!" They screeched, "If the powder gets between your joints, the friction could cause it to ignite!”

“Right, right… Human things aren't that sturdy…”