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[randomnameless]

Why do the FEH devs insist on ignoring Nabatean lore so much?

I recently had a surprisingly cordial discussion on redshit with someone about the "nabateans = colonisers" take, and one of the main points raised was that the game was purposedly foggy around Nabateans/Sothis/their story because it would obviously favor a certain narrative (and thus make another narrative look, uh, not that marketable anymore).

To be honest, we still ended up with a product that had a lead go "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and yet that lead is still marketable enough to have raunchy cipher cards and 5 FEH alts, so I actually wonder if, while pissing on that lore had that purpose, it was ultimately pointless since Supreme Leader can still sell goodies despite her incarnation in FE16.

And not only Supreme Leader - but the entirety of WC where we basically have 70% of the cast crying/complaining about their "mixed blood" or lack of and basically adding their 10 cents to the "this race and its blood is the reason why the world sucks".

I mean, can you imagine Sylvain selling any goodies and alts if Flayn replied to his "wah wah people only are kind to me and want to fuck me because I have Nabatean blood :(" by some uncharacteristic "good for you, I have to hide my ears, had to dye my hair, have to lie about my family because if the truth is found out about my identity, I will be hunted and vivisected like an animal and harvested for parts by people who call my kin abominations - just like what happens in the game where the same people who call my kin "abominations" ally with a classmate who calls me a creature and pretends I am incapable of human feelings based on my race".

FE Fodlan's main selling point is its cast of students, for various reasons, but even if I tried to kid myself, Nopes and FEH made it clears : students are the main selling point.

If you spare more time and attention to the Nabatean plot/lore, the students either grow from "likeable" to "despicable" or worse, you won't gaf about them because yeah sure, Hilda might be upset because people expect things from her due to her crust, but it would feel like a "peanut" compared to Seteth's irrational (granted, it's not so irrational since GW exists) fear that Flayn's newest friends would dissect her if they learnt she was a Nabatean, and being conflicted by finally letting her have human friends and form bonds she crave, or protect her due to the trauma from the genocide of their species.

Don't get me wrong, I love peanuts, I mean, not everyone can have a tragik of loaded backstory!

And yet, given how this verse's DNA is "can you fight against the red emperor who uwus about you", they had to add copious amounts of Earl Grey to their games so there's no clear-cut factions :

The "Your alien blood and its influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command" vs "I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

is turned to :

"Your alien blood Crests and its your church's influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command"

"I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

Sprinkle with the cast's hammering here and there that the "reforms" might be needed - but never develop on what they are - and add a few baseless and groundless takes as a toping (basically everything Claude says about tolerance and the general "isolationism/foreign policy" stuff) and you get FE Fodlan where the Red Emperor's war isn't seen as the catastrophe it is in the other entries from the series!

Now, for FEH...

FWIW, the F!F!Billy's trailer had them try to explain that Sothis was a bit pissed about her slaughtered/massacred children when Nopes never gave any reason about why she was pissed - maybe on Billy's behalf bcs Jerry's dead, but come on, she would indeed deserve the medal of the worst parent in the franchise if that was the case, since Billy can murder her daughter without Sothis taking over ! - but given that they cannot write/go against the source game those characters are from.

They tried a bit, with B!Supreme Leader and Hegemongard's FB, but then it stopped (because she had no "new unit" released since then lol) and I can understand why : Hegemongard came out before the Supreme Emblem, and Hegemongard hates dragons who are seen/perceived as gods by some of their human followers. Come FE17, and now Supreme Emblem accepts Alear because they are "one of the good ones". We can come up with HCs and details and talk about what are emblems or if Hegemongard's views were only hers at the end of AM all day long... But imo, Doylist wise, it still feels it's a retcon because the devs from the main games tried to scrap and remove the most "controversial" traits she had.

For the other characters... Well, you see what Marianne is in FEH (but even in her base games), she's one of the few characters who reacts - in a way - to the partial history about relics and demonic beasts and all... only to give sad uwus to Maurice.

FE16 (and Nopes) refused to have any "student" character react to the Nabatean lore/reveal, about what are relics and all. There are no lines, Claude shared some knowledge in the explore section of VW's last chapter, but we don't have anyone muse or think or even talk about what are relics, what are crests, and what kind of fuckery their ancestors or the ancient humans of Fodlan did.

With that in mind, FEH can't do much : either they write Marianne in a retcon-y way like what happened for Hegemongard (and they're not afraid to piss on characterisation, look at Lyon!), or they flanderise her "character" and develop her around 3 lines she had in the game in her paralogue, and continue to give sad uwus about Momo when he was at best a guy who slaughtered and murdered so much that he abused the Nabatean turned into a relic to the point where he turned in a demonic beast even if he had a matching crest, or at worst, had been part of Nemesis's piñata party in Zanado and was something of a genocider.

Tldr :

Why FE Fodlan never gaf about Nabateans : earl grey + the marketable cast has to stay marketable and you can't sell peanuts at the same price you'd sell swordfish

Why FEH dgaf about Nabatean lore : they can't afford to retcon characters + they have to sell peanut alts with the same seasoning they had in their base game.

For what it's worth though, I think FEH is more daring than the base game(s) given how they gave more lines and screentime to Rhea - through her different alts - than GW. And they even designed her Halloween!alt's lines to piss on some of Claude's assertions, while the various FB involving members of the church also - indirectly - reply to some accusations thrown their way in FE16 when, FE16, never gave them an opportunity or lines to explain that those takes were full of dung.

*"but random, maybe she doesn't know that the crests she often decries is "dragon blood"!"

It's highly debatable, especially given what she and Hubert throw to Billy in CF - but even if she doesn't, Doylist wise we still have a character who, knowingly or not, says "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and who is never called out on her prejudice. That's more of an issue regarding the general writing though, she has to be a red emperor and took pages from Ashnard's book, and yet, the player must still feel bad and want to romance her, so her mindest/goal cannot be looked at too closely, because, I guess, even the devs thought it would be difficult to romance her (thus sell goodies!) if more light was shed on the "blood from this race corrupts our people" schtick -> which in turn would also make characters whose backstory and gimmick rely on "crying about crests" be way less likeable, thus marketable and able to sell goodies.

[beesorcery]

hello it's part 3 of 3 for my cool fun graphic design adventure!! part 1 and part 2 got too long. to recap i am recreating this t-shirt design but with the magic 8 ball songs instead of city names:

here is the current draft, updated through 3/27 (pittsburgh) (!!!!)

[rafesangelita]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ rafe and kook!sweetheart!reader scrapbooking together

warnings: grumpy x sunshine lol, fluff, suggestive language (?), suggestive ending

as much as rafe pretended to hate ‘scrapbook saturday’ he was always the one choosing which pictures of you guys to print out, and even going as far as buying extra supplies without you having to ask him. “oh my god, this is so cute!” you’d be shuffling through the plastic bag from the craft store while rafe shrugged nonchalantly. “yeah, i just grabbed whatever.” he’d lie, as if he didn’t handpick everything with your theme and color pattern in mind.

once you two had everything laid out on the table, rafe would have you in his lap while he was on hot glue gun duty since he refused to let you touch it. “m’not gonna have you burnin’ yourself.” he grumbled while gluing on ribbons and flowers. “yes, sir.” you replied, making him stare at you for a second. a smile made it’s way to your lips as he shook his head. “you know what you’re doing.” he swallowed thickly at the name. you only called him that when you wanted to rile him up.

“really? i don’t think so..” you acted clueless before grabbing a bag of rhinestones. “oooh, what should we do with these?” by the end of the evening, you two would be flipping through your masterpiece, each page painfully obvious as to who’s was whose. while your pages were lined with lace and ribbon, neat picture placement, stickers and other accessories overlapping eachother into an organized mess, rafe’s looked like he just threw everything together and called it a day.

“it’s gorgeous!” you squealed, your display of happiness always making rafe’s heart melt. that’s what all of this was about for him. he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin in the crook of your neck as you ran your fingers over the soft material. “thank you.” you whispered. you knew rafe could easily be one of those boyfriends who lets you do things by yourself, but to no avail, he never left you hanging. “can i suggest something now?” his breath fanned against your skin as you hummed.

rafe’s suggestions always ended up with you either underneath him, or kneeled between his thighs..

[coryosbaby]

Mascara || T. Riddle

Fandom: ‘Harry Potter’

Pairing: Young! Tom Riddle x fem! Ravenclaw! Reader

｡.｡ ♡ Content warning . Public sex, praise & degradation, cum play, sub! Reader, dom! Tom

Notes: set in modern day Hogwarts. I never thought i’d want to fuck Voldemort but here we are.

Your feet patter softly against the tile floors of Hogwarts, a book clutched tightly in your arms as you make your way towards the school’s library. It’s a rainy night, incredibly quiet and empty. The other students are at dinner, and you’ve decided to skip out to study for your OWLs. When you open the big wooden doors to the library, the smell of printed ink and old pages invites you further in.

The first thing you notice, when you close the doors behind you and take sight of the room, is that the librarian, Madam Pince, is no where to be found. She must be on her break.

The second thing you notice is the boy sitting in the darkest corner of the room.

You know of the familiar brunette— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Tom Riddle is a popular slytherin well known for his cunningness, his intelligence, his ability to speak native tongues— and sometimes, his temper. A ravenclaw yourself, you try to steer clear of him. Slytherins usually don’t take politely to anyone outside of their house. Not to mention the fact that you scored the top of your class, with him coming in close second. You suspect that he hates you for that.

He catches your gaze, brown eyes with the resemblance of a serpent. He looks back down at his book, seeming bored.

You let out a breath of air.

You slide your book into the return bin, timidly moving to the shelf about Potions. Snape has been really hassling you lately on your grades, and you really need to turn your B+ into a perfect A. Your fingertips skim over the leathered binds, reading title after title. A voice behind you makes you jump.

“If you’re studying for Snape’s final, I’d recommend ‘Advanced Potion Making’. It will tell you all you need to know.”

His voice is an angelic lilt, though you know that is not in any way what he resembles. The fact that he’s helping you stumps you into utter confusion, and heat creeps up your neck. You nod to him as you begin searching for the book.

To no avail. Your eyes search every bind, every word, but your focus has been diluted because of Tom speaking to you. He sighs, almost annoyed.

He appears beside you, much to your surprise. You nervously bite your lip as he finds the exact book he recommended and pushes it into your hands.

“Chapter nine. I would’ve thought a girl of your ranking in our class would know this already.”

Your brows furrow, embarrassment coursing through you as he sits back down and resumes his tasks. You nervously fumble with the book.

“Thank you.” You reply, because you had been taught proper manners. He scoffs, flicking through the pages of his book. You can’t read the title, though the cover is quite off put ish and dark. Perhaps he had snuck into the restricted section.

“Don’t.”

You frown, though your mind is peaking with curiosity. He seems rude, but he was trying to help you. Maybe there’s something nice under there, after all. Your body is stiff as you sit across from him at the table, silently pleading to God that the boy across from you won’t put a nasty hex on you.

“You don’t have to be rude, you know.”

It slips out of your lips, quiet and unsure. Tom’s eyes narrow at you.

“And as well as that, you don’t have to sit across from me.”

“Perhaps I want to. Perhaps you need a friend.”

“A friend?” He chuckles dryly, his gaze travelling down to your robes. You try to ignore the heat creeping between your legs. “We aren’t going to be friends.”

His insinuation is thick, dangerous. Your heart pounds out of your chest at this unexpected turn of your study hour. You gulp, looking down at the pages.

“Very well then. But since I’ve already sat down, I might as well continue my book here.”

“Or we could continue this conversation in my dorm room.”

He says it smoothly, with no fear or utmost insecurity.

“What?” You blanch, stuttering on your syllables. Tom smirks.

“A smart girl like you, and you can’t even comprehend a single sentence,” he says, his body beginning to move out of his chair. “‘S pathetic, really…”

You breath hitches as his tall form towers over you. Your fingertips grasp the sides of your chair as he leans in close.

“Tom,” you start, warningly. He quirks a brow.

“No?” He questions, and then after a moment, staring into your doe eyes, it dawns on him. His mouth forms into a grin. “Oh, you want it here, don’t you? You want it right here.”

His lips brush just inches over your pouty lips, and you wonder how in the hell you got into this situation and why this slytherin boy is making such a sudden move on you. But knowing Tom, it’s probably out of boredom. Out of the desire for a hook up.

You don’t mind it. Not really, not anymore, because all your protests are ripped away from you when he presses his lips to yours. It’s not tender or sweet, it’s full of sharp teeth and unfiltered lust. His hands rest on your chin, gripping your head so you can’t escape his kiss— can’t escape him.

Your tongue is about to graze his lips when he pulls away. His fingers grasp your shoulder and pull you up to your feet. You stumble, your legs shaky from just a couple of kisses. You gasp when he spins you around and presses your face against one of the nearest bookshelves. His big hands wrap around your wrists and hold them behind your back.

“I don’t want to hear any complaints from you. Do you understand me?” He whispers, his hands reaching down to lift up your robes. “If I do, I’ll leave you here drenched, your clothes gone, with your holes freshly fucked and on display for the entire school to see. Do you understand me?”

You nod instantly. You know that these aren’t empty threats; when Tom says he’s going to do something, he’ll do it.

When he pulls up your robes, taking in the sight of your pretty pink thong, he lets out a sharp breath.

“Prepared, weren’t you?”

You let out a whine, knowing that no, this wasn’t intentional. Tom just caught you on a specific type of day. But looking on it now, maybe the universe was being in your favor when you decided to pick out the flimsy undergarment.

Tom slips the hem of your robes into your hands.

“Hold it.” He commands, and you’re quick to comply.

His hardness presses against you, clothed still but his robes are lifted so he can rut against you in his briefs. It isn’t long before he’s pulling them down past his thighs, his cock sprinting up into the air as he places himself against you once again. You can’t help but drip with need, canting your hips back against him. His cock presses in between the seam of your ass, and you rub against him like a bitch in heat.

And just like a bitch in heat, you purr.

“Tommy..” you let out, and his grip on your hips tighten. “Please?”

He scoffs at the nickname, though his bottom lip is caught roughly between his teeth and he’s trying to contain himself. He wraps his hand around his awaiting length, parts your thighs with the other, and slides his dick up against your throughly aroused pussy.

He’s warm, sticky. You wish you could’ve seen him before this, seen that thing that feels oh so heavy between your legs, but it’ll have to wait. Hopefully, there will be a next time.

When he slides in, it stretches you obscenely. This isn’t your first time, but there’s a burning sensation as he enters you. He’s got the perfect amount of thickness and length to pull a moan deep from your throat.

He doesn’t start slow. His hips smack against yours at a rapid pace, small grunts leaving his silky lips as he uses you like a common whore. Your hands grip your robes and the bookshelf at the same time, trying to keep steady as Tom fills you to the brim. He noses along your jaw and leaves wet, open kisses there. You mewl when he bites down harshly and sucks a mark into your skin.

“Such a tight little cunt you have,” Tom breathes, his fingertips bruising your hips. “Look at you, such a slut for my cock. Does it feel good? Tell me, tell me how it feels.”

Your thighs squeeze him, your mouth gaping open in utter ecstasy. Your words are caught in your throat, but Tom is quick to force them out of you with a spank to your ass. You moan, your forehead pressing against the bookshelf’s wooden edge.

“Yes! Yes, it feels so good…” you slur, entranced by the spice of his cologne and the feeling of his girthy length splitting you open. He grunts, bucking his hips into you with vigor.

“And I bet it’s the best you’ve had, isn’t it? All those other boys can’t do it for you. I’m the only one that fucks you this good.”

It’s true, and when his cockhead hits a spot deep inside you that has you keening, your legs quiver and your brain turns to jelly. Tom’s fingers place themselves around your neck and squeeze so hard that your vision blurs at the edges, and you’re enthralled by the fear that courses through your veins. He’s playing your life in his hands like it’s a shiny new toy.

He fucks you like a madman as you gasp and beg for air. Tears spill out of your eyes, salty and wet and Tom takes notice.

“Crying?” He sneers, pounding you so hard that you’re sure the bookshelf will leave bruises as it presses against you. “You’re pathetic. A pathetic, filthy little girl.”

“Mmmhhh..” you cry out. Your eyes roll back as you utter incoherent sounds. He growls.

“Do you want me to cum inside you?” And then, with a harsh grip on your hair, “I want to hear you say it. Beg me. Beg me to fill you, whore.”

Your eyes shut tight, and your hands clasp around his wrists as he loosens his grip on your throat.

“Please,” your voice is a gasp as you finally get oxygen unto your system. “Please, Tom, f-fill me up. Cum inside me.”

A small, throaty groan escapes his lips, and with one last desperate thrust he’s spilling balls deep inside your drooling cunt. His cum spills over the cusp of your used entrance, and when he’s done fucking it into you he pulls out with a sharp exhale.

You can feel his cum spill out of your raw fucked hole, the creamy fluid dribbling down your thigh and dripping onto the carpet below. Your clit throbs mercilessly, still devoid of any attention, but Tom is quick to put a stop to that. He drops to his knees, then, and it’s a surprising gesture that you didn’t expect. He doesn’t seem like the type to get on his knees for anyone, let alone you. But his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he spreads your knees and catches his cum into his awaiting mouth. He licks up your hole, circling your clit with practiced precision. You let out a guttural sound when you hear the obscene noises of the cum spilling out of you, along with Tom’s mouth slurping at your cunt vigorously. He works at you over and over, and you clench when you feel yourself nearing your high. It’s almost embarrassingly quick, but you’ve been denied so long that you need to do it and you need to do it now.

“I’m going to…” you gasp out, as he rubs circles into your clit. He lets out a loud grunt against you, his mouth working harder. “I’m cumming—god, I’m cumming!”

Your orgasm washes over you, hits you like a tidal wave in the middle of an incredibly large ocean. Tom works his tongue and lets you ride out your high, and he sighs and pulls away from your pussy when you come down.

He’s gathered enough arousal to fill his mouth generously, and he kisses you flat on the lips. His tongue slides against yours and you can taste your shared arousal on him. You whimper, licking desperately at his salty spend, and it’s messy and sloppy and absolutely depraved. His teeth nip at you as you swallow it all down.

You’re dizzy, on shaky legs. You turn around, finally getting to see Tom’s face coated in your slick and his cum. He grins at you, and something twists in your gut so primal you feel you might burst.

“Better get to studying, Miss Y/L/N,” he says. “It’d be a shame if this missed study session made you fail your OWLs.”

[yeyinde]

ghoapxreader in the baby trapping series IM BEGGING 🧎‍♀️

i think i've exhausted the whole "tampering with contraceptives" thing to death by now so i would probably do something different with them. like a surrogate situation or something, but awful lmao

maybe down on her luck reader is in desperate need of cash, and these two men swoop in to save you from this horrible pit you've fallen into.

you need money. they need a baby.

simple, right?

except the simplicity falls apart when they blatantly tell you they want a natural insemination—as in, a threesome.

multiple, the pretty Scot tells you. after all, it has tae take, hen.

(and this is the part where you should have run. the moment when you'd be screaming at the television at the hapless protagonist as they walk mindlessly into danger despite the warning signs hanging overhead. but like the oblivious hero, you're too blinded by pretty, gleaming white to realise that the thing you're marveling over is a maw. cracked open wide and full of jagged, deadly teeth rearing up to sink inside of you.

but the problem with making shady deals when you're desperate is that no one really bothers to read the fine print, do they? and by the time you see past their crooked charm, you're waving your child off as they skip up the stairs to school, standing like a prisoner between them as they lean down and ask if you're ready for another—)

but that comes later.

what comes first is message on Craiglist.

one that you spend less time considering it than you should have. desperation, you find, clouds your judgement. blots out common sense. makes you susceptible to manipulation. and oh, how susceptible you are. despite priding yourself on your common sense and keen self-awareness, the overarching issues hanging over your head like an idling guillotine seem to erase that instructive need for self-preservation.

so, when the message itself pops up, you're already primed for making bad choices. ones out of malformed desperation. the barrage of texts from your landlord demanding rent, the ones sent to your family in moments of dire need asking for fruitless aid that will never come in time if the read receipts mean anything at all. the package from HR apologising for the inconvenience, but this was, regrettably, the only feasible option for the company at present, and too bad you didn't sign up for that union, huh? student loans. credit cards.

the measureable calamity of your life manifests itself in the shape of a black cloud hanging onto your aching shoulder, wrapping long, inkstained fingers around your jugular as it hisses the insurmountable figure needed to climb out of this pit in your ear.

sleepless, of course, hasn't helped.

and in that bog you can't swim through, their offer sounds far more appealing than it should.

let's meet up somewhere, comes the next message at half past three in the morning as you talk yourself in (and out) of this mess. talk about things more.

what else are you supposed to do?

job hunting sites mock you with their generic emails, thanking you for applying, and saying they'll reach out within a few business days for an interview if you're a good fit. ones sent off weeks ago. hundreds of them to no avail. it's almost like you're being plagued. blacklisted from the city.

even the fast food chain down the street refused your application when you sent it in, and the help wanted sign has been taped on the drive-thru window since you were sixteen.

it all pushes you closer and closer to making stupid choices, like replying with a simple (nervous, shaky, bile-tinged) sure to the message they sent. i'm down—

(—and drowning)

but you're smart enough to know better, so you act like it, too.

ping your location to your friends. tell them where you're going. clutch your keys so tightly in your fist that your knuckles just out through thin skin. layers upon layers of safety measures glimpsed through the various articles about how to stay alive.

but all the tremulous air is siphoned from your lungs when you see them for the first time.

something magnetic thrums through your chest. copper sutures running lines from their skin to yours until touching just seems like the most natural thing in the world. and you suppose it is when the pretty Scot folds you into a tight hug, cinching you close to his chest as if he's known you his whole life instead of just several seconds.

he's a thing of beauty. chiselled from marble, almost; David made human when he runs his tanned hand through the tumble of uneven hair along his crown. eyes the same varicoloured palette of a boscage in autumn framed in the setting sun's golden halo.

there's a distinct ruggedness about his beauty, too. one that reminds of you a lion's mane. the sleek fur of a stallion. pretty in a wild way. and as his eyes list towards you again and again, like he can't quite manage his fill of staring at you, taking you in, you think about that wildness again. the hunger in his eyes so similiar to the desperation of a predator fattening up for the encroaching chill of winter. it makes you shiver, but you can't look away

(because you know what's waiting for you when you do)

and when you finally pluck up the courage to glance at the shape devouring the light with his intimidating bulk, you come to quick realisation that if Johnny is the personification of an autumn evening, then the man standing next to him is the tried and true testament that bad things happen after dark.

he's a strange figure, one who veers almost comically into the uncanny valley with his hood pulled over the plain, black ballcap hanging low over his brow. a balaclava covering every inch of his face with the exception of a small, ovaled hole for his eyes. remnants of something ashy smear into the corners, running up the crooked bend of his nose.

he doesn't look like a real man—not with those liquid, haunting eyes—but at the same time, there's something preternaturally human about him. a stereotypical sense of masculinity—just one warped around the edges.

with his worn jeans pulled tight over thick, bulging thighs, and the silver zipper of his hoodie resting at the base of his throat, you could easily think he was just another man in the crowd, but it's off. a glitch. a skip.

like mistaking a coat rack for a man in the dead of night.

eerie.

dangerous.

if the man beside him is playfully carnivorous, a basking lion rolling onto his belly at the zoo, separated by thick glass, then he (Simon, Johnny supplies readily when the silence lingers; Simon Riley), Simon, is what it feels like to be followed home at night.

but—

there's something about fear and desire that are almost inseparable when broken down into a physiological response.

and when he steps up behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body soaking into the drying sweat on your back, you liken the way your heart climbs up your throat to same as it would seeing a dorsal fin cutting above the waves in open water.

desire, you think, and then catching the white-hot burn of the stare, you add, in a thin whisper: fear.

when they sit you down, and begin to spin a story about how they just want a baby—no strings attached—you stay seated in the chair even as an itch in the back of your head starts, nails scraping at your skull.

their reluctance toward traditional methods makes sense when they explain that with their lifestyle, it's impossible—or the Scottish man does; the other one with a marbled skin of thick, ugly scars on his hands just stares, pinning you down with the weight of his gaze—and this arrangement is the only way they'll get the baby they've been hoping for.

and even though the scratching in your head sounds suspiciously like why you and run, you eat the food they bought for you in the fancy restaurant where appetisers start at $30, and a glass of water is priced at $6. volcanic spring water, the waiter explains as he pours it from a marbled glass pitcher.

you haven't eaten a real meal that wasn't microwavable or cup noodles in weeks.

maybe that's why you find yourself thinking why not instead of no.

they're attractive men. it's not the worst situation you could have found yourself in, even if the idea of parenthood—however brief it's supposed to be—has bile clawing up the back of your throat, and the bones housing your trembling heart feeling laden, heavy like iron, and starts to cinch your chest shut each day, squeezing tighter, and tighter, and—

they drop off the first the installment to you the moment your doctor starts to talk about boerhaave syndrome, as if they know the doubts that plague your head when they leave your apartment and the silence starts to mock you.

and that leads you here.

guilt for their situation. desperation over your own. an overarching need to please. it's all a dangerous cocktail that douses over rationality until you're nodding along, accepting their words as gospel until sleeping with them—multiple times—doesn't seem like such a bad thing.

until it happens. until you have Johnny and Simon actively working to knock you up. a marathon of intense sex with the single-minded goal of putting their baby in you.

Johnny drooling all over you as he ruts between your thighs, mindlessly driving himself into a frenzy as he slurres out his desires in an incomprehensible mess of English and Gaelic and animalistic grunts. barely pulling out in time before Simon is pressing your knee down to the mattress, cooing mockingly at the mess his boy made of you. cruelly taking bets as he slides into your sore, aching cunt about who will take first. his or Johnny's? and who do you want, birdie? who's baby do you want first?

fingers always shoving inside to cap the overflow when they exhaust themselves in a liquid-limbed stupor, barely conscious as you tapped out some three, four rounds ago. unable to keep your eyes open any longer as they both came to the same conclusion that cumming inside of you at the same time was the quickest way to knock you up together. ain't he a romantic, birdie?

and it's probably for the best that you passed out before it happened, drooling on Simon's scarred shoulder as he gripped the cheeks of your ass, pulling you wide open as Johnny shuffled forward between his spread legs, eyes riveted to the spot where Simon's cock split you open. the ache you felt the next morning, coming to on a broad chest with fingers stuffed inside of you—shush, shush, just keeping you nice an' plugged, sweetheart—was almost unbearable.

you expected them to clear out after getting what they want, but they stay. tend to you carefully like you're made of fine china.

or—Johnny does. bundles you up in his arms before setting off towards the bath, finally letting you wash the sticky, flaking grime from your skin, some awful mixture of drying cum, spit, and sweat, groaning in your ear as he pulls you to his damp, hairy chest about how sweet you are for them. how they're going to take care of you.

Simon caters to other things. packs your bags as Johnny scrubs thick fingers over your shoulders, pausing to grasp a sore, tender breast in his palm, hefting the weight up as he feverishly mutters about how hot it'll be to watch you feed their baby. an' maybe you'll let him have a little taste, too—

and when you finally emerge from the bath, sorer between the thighs than you were when you woke up, another mess pooling in the gusset of the panties he pulled up your legs, Simon's waiting, eyes riveted to your belly. staring at it with so much hunger, a cold sweat breaks out along the nape of your neck.

in the grand scheme of things, the threesome is the easy part. the hard part comes when they turn the arrangement into a prison, locking the shackles around your wrists when the pregnancy test comes back positive a few weeks later.

they're only doing what's best for their baby, they say, when they move you out of your apartment and into theirs. the cut lease was the only way to do it, Johnny says, shrugging. why make you pay for something you aren't using anymore?

and maybe if your head was thickened with a fog, you'd have questioned the phrasing, but as it stands, pregnancy, even as early as this one, adles you. leaves you a syrupy mess of emotions that they take turns exploiting. aren't you so lonely all by yourself, hen? don' ye want a family?

aren't they good enough for you?

it's less subliminal messaging and more overt coersion. what are you going to do after this? where will you go with your lease cut? and when the funds run dry? what then?

gonna find another couple to knock you up? Simon hisses, mangled hands mauling your belly, pinching and squeezing the flesh as if he could feel the fragile box their happiness is housed inside. should jus' stay with us if that's the case, birdie.

but it's all so sweet, in its own way—

(—sweet like a parasite nesting inside of it's host.

but at least you'll never be lonely.)

they stand by the fact that they're looking out for you. that they care. that they can't do much else but idle and watch your body evolve into something new (an' magnificent, Johnny breathes, kissing this unfamiliar shape you call home) and it grates at them because they're not used to feeling so useless, so can't you just let them do this for you? take care of you in all the ways they see fit? like cutting your lease and giving you a better place to stay. handing in your resignation from that shitty nine to five that wore you down to the bone. culling out the annoyances in your life—the friends and family—who kick up needless fits over your wellbeing, and just stress you out more than you need to be.

they're not good enough for you, is what Simon says when you ask why he blocked them from your phone, Johnny hovering by the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. barring the exits, you'll realise later. but what comes first is fear, is anger, is—

happiness. maybe. or some broken, fragile facsimile of it. a subpar humuliculus masquerading around as if it was realised flesh and bone.

"oh," you say, and think you should be touched by his care, his concern, and so you are. shape this emotion from the sludge that pools at the bottom of your chest, running fingers through the muck to find pieces of gold. and then: "thank you, Simon."

it's sweet. or it could have been if it didn't spiral out of your control when they systematically dismantle your entire life until all you're left with is loose sediment slipping through your fingers. the foundation itself soften clay they shape into the image they've been after with the whole time: you.

(or more specifically, a momma for their baby.)

and when they ask you, at the end of this thin, fraying tether, if you want to be with them—an equal, a mother—and be a mother again for them, there's nothing else you could say except yes.

nothing because they made it so.

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: none yet

Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

———————

“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.

“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.

“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.

“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.

“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.

“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.

“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.

“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.

“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.

“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.

“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.

“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.

“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.

“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.

“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet

‘of course’.

“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.

“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.

“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.

“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.

—————-

“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.

“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.

‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.

“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.

—————————-

“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.

“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.

“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.

“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.

“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.

“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.

“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.

“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.

“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.

————————

“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.

“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.

“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.

“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.

“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.

“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.

“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.

“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.

“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.

“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.

But what if?

��—————-

“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.

“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.

“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.

“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.

“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.

“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.

“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.

He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.

“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.

“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.

“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.

“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.

“No worries love.” He nods to you.

“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.

He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.

—————————————-

I’m ready for a new story.

Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3

If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.

[bunny-jpeg]

I'm so excited for those new prompts!! Can i get a nacho dip and one hot cocoa with oscar piastri?

bakery menu - halloween menu

the halloween menu is available until nov. 2nd! so get those orders in! thank you to those who have submitted so far. doing something a little festive has been a lot of fun! so thank you!

nacho dip: "seeing you with those kids makes me want one." + hot cocoa: gentle/soft sex served by oscar piastri (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, established relationship, gentle sex, (slight) breeding kink, loving!oscar

you loved your boyfriend, oscar. there was something about him that just made you feel on cloud nine. even with your massively busy schedules, you still felt loved. like when he sent you flowers to your shared apartment and a promise of dinner when he returned. or how he'd get you a fridge magnet from every city on the race calendar.

oscar was a caring significant other. but something stirred in your core when you saw him with the kids in mexico city right before halloween. he was all smiles and hi-fives with the kids, speaking to them in what spanish he knew. but regardless he was still a joy to be around.

to see oscar with these kids, most of them dressed up for the event, it made you think about the future. a future with oscar. you knew about the lacy number in your suitcase and while that was for a pleasurable evening. the objective of your evening had changed.

the lingerie was appropriate for the season. it wasn't anything too fancy, or expensive. but you liked how it all fit your curves. they were boy shorts with bats and pumpkins printed on them paired with a bra that akin to a sports bra. and you paired it with a black silky robe.

you were seated on the bed as you waited for oscar to get out of the shower. you traced lazy patterns across the bed spread as you waited. you shifted in your spot a little and felt heat in your cheeks. the feeling was overwhelming. the anticipation for what was to come excited you greatly.

it was always fun to make love to oscar. he was the kind of lover that made your head spin. you had been with a few partners in your life, but none gave you the earth shattering orgasms that oscar gave you. for such a ray of sunshine, he could easily rock your world.

he soon entered the bedroom with a towel around his waist. he caught the sight of you and his eyes went wide. there was his beloved girlfriend, his angel incarnate. dressed in orange and black. he broke into a smile, "what is this? is this for me?"

you giggled and let the shoulders of the robe slip off of you. you exposed more of your body to him, "no, no. it's just for me, all for me."

oscar chuckled as he got closer. the towel was loose around his waist. he could feel his cock twitch under it. you were beautiful, even if the lingerie was a little cheesy. he liked cheesy, sex and intimacy didn't have to be so serious. it was meant to be fun.

"so what is this about?" he asked.

you replied, "originally, i wanted us to have a fun little night since we'll be busy for halloween. but, instead seeing you with those kids makes me want one."

oscar's eyebrows raised for a moment as he asked, "a baby? well. i guess i couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else." he laughed, "but i want to go gentle. no need to hurt ourselves trying to make a baby."

he dropped the towel and went over to you. he admired your beauty for a moment. his hungry gaze lingered on your form as he looked down at you.

you blushed a little big and looked away for a moment before oscar took you by the face to make you look at him. he leaned in to kiss you on the lips before he got into bed with you. he laid you out under him, chest to chest as he deeply kisses you.

soon your lingerie was on the floor, not ripped or torn. oscar wanted you wear it for next halloween. the thought made him smile against you. the taste of your lips felt like heaven and it made his heart sing. you were beyond amazing. beyond beautiful. he loved you so very much. you were perfect for him in every way.

his hands roamed your sides as he kissed you. it made you giggle and squirm. his heart hammered in his chest as his touches on you. he loved feeling you up. when he pulled away, he got properly between your legs and with a little help, he slipped his cock into you.

your back arched a little bit and you tensed up for a moment when you felt his cock inside of you. you made a soft noise that was music to your lover's ears.

"such a beautiful woman." he said with love in his tone. he loved the sight of you under him. you were beautiful. his words rung through as he moved against you. he was awfully rough, he never wanted to be. he loved you too much to treat you poorly.

sex between the two of you was meant to be fun and oscar had the most when there was consent, a lot of consent. he wanted to know that he made you feel good. that was his objective.

"i love you." you said to him softly as you shifted a little bit under him. he pressed into you perfectly. chest to chest as he rubbed himself up against you.

"i love you too." he moaned as he continued to move against you. his thrusts were slow with enough force that it made your toes curl. he adored you. you felt amazing under him, the pleasure coursed through his body the further he made love to you,

he thought about all your times together, every time he was able to make you easily orgasm. how he could make you feel on cloud nine. how he could pleasure you in such ways that it was a joy to make your toes curl with hot warmth coursing through your body.

you swallowed back the heat and squirmed a little under him. and soon oscar was holding onto your hands as he moved against you. he thrusted against you. you two felt amazing. there was a dreamy look in oscar's eyes as he moved against you.

"so pretty." he groaned.

you clutched his hands and leaned in to his face to press a hot kiss against his lips. he moaned a little bit and almost melted against you. he groaned against your kisses and tried to meet his pace. when you broke the kiss you panted, "please, ah, oscar. baby. i love you."

"i love you too. tell me you want it." he groaned.

you held onto him tightly, your fingers interlaced with his, "please, oscar. i want you. i want you always. i want to have a family with you." the bed shifted a little under your movements and your words only turned your boyfriend on greatly.

there was something about you that was infectious. you drove him wild, especially when he was making you feel good. he continued to move against you, he knew that he was getting closer to climax.

"fuck, i love you."

"i love you too." you giggled. you held onto his hands tighter, "you're amazing, the best boyfriend ever. and you'll be an amazing father too." you groaned and arched your back. but you were firmly pressed to him. the kisses grew hungrier the more you two moved.

it didn't take long for the pleasure to course through you. and it didn't take long for it to all come to a head. you kissed your lover once more, the future father of your children. he'd make a perfect father.

you came around his cock, and oscar finished inside of you while the two of you kissed deeply. you whined against his lips and he held onto you tightly.

"fuck." you groaned.

he replied with a quiet, "i love you." he laid out beside you. he pulled you into a tight hug and kissed your face lovingly. he loved you so much and he had new confidence for the race weekend. you two stayed tangled up in one another.

you said, "if you do well tomorrow, we can try for twins." you took him by the jaw and kissed his cheeks. he shuddered against you lovingly. you said that like a promise.

by the end of the season, oscar was curled up in bed with you back home and already speaking to your barely there bump. you weren't even three months pregnant. your child was still a blob, but oscar loved them all the same. just as he loved you <3

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

I’ve got some accessibility questions around zoo maps! Specifically, I’m interested in how people are impacted by the lack of paper maps / digitization of maps, especially when the ones in other languages than English are only online.

Please chime in in the replies and tell me about accessibility impacts you’ve experienced (or know someone who has experience) with:

No paper map policies

Online-only maps

QR codes to access maps

Maps available in an app only

Policies that instruct visitors to print their own maps ahead of time at home

Being told to photograph big signs with maps on them throughout the zoo in lieu of using an online map

Non-English maps being available online only

Policies that guests should use an app / Google translate to access map information / signage

I’ve got my own thoughts, but I know my perspective is limited to my personal experience. If these policies impact you in any way - not just due to disability - please tell me how. TIA!

[objectheadzine]

The theme of the eleventh Object Head Zine is “MAGIC AND FANTASY”.

(Illustration by TheHoleyness, concept/sketch by Potentialforart) Embrace the swirling magic inside as you summon power from the depths, awaken the sleeping strength to battle strong foes, and venture forth to adventure - this year's zine wants you to pull forth your imagination and seize fantasies beyond your wildest dreams! Feel free to pick whatever genre you'd like; there's plenty to choose from!

This book will feature 35 people I’ve selected, plus 35 open slots available to the public for a total of 70 participants! This year’s zine is a PAID OPPORTUNITY of $115 USD per page (an increase from previous years!). Participants will be paid as soon as they complete their piece  (give or take a week for PayPal to transfer funds). There will be a pre-order sale to cover the costs of printing and shipping.

The 35 pre-selected participants are:

Potentialforart | Corviday | Kimberly Wang | Louise Kay Uy | Cosmicloak | jeong | theHoleyness | Nighto | Blacklimes | Autumn Haynes | Jenny Park | Shibara | Juliette GMM López | Lemonjuiceday | Cacoethic + Lenalis | Vetiverfox | Caitlin Ono | Inktrashing | Jackarais | Pastachyan | nauma | april | siins | Kosse | PigDemonArt | CHRISQI | R-GIE | BunnyangelArt | K_Duffles | 1000 Dead Draculas | Rainboopz | Krispy | Feefal

The guidelines are as follows:

Illustration-quality works in either digital or traditional mediums. Both colour and b/w acceptable; background required. *BG can be as simple as a pattern or colour block!

6”x9”, 300 DPI illustrations with a 1/8th inch bleed (FINAL DIMENSIONS SHOULD BE 6.25” x 9.25”) Works must be in CMYK, and in a vertical format only.

At least one (1) work in progress picture should be sent in with your final illustration.

For consistency’s sake, keep faces to a minimum (You can have eye(s) or you can have mouth(s) but don’t have both in a humanoid arrangement.)

Original characters only (yours or your friends’).

You can include humans or other creatures, as long as there’s a 1:1   object head to non-object head/human ratio.

This book is for all ages. PG-13 content at the most! Cartoon violence and blood are acceptable, but realistic gore is NOT. Use your common sense. If you’re unsure, run the idea by me.

Completed illustrations must be sent as a flattened psd or tiff file

TO APPLY, FILL OUT THE GOOGLE FORM HERE

There  are only 12 slots for comics available due to page count space so if you apply for a comic space, and you are selected, you may not be picked for comics but instead illustration!

If you have any questions about the zine, feel free to send an email to objectheadzine(@)hotmail(.)com. I’ll do my best to reply promptly. If you haven’t received a response from me, please feel free to send it again. There are a few essential questions answered over at the FAQ. There is also a Twitter account for the zine for frequent updates and WIPs of the book!

Applications are due June 2nd, 2024, 11:59 PM, PST.

Edit: The google form was not letting people submit applications, I've remade the form - let's hope it works now!

[mercurycft]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 — 𝐊𝐌

## katie mccabe x reader !!

hi pookies!! once again i apologise for the lateness.. but i really hope you enjoy this.. my little tattoo-lover heart got a little carried away with this, but i love this concept so much and i hope you do too! its a little different than the original idea for the direction of this, but either way, i really enjoyed this!! happy reading! love always - RG! x

i would also like to say! this is inspired by a fic i saw on my feed about a tattoo artist x alexia (i think) and i loved it! if i find the account i will top the link to their fic here!

contains: tattoo artist reader! shameless flirting! angsty make up sex, cocky!katie, fight for dominance, oral - both receiving, rough grabbing, dirty talk, fingering, useless lesbians, top!katie and brat!reader, foul language.

r's masterlist - requests open!

4.6k words

CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE & CONTENT 18+

a knock at your door was a disruption to your night time routine - pyjamas already on, makeup off, hair tied back and your toothbrush hanging from your lips. you slipped on your slippers and headed down the stairs, still brushing your teeth when you pulled the door open to reveal a familiar face.

she was in a similar state. hair tied back messily, loungewear on and no makeup accept for her eyelash extensions. your eyes lifted from the floor to finally meet hers on the other side of the threshold

“katie..?”

“can i come in?”

3 months ago.

a notification past 7pm would usually be ignored.

and it was the first time, then the second, then the third. the fourth, however, was followed by a groan from your sprawled-out position on your sofa. although tempted to put your phone onto 'do not disturb' and continue the twilight marathon you started the previous night, you stretched across the empty space and patted around to locate your phone - simultaneously pausing the tv and shifting to sit with your back against the pillows for a change.

katie_mccabe11 liked your story.

katie_mccabe11 liked your post.

katie_mccabe11 started following you.

you have 1 new message.

"katie mccabe.." you whispered into the emptiness of your apartment, crossing your legs beneath you and clicking on the notification on your screen. "why do i know her.." you racked your brain, pursing your lips. you noted the football shirt in her profile picture alongside the blue verified tick beside her username and used your critical thinking skills to put two and two together, chuckling at the thought of your younger sister losing her mind at another footballer dming you.

you waited a few seconds before opening her message, reading it carefully and silently. "that's how i know her.." you replied to yourself, whilst alone.

last week you had beth mead in your seat at the shop, getting a small paw print behind her ear and chatting yours off in the process. you spoke about a lot of things, you're used to that though. sometimes people just need someone to talk to - and who better than their tattoo artist? you liked beth, she was lovely, easy to talk to. the kind of person you would be friends with. she wasn't with you for long, an hour tops and it flew by. at the end of the appointment you exchanged socials and she left with a 'i'll tell the girls about you!".

you didn't really watch football, but you knew enough - and you would be lying if the thought of your name being chucked around between a very attractive group of women didn't make your stomach twist.

you typed your reply to katie quickly. starting with your usual friendly opening, explaining your upcoming availability and then ending with a single kiss. you had no available appointment spaces for the next three weeks, but you hoped that beth really sold you and your passion enough that she would consider waiting. she read it almost immediately, making your eyes widen and quickly swipe away from the message in an effort to not seem like a total weirdo.

her reply flashed across the top of your screen a few seconds later.

'ill take it x'

—————————

appointment day.

it was appointment day and god were you a nervous wreck. you arrived at the shop an hour earlier than normal to open up and clean before she arrived - she was your first and only appointment of the day and you wanted to make a good first impression. you prepared what you would need, laying your tools out on the table beside you and making a coffee - which would no doubt be freezing cold by the time you actually got around to drinking it.

you connected your phone to the bluetooth speakers around the room and shuffled your playlist just as the doorbell rang from the front of the shop. 7:59. you didn't know much about katie, having restrained yourself from going full-on stalker mode over the last few weeks leading up to her appointment. but clearly she was punctual.

as you unlocked the door and smiled to her through the glass, you couldn't help but realise how strikingly attractive she was. her hair pulled into a tight and slick ponytail at the back of her head, a deep green tracksuit complimenting her tanned skin and bright eyes.

"good morning!" you greeted cheerfully, welcoming her in.

you watched as her eyes scanned around the room, studying the artwork on the walls before they landed back on you and a smile spread across her face to match yours.

"mornin' hope i've not been a fuss this early.." she joked as you embraced each other in one of those awkward-but-friendly-first-meeting hugs, causing you to laugh softly.

"oh it's no bother, serious." you waved her comment off, shutting the door behind you both and leading her over to your station at the back of the shop. you didn't expect her accent to be so thick, but the way her voice sat heavy in the space between you had you clenching your jaw.

the pair of you made small talk as she got situated and sat on the leather bed whilst you pulled up a stall and your phone to take another look at the pictures she had previously sent, grabbed a pen and then pulled a pad of paper onto your lap. laying the phone down so she could see as well.

you sat across from katie, discussing designs and what she would and wouldn't like. she was engrossed in the conversation, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as you shared ideas and suggestions. you found yourself doodling on the paper, absentmindedly drawing whatever came to mind as she chatted about the specifics of what she wanted. every now and then, your eyes would meet hers, and a playful smile would tug at the corners of your lips.

there was silence between you for a few beats as your pen etched across the paper and completed the first sketch of the possible design. when you finished you looked up and turned the paper towards her before you could ask how she felt about it she spoke up.

"how do you do that?"

"do what?" you replied playfully with a smile.

"how can you just listen and draw? it's so cool.." she sounded genuinely bewildered for a moment and you couldn't help but laugh lowly.

"honestly, it just happens. when someone describes what they want i see it in my head and just let my pen translate it." you explained with a shrug, looking at her again.

"well its sick, i won't lie!"

"thank you.. i'm a woman of many, many talents.." it came out a lot more suggestive sounding than intended, mental cursing yourself and begging internally that she wouldn't see the pink tint you could feel spreading across your cheeks. you looked back down at the page before she could notice, avoiding her eyes.

"oh i bet." she added, smirking across from you.

you both sat like that for another ten minutes, brainstorming ideas and katie watching you bring them to life like a magician until you both finally settled on a design. you couldn’t believe how natural the interaction was coming and conversation flowing. you embraced the shared banter between you and leant into her jokes.

the design she had settled on was small and intricate but you knew you could free-hand it, so decided against using a stencil for the work. “right, i am gonna wash my hands and get everything sterilised, you get comfy and have a think about where you want it. okay?” you said as you stood up and ripped out the page you were using, placing it beside your other supplies so it was easy to use as a reference. katie replied with a small “sounds good to me,” and you heard her shuffle around the bed and as you made your way to the sink you could feel her eyes on you, following you away.

when you returned to her, she was sat more comfortably and had discarded her hoodie. the ribbed vest she was hiding left little to your imagination, revealing her arms and more of that heavenly tanned skin to your prying eyes. you tried not to look, but were made too aware of yourself failing miserably when she caught your gaze and you watched her suppress a chuckle.

once you were situated on the stool again, you took a deep breath and turned towards her. “so where are you thinking?” she sat silently in response, deep in thought.

“either here,” she pointed to the inside of her bicep to punctuate her point “or here..” she added quietly as her thumb hooked into the waistband of her joggers and shimmied them down a couple of inches until you could see the skin at the bottom of her stomach- in line with her hip. perhaps you looked for a second too long, or she heard you gulp, or maybe your fears were real and she could in fact hear your heart rattling against the boney cage of your ribs in your heaving chest - but the way you heard her exhale a humorous breath and tense her stomach muscles snapped you back into reality.

“which one would you prefer?” you questioned, professionally.

“probably my hip.” you nodded in agreement, smiling and internally celebrating at her decision. “and as a bonus i get to watch you gawk at me for however long it takes,” she teased, earning a small smack to the upper thigh and an eye roll.

“i was absolutely not gawking!” you defended with a smile.

“oh yeah, alright then..”

you rolled your eyes again and stood to grab a small bottle of sanitiser and a disposable razor, placing them on the table - once you made sure she was comfortable you sat down again.

“i’m going to pull your joggers down a couple inches, is that okay?” you waited for her reply before making any moves closer to her.

“of course,”

“perfect.”

you got straight to work, dragging them down until the area she had pointed out was revealed again - only this time you could see the band of her underwear peaking out from beneath the fabric and it had you drawing in a careful breath. you circled the skin with your pinky finger lightly and showed her the length and width the ink would cover, double checking that was exactly where she wanted.

the tattoo itself took no longer than forty minutes to complete. once you were finished you sanitised and made sure it was exactly how she wanted before moving to discard any disposables used. she took it like a champ the entire time, only slightly flinching when the needle grazed a particularly tender spot.

you spoke to her about the aftercare and how to take care of it whilst it healed, then covered it with second skin and soothed the area - moving to wash your hands and stand against the counter. “any questions?”

you sat speaking for another hour, and you were sure at times she was stalling so she wouldn’t need to leave.

“when do you finish?”

“whenever you want to go,”

“why didn’t you say! i don’t want to hold you up, love..” she tutted and began collecting her stuff. you laughed at her huffing like a child and led her towards the front desk.

the petname made your stomach jump, twisting and twitching in your abdomen as you studied her. the way she moved and smiled, how her eyes pierced through you like she was reading your mind - how you were so sure she actually could see and read the filth behind your own eyes.

at the front she paid and thanked you another couple hundred times as you let her out the door. she stepped over the threshold and gave you another small hug. “thank you again, i really love it.”

“stop thanking me! i’m just glad i could do your vision justice..” you smiled and shrugged, “you’re welcome anytime, just pop me a message!”

“that’s just because you want to look at my stomach again..” she called, walking to her car and waving.

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes, laughing. “don’t be a stranger!”

—————————

during the appointment you and katie exchanged numbers and for days, weeks, months you texted each other everyday. you met for coffee, went to watch her and the team (who you got along with swimmingly) practice, you even went to watch all of their matches.

you had been inseparable since that first meeting, you shared things about each other previously unknown by anyone, spent evenings and nights at each others homes and got aquatinted with family and friends.

after spending so long together, the pair of you had become incredibly close - often sharing a bed, and clothes. you couldn’t help but feel things for her, for katie. your stomach became a harvest ground for butterflies and your heart rattled with longing for her.

you came close to telling her, to explaining how you felt - until one day, it just stopped.

the meetings stopped,

then the match invites,

then the messages,

everything stopped.

—————————

present day - 2 months later.

over the last months without talking to katie, you threw yourself into work and university in an attempt to distract yourself. you felt like you were going through a break up - could you even call it that? could you categorise this into the break up section? a friend break up? whatever it was, it hurt, and you found yourself still thinking about her.

friday nights felt weird now. usually sat on the sofa with a takeaway, katie sat on the other side with her food in her lap - laughing at some stupid program she had put on. now it was empty in the apartment, and you sat on the sofa alone with a cup of tea watching telly until it was time to get ready for bed.

you showered, careful to avoid putting soap the area of your newest tattoo addition on your wrist - letting the warm water run over the skin. when you were done, you made sure to moisturise and then cover it up again before getting dressed into your pjs.

you brushed your hair, and then began brushing your teeth - staring at yourself in the mirror and studying the ink that now littered your arms and chest.

you were deep in though when a a knock at your door disrupted your night time routine - still brushing your teeth when you pulled the door open to reveal a familiar face. your eyes lifted from the floor to finally meet hers on the other side of the threshold.

“katie..?

“can i come in?”

“uh, yeah- yeah- sure,” you stammered and stepped back to open the door wider for her, stepping away into the kitchen area to spit the froth from your toothpaste into the sink and quickly rinse before running back to shut the door behind her.

it was awkward. she stood in front of you in silence for a few beats, looking down at the ground as if she was figuring out what to say. you stood a few steps away, leant on the wall beside you with your arms crossed across your chest.

"why are you-"

"look i dont know why-"

you both spoke over eachother, breaking the silence that sat heavy between the walls. you shared a smile, it was brief, but it was there as you met her blues and waved your hand - gesturing for her to continue.

"look, i don't know why i'm here. i just got in my car and then i was on the drive and i just needed to speak to you. i just wanted to see you-"

"oh god you never shut up mccabe.." you whispered with an eye roll as you advanced towards her.

one step. what if she doesn't want this?

two steps. what if i've read this all wrong?

three steps. jesus her perfume..

every step you took was narrated by that voice in your head, you know, that one that tells you to shut up in uncomfortable situations and the one that speaks to you when you watch something brilliantly but so stupidly funny. you couldn't stop to think out loud, you couldn't stop full stop. point blank. period.

your feet were moving faster than your thoughts, and your thoughts were moving faster than your logic until you were so close you could feel her soft breath caressing the skin of your face.

"tell me not to, and i won't." you said softly

"god, you've always been too sweet for me."

there was no time to register what she said, her lips were on yours. they were everything you had thought of, they were soft but she kissed you with urgency. breathing heavily as her hands raised to either side of your face, pulling you closer than physically possible. your lips moved together sweetly, full of love.

you stayed like that for a few minutes, soaking each other in until she pulled away. lips swollen, taking a deep breath. there were no words exchanged between you, only eye contact - the sound of breathing shared. then you crashed together again, lips connected for a second time in the space of five minutes.

this time however, was harsher, and fast-paced. she was in control, gagging for it. hands grabbing at whatever fabric they could find on the opposing body, a small moan falling from your lips when her hands squeezed the skin of your waist and her lips broke from yours momentarily to grunt out a "jump." to which you gladly obliged, legs wrapping around her waist and her hands finding the skin at the top of your thighs - she held you like nothing, with no struggle as she passed through the hall and up the four steps to your bedroom.

when she placed you back down onto your feet you were quick to tug your top up and over your head, discarding it on the floor. before you could continue she grabbed your hand, finger tracing gently over the still-fresh tattoo across your wrist.

"this is new," katie whispered.

"i had a lot of time on my hands." you replied at the same volume, shrugging. she chuckled lightly, reading the words now littering the skin. "and you were always saying i was sweet.."

"aye, and you're yet to prove me wrong."

"don't start something you can't finish, katie."

"oh i'm very, very good at finishing, actually."

"shut up."

this time you had her, hands on the back of her neck as you pulled her in. grabbing the fabric that sat at the nape of her neck and pulling it over her head, only breaking the kiss until your path was cleared again. you span around, walking backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed causing her to lay down. you wasted no time in straddling the top of her thighs, arms on either side of her head.

"behave." she muttered, hands gripping your thighs and switching your positions on the bed, now towering over you, arms replacing yours on the bed. mouth moving to your neck, nipping at the skin beneath your ear. "stop acting like you don't want me to have my way with you."

"stop acting like you've got it in you." you quipped back, smirking when her teeth grazed your earlobe roughly. her hand raising to grip your jaw and forcefully turn your head to face her.

"is that a challenge? hm?" it was rhetorical, her eyebrows raised and voice low.

"prove it."

she didn't need further pushing, lifting herself off the bed and taking a few steps back. you propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch, head tilted when she stared at you blankly. eyes flicking to your shorts before back up to your face.

"take em' off."

"you take them off."

"take. them. off. i won't be asking again."

you gave in with a huff, rolling your eyes and lifting your hips to peel your shorts off. biting down a smirk as you lifted your legs back onto the bed - revealing yourself to her.

"awfully cocky there, love."

"as if you don't love it."

"do you always have such a smart mouth?"

"i have a very lovely mouth."

"oh i bet."

she was on her knees then, face level with you. eyes locked on your gleaming pussy, fingers gliding through your folds and collecting your slick before bringing her digits to slip between her lips - tasting you. she laid her fingers back against you, prints flat against your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make your head fall back on the bed behind you with a desperate moan.

she drew tight circles, watching you throb beneath her fingers. you moaned at the contact, your clit already sensitive. you didn't know how she managed it, but she had you falling apart from the pressure alone - and you could tell she loved every second of it with her lips drawn into a cocky smirk at the sight of your mouth falling agape when you began rutting up into hands as a plea for more.

“does that feel good darlin'?” she asked from between your thighs, her lips pressed against the soft skin of your leg, stopping their sloppy kisses for a second. you whimpered in response, nodding slowly. “use your words, love.”

“yes it feels good..” you whispered, licking your lips, your mouth increasingly dry.

“good girl..” she added, jaw clenched when she attached her lips to your thighs again. you savoured the feeling, the delicious feeling as she dragged her fingers roughly against you. the praise made your legs tense against her lips, sending a rush of pleasure down through the depths of your stomach.

“i want more. please.”

"hm? what was that?”

“i want your fingers..” you confessed, dragging your own teeth along the back of your hand which you were using to muffle the sultry sounds tumbling from your lips - biting down against the skin when you felt your face flush.

“please,” you begged, hips rising off the bed in a desperate act for more friction. she shut you down quickly, using her free hand to pin your hips back to the mattress.

“please what, darling..” she stalled, slowing down to an unbearable speed.

“i need you to fuck me,” your words made you squirm, eagerly waiting as you felt a single finger travel down and tease your hole before she pushed into you slowly. her own thighs clenching at the sound of you gasping as she added another finger, curling them methodically inside of you.

she stretched you out perfectly, her fingers moving at just the right speed to have you moaning with every thrust into you. her pace and pressure increased with the volume of your whimpers, back arched into her touch and face buried in your arms as her fingers pressed perfectly inside of you. she curled her fingers to press against your g-spot, mentally noting how perfect you sounded chanting her name. taking advantage of you being preoccupied by the pleasure, she moved to lay her tongue flat against your clit. fingers still moving inside you as she carefully flicked the bundle of nerves between her lips.

a moan rattled from the back of her throat as you coated her taste buds, the vibrations travelling straight to the fire now raging in the pit of your stomach and coursing through your legs - coaxing out a moan of your own.

she felt you tense and squeeze around her fingers, your clit throbbing against her mouth when she lifted her eyes to survey the scene above her. your eyes screwed shut and teeth gripping your bottom lip so tight it was sure to leave a mark. chest heaving and hands twisting in the sheets.

"you going to cum for me?"

“y-yes,” you stuttered, eyes rolling into the back of your head when her fingers curled a final time and she took your clit into her mouth with a pop.

“thats it. good girl.”

that was all it took for you, your orgasm crashing through your body and shaking through your limbs. legs shaking beside her head and cunt tensing around her fingers. back arched and screaming out her name.

katie let you ride it out, only stilling her fingers and withdrawing her tongue from you when your back finally laid against the bed again - catching your breath. she brought her fingers up to your mouth and slipped them past your lips for a second as she moved to straddle you, climbing up from the floor. her fingers dragged down the length of your chin and were replaced with her mouth, her tongue finding yours - allowing you to taste yourself from her mouth.

"wanna taste you," you managed to croak out through the kisses, gulping and lifting your hands to press against her chest. pushing her back and towards the pillows at the head of the bed until she was laid down. "my turn.." you whispered seductively in her ear, lips pursed and leaving small kisses in your path as you travelled down the length of her body.

her tracksuit bottoms were removed quickly and your fingers were hooked into the band of her underwear, pulling them down her tanned legs until they followed the rest of the clothes to reside on the floor. she was dripping, and the sight alone was enough to have you salivating below her.

the scrunchie in your hair had loosened after the previous events of the evening, and your hair was limp enough for her to slide her hand into the back of your locks. gripping tightly and pulling you closer to her pussy.

"go on, make me feel good."

you needed no further instruction, moving closer to her before she had even finished the sentence. you laid your tongue flat against her, lapping her up. she tasted almost as good as she looked. her eyes focused on you and her hand tight against your scalp, guiding you.

you couldn't look away, allowing her to take you as she wanted. moving your head against the rhythm of her hips - moaning your name when your eyes met hers innocently. her head fell against the headboard when you whimpered against her, her own noises mirroring yours as her legs started to close around your head.

"fuck, thats it. i'm gonna cum," she groaned, both hands on the back of your head as you drank her in. nodding eagerly between her thighs, silently begging for her to cum for you.

and she did. hard. crying your name out into the room around you, followed by a string of curses until she finally released your head from her hands and her legs laid limp beside her on the bed.

"jesus christ."

"nope, just me." you teased, now occupying the space beside her on the pillows. both of your bodies coated in a sheen layer of sweat and your eyes threatened to close with the sound of her steady breathing when her arms moved to embrace you.

"i didn't mean to just disappear how i did," she began, causing you to look at her again. "i just didn't want you to get caught up in the shit show that is my life,"

"katie, you could've just said you needed a bit of space,"

"but i don't think that's what i wanted, i just didn't to ruin what we were doing, and well, making.." she paused, taking one of your hands into her own and bringing her lips to press against the skin.

"you were just too sweet to me,"

[thefusioncelestial]

Mix 7: A Father's Gift

Mr. Jacobs was proud of his son. He was everything he wanted, if only his son, Derek would realize this.

But with the gift he was about to obtain, perhaps he would realize this.

Mr. Jacobs heard about a mysterious shop that was able to fix certain issues; of the bodily kind. Before he knew it, he was standing before its doors.

He scanned the surroundings before going in. It was wet and lightly raining, two tall walls of red brick, a reminder of the post WW2 era, flanking the doors on both sides. The door was wooden with no sign of paint or finish on them, and there was no sign save a strange symbol etched at the top of the door. Small enough to miss if you didn't notice. He couldn't make out the of the building, it seemed to never settle on a shape, style, or material. Mr. Jacobs soon put that out of his mind and walked through the door.

The room inside was darkly lit, but it had grayish carpet, dark green wall paper, and two Japanese style doors in the back. In front of them was a receptionist area that blocked access to them.

There was a man sitting behind it looking at him. His hair was concealed by a white turban, but his facial hair; medium sized eye brows & a carefully shaped mustache, revealed that his hair was jack black. He had striking green eyes. He was wearing a black shirt that had a galactic print on them. He could swear that he could see the stars twinkle & the galaxy itself slowly turn.

"Hello sir, I take you are here to take on a new look? You can be anything, or are you looking to heal some hurts that modern medicine has failed to heal so far," the receptionist asked in an confident tone.

"Not for me, but my son," Mr. Jacobs replied.

"How does this work? What do you charge?"

"What I charge depends on the reasons for the change, typically for men like you looking to change their sons, often for vanity reasons, I do not come cheap. I can't tell you how many "wimps" I changed into world class athletes," the receptionist replied.

He continued: "As for how, you go through the door to my left, pick the traits you want, and then get back to me & I'll handle the rest. Now give me your right palm, Mr. Jacobs." He came out of the receptionist desk & brought two chairs for both to sit.

He sat & so did the father.

He stretched out his hand.

As if instantly, Mr. Jacobs did as he was asked.

"How did you know my family name," he pondered.

"Oh forgive me, my name is Corsair, as for how, I would not make it as far as I did in my line of work if I didn't know who may prospective customers are," Corsair retorted.

Must be because my information is available online due to social media he thought.

Corsair had Mr. Jacobs's hand grasped in an embrace of both of his hands. He then moved his forehead to touch this embrace and closed his eyes. His secret revealed, he could read minds!

He saw the real reason for the visit. He did in-fact come to help his son. It was not to make him a star or make him more palpable to the marriage market or for some desire to use him for social gain. His son had confidence issues.

He dug deeper. Ah, there he is:

I see, from their conversations, the son feels mixed matched. He worked on himself hard both academically & physically and achieved a great result. One more year at university, and quite the healthy body with the aesthetics to show it. But he hates his face. Nothing he has done has ever worked. He considering plastic surgery. Mr. Jacobs supports his son, but wants a more natural way than the scalpel. My way is...magical if not natural. He just needs a little bump to bring out his features.

Corsair moved his head back up to face Mr. Jacobs & unclasped his hands and rest his on his lap.

"He doesn't need much. One measure. $1000," he said in a deadpan manner.

"Deal," Mr. Jacobs said quickly.

Corsair smiled, "Through this door."

He handed Mr. Jacobs a cup.

"Pick one to fill in that cup. The turn knob & valve is located under the giant cylinders. Keep walking forwards after you are done,' he said.

"Just like that," Mr. Jacobs replied.

"Just like that," Corsair replied with a big smile.

He opened the receptionist area to let Mr. Jacobs in, and he went through the door. It closed behind him.

The area was pitch black, but soon a green light, no a series of green lights sprang up. They were next to each other with some distance, but orderly. They were lined up on both sides of the room, forming a hallway.

He walked up to the first pair. They were giant green clear glass canisters. There was a glowing green liquid inside and to his shock; unconscious men with their eyes closed floating inside of them.

They seemed to be sleeping. They had a calm expression about them. Each canister had a distinct person in each. No matter the size, face, ect, they were all good looking & fit. It was a hallway of models.

Pick me. No me. No over here!

The men inside were mentally communicating with Mr. Jacobs.

"Wait you can speak without moving your mouths? Wait, are you being held against your will," he asked out loud.

In unison: NO!

Do not worry for us, for a part of us gets to live on in others. We get to live through others in more lives than what has been recorded in history. Choose.

Telepathy he realized. Fine, he would choose.

"I don't need much, I just want my son to be more confident himself. Realize his potential," Mr. Jacobs said loudly.

Far off in the back a canister glowed very brightly while the others dimmed.

After 10 minutes he approached the canister. For some reason he put his hand on it, and then a flash of the memories of the person on the canister flooded him.

A young soldier, living life. He was always positive no matter the situation. On track to a long distinguished career. About to go home. And then a large explosion occurred. A terrorist attack, killed his most of his platoon, and he layed on the ground suffering about to meet his maker.

Corsair appeared. He healed the soldier's body, but the soul was too detached to keep him going.

He was given an offer:" work through him to help others in need of help. You would live on by merging yourself with others to change their life trajectory in positive ways. You would still be considered dead to the public."

The solider, named Caleb agreed without hesitation, not caring for the life in the canister.

On the bright side, the canister men were given a new purpose & would join their new mental powers thanks to the green liquid that also anchored their souls to their bodies & gave them eternal youth. They created a gesalt mind palace where they could get to know of each other & live new lives in their perfect worlds.

Mr. Jacobs chose him. After he wiped a tear from his eyes, he looked down and found a water jug like hatch, the kind you find in barrel shaped drink dispensers, and pressed the release valve down. Green liquid filled the cup & he was done.

"Thank you for your service," said Mr. Jacobs. He bowed.

The serene body cocked a smile.

Mr. Jacobs wanted to take him home, but he knew he would die outside that canister and promptly left. He kept walking forward, not backwards as instructed, and came across a door.

He walked through it. He came out to the same receptionist area he used to come in. He turned and saw it was the first door he used to get into the hall way of perfect, to him, men.

Space time shenanigans.

He walked past the receptionist desk, turned towards Corsair.

"I take it you will keep the secret," he wondered.

"If this works, my life is yours," the father replied.

"The money has already been deducted, hand me the cup. The final step is near," Corsair said & then took the cup from the father.

He could not see what he was doing, but he heard shaking & swirling noises. They stopped. He pulled out a bag & In the bag was a green pill.

Corsair handed Mr. Jacobs the bag.

"Have him swallow it over night, right before he goes to bed," he said.

"Thank you so much, how do you take payment," Mr. Jacobs pondered.

"Payment is automatically deducted as I said before," Corsair replied.

They both wished them a great day & Mr. Jacobs went home.

His son was home the weekend before spring break, determined to do nothing. Maybe some extra studying.

His father gave him a bag with a green pill in it. Told him to take it before bed. Maybe an anti-anxiety pill? Some supplements?

He pondered. His dad has never given him anything bad. He did as he was told. He went to sleep.

His body began to float. He wanted to wake up and see what was going on, but he couldn't open his eyes, move his limbs, or get out of his dream. Did the pill he took induce sleep paralysis?

He had a mouth, but he could not scream.

He was floating about 3 feet above the bed, and then the bed sheets slid off, exposing him to the air from all sides.

Above him was a specter or ghost. It was Caleb. He was floating even higher than Derek was. Situated above Derek in the same resting position, he started to descend. Derek didn't move, couldn't move. Soon Caleb was occupying the same space as Derek.

Swoosh. A burst of wind flowed out from Derek's body.

Caleb faded away into Derek, and Derek soon glowed green.

In Derek's dream space, he met Caleb. Derek was scared at first, but he was able to be calmed down. He explained the situation. Derek was mad at his dad at first, but understood his good intentions.

"How much of me will change," Derek asked.

"I don't know, but you will still be driving the wheel of whatever it is we turn into," Caleb said.

Derek let out a sigh. It was probably too late to go back. He swallowed the pill after all.

"You will ride passenger seat no matter what," Derek said in confidence. Some of Caleb's mental aspects where seeping in.

Caleb smiled. Both of the men turned into tornadoes that then merged into one twister. It settled into a new person.

The green glow went away.

For Caleb's physical body, it began to change. During the mind meld, Caleb's DNA transfused into every part of Derek's body.

He grew more hair, eyebrows got thinner, his lips a more flush with blood getting pinker. His eyes reshaped themselves, while his ears changed angle a little to move towards the skull.

His chin and cheek bones thickening gave him a much stronger jawline. His skeletal changes generated new sensations, like the feeling of pops and pressures. From this moment forward, Caleb grunted. Not in defiance, but in acceptance of the new changes. You could hear "mmm" come from him.

With a suddenness & popping sound, his neck, shoulder, chest, arms, & legs exploded with new muscle at the same time as if he was hulking out. His fingers changing to meet the new proportions. His legs lengthened.

He let out an sharp "ahh" at the sudden changes. His body from his waist jerking up to make a weak triangle before settling flat.

His abs changed as well. He began to groan. He had a cross between his own and Caleb's. He could feel his abdominal muscles merge into one. The skin then constricted and reshaped them, giving form to each of his stones.

His nether regions were a 1 to 1 copy of Caleb's. Bigger & longer. Harrier too. As the changes came in, he could be heard breathing hard through his nose.

The changes were done. His transformation complete. He slept the rest of the night.

He got up before his father & went to the local gym: he needed space & a different environment from his father's home. No one saw him as a different person to his shock. He went to the locker room to get a full look of his changes:

He was bewildered. He was like a new man. Did he have to change this much? He loved the muscles, the power,....the confidence? He remember that Caleb was inside him now. Caleb was a soldier. A flood of memories hit Derek. Caleb's training & missions as a soldier, his buddies in the air force.

He returned home. His father was also shocked by his son's changes. They talked and found a happy medium. He wanted to know where this clinic was located, but his father forgot. No third chances.

He decided to go travel for this spring break. A visit to Caleb's platoon. The ones who survived. To the graves of the ones who didn't. They all deserved respect.

[upsidedownsmore]

Hollowframe 57 + Umbra, my submission for the TennoCon 2024 Community Showcase!

Sorry that it took this long to post! This update is special for many reasons, and I'll go through them all here!

First up, Dante AND Jade!

This is the first time I've added two frames to the project at once, rushing to get both finished in time for Tennocon. In order to do so I had to skip making backgrounds for them, however I still plan on making them as soon as I'm able!

You can find more details about the delay and my change of plans regarding their solo compositions in the thread here

In addition to the two new frames, I also took the liberty to rework and tweak a bunch of the older designs that I felt weren't fitting the goal of the project well enough. It was nice drawing simpler designs again! (old on left, new on right)

Here's a timelapse of the changes made to the poster! Tumblr can only have one video per post, so you can find a twitter reply with videos for Dante and Jade here!

Now to get sappy, cause this poster had two journeys through Tennocon! The first being that it got accepted into the community showcase, so here's pics of that! What an absolute honor omg

The second journey was my own personal print, which got signed by so many amazing and lovely people from DE!! I'm SO glad I got the poster printed for myself from Mercury Blueprinting the day of TennoVIP oh my lorrrrd

I might as well add that you can also find all this in my new ArtStation portfolio! Link to it here:

Aaand if you want to check out the Hollowframe Google Drive folder for free or more, it's now available on my new Ko-fi! Link to it here:

Previous Hollowframe update:

I think that's it! There's no way I would have ever guessed how far this project would go when I started it 3 years ago. Thank you guys so much for the support throughout the years, just absolute insanity and i'm losing my ability to word good i still cant get over iiiiiiiiiiiit

[boltedfruit]

KING STEVE! Available as a print, sticker, and more!

INPRNT | KO-FI

This one took all week! Closeups in replies~ (look at those lowkey steddie polaroids 👀)

[dnptarot]

-The Lovers by Timothy Liu

Alright here it is!!! The final collection of everybody's fantastic art for the dnp tarot deck!

here's a little sample of the kind of fantastic art we've had in the past two months of the event, with a bunch more in the google drive (linked here). this event has been such a joy to create! all the artist i've worked with have been so kind and amazing and i've made some really good friends throughout the process 😊 this one goes out to dan and phil for being so hot and gay that they look good as every card in the tarot deck, and to all the artists who made this a reality!

now for the technical stuff- i don't currently have the ability to print these and make them into a physic deck that can be sold as was suggested to me, but i do know that the website makeplayingcards.com has some pretty good options available to make your own for fairly cheap! in the google drive are .png files of every card as well as one for the back design, so go crazy!!! ofc remember that these are actual artists so don't sell their work as your own or anything 💖 let's keep being a kind and collaborative community guys- the phandom rocks!!!

and honestly, one more big thank you to the artists who participated. i'll tag everyone under the cut, but thank you so much for being such an amazing community to work with and such great artists!! and lastly, happy birthday @danielhowell !!! this started as a joke about a birthday present for dan and @amazingphil and turned into this fantastic monstrosity, so thank you guys for inspiring so many people to make such fantastic art 😊 this has been a blast 💖

okay here are the artists in the sample art, in groups of three from left to right

@viewerspookyhappenings @koyalime @psychicmoth

@ardenpng @saturnisfallingdown @queercatwithhat

@queenusagiblog @macaronimars @azuphere

and the rest of the artists!!

@jupiter-pls @serendipnpipity @danrifics

@thelibertini @hiwatari-art @freshbaked-bread

@rainytastemakeralpaca @wannieswifey @undead-queer

@thistooisphanyuri @spittykin @an-internet-introvert

@littlegreenfrog @macabremaxx @bogboygremlinthing

@all-star-lester @leanned-too-hard @fromemotoangel

@ayushikuu @shlebbie @obv10usly

@lumintsu @lesterlatte @littlestormofmess

@lovelydeps @catzoomies @precalamity

@emojackolantern @artsyangely @atomicjellycat

@lgbtspaghetti @i-remain-convinced @hingefreelester

@opossoomed @jutsomethoughtsihave @dapg-otmebytheballs

@anironsidh @ghoulish-art-tendencies @firehologram

i ran out of mentions SO i will put the rest in the replies everyone go check it out theyre amazing artists

[craftingwithamyc]

I’ve been working on these pictures of Late mainly posted over on my Instagram

Pedro Pascal characters in a sort of playing card style

Prints available on my Etsy store

[tapeworrmart]

🦂Commission Slots Open: DECEMBER!🦂

As you know, art is my only job rn and in order to support myself I figured I need to be fulfilling at least 4 or 5 comms a month.

In desperate need recently as my rent has increased and I'm helping my parents with bills too. Ideally I need to make £400 a month to help, so that's 5 or so slots to fill. I'd really appreciate the help 💖

Currently 2 commission slots available rn!

Details in my carrd as usual. DM me if interested :)

Also prints and stickers available on my etsy (you can DM me directly for them so not to go through etsy) and my inprnt which will help with daily costs etc. Also able to take print requests to make prints for a design you want that isn't already in my et/sy shop, for a bit extra. See pinned post for more detail about prints.

Thanks sm 💖