#really sums up having a cat

[gentlelass]

Combined prompts suggested by @wtjaden and @ahhhh-118!

[moe-broey]

I def wanna color these when I have the energy BUT..... back on a Pokemon kick.... ever so slightly......... also second sketch is so rough SORRY (I DO WANNA CLEAN IT UP!!! But I was mostly focused on conceptualizing the outfits!!!!)

I have soooo many other sketches too but I wanna save em for later.... but let it be known, this is just an elaborate excuse to play dress-up. Esp for Moe I'm gonna be so real, it has SUCH A SILLY OUTFIT and it is SO. SOOOOOO jackass rival coded. Guy who is gonna pick fights and cause problems for NO reason. Or for gay reasons. Most likely gay reasons tbh

[qrevo]

got curious and looked at the MILGRAM # on twitter. sorted by latest. worst mistake of my life 💀💀

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite.

Master Post | Next

Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.

or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.

Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.

he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.

Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.

No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.

dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.

"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"

the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."

her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."

"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."

the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.

Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.

walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.

Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?

Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.

thennnnnn-

Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.

and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.

there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.

who else was there? hmmmm.

well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.

it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.

he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)

he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.

but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?

it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.

...

was he really going to do this?

...

yes, yes he was.

standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.

suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.

the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."

Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.

well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.

Next

[embonar]

2023 is just NOT going to be my year huh

[pearlymel]

·˚ ༘ ·If bad, then why does it feel good?˚. ༉‧₊˚ ft. Sylus.

SUM. You happen to share genuine feelings with the supposedly man you hate.

WC. 2.5k

WARNINGS. not mc fem! reader, fluffy smut MDNI, emotional feelings, unprotected sēx, soft needy sēx, enemies to lovers type shit, not proofread.

NOTES. Just sylus. Nothing more.

It always comes down to this.

The constant hatred for him, you want to literally pierce a bullet to his head. Why does he have to smirk everytime you try to throw curses towards him? Why does he have to press those dangerous lips over yours to shut you up?

Why does it feel so good everytime?

Damn him.

Lately, something—someone has been bothering you. A certain hunter from Linkon city who seems to have earn herself some attention from the leader of Onychinus.

You squint your eyes at the memory of their interaction, it was pathetic. He didn't seem to have any hatred for her whatsoever, he even seemed to help her.

Is he really pretending to be the good guy in front of her? Or was it all a facade?

“you're zoning out,” Sylus drawls lazily while tapping a finger on your cheek to bring back your attention to him.

Right, you were trying to kill him, again.

You still had him down against the seat while you were above him, still careful not to perch yourself on his lap. Your index that brushed too closely to the trigger shook even more when his thumb played dangerously close to the trigger, resting right on top of your index finger, and you feel like the air is being taken away from your lungs.

“It seems like this isn't entertaining you anymore,” you shoot him a stare and he raises an eyebrow, “perhaps… miss hunter is being too soft on you.”

You watch at how his eyebrows raise in amusement, he knew he had the upper hand in this situation, and it was clear to him that you did as well.

He noticed your voice change, and how your fingers still trembled against the gun still pointed at his chest. Even in your feigned bravado, you couldn't mask your unease. Too easy.

"My," Sylus' eyes darkened as he looked up at you with the slightest curl of his lips lifting upwards, "Are you.. jealous?”

This is ridiculous, and you feel offended even. “Why the hell would i be jealous of stray cats?” you argue back, and he seems almost pleased by your answer, “atta girl.”

Not being able to handle him anymore, you make the decision to press on the trigger without thinking, that the loud bangcaused you to gasp in fear as you drop the gun from your hand.

So close.

Sylus remained still for a few moments as he glanced to his side at the bullet hole on the seat beside his head.

“You missed.” He stated, like he was disappointed.

“Did you not want me to miss?!”

He smiles, "And spoil the fun? Never." Clearly he was playing with your feelings at this point.

He brought a hand up, his fingers tangling into the messy strands of your hair, pulling firmly enough to tilt your head to the side. His eyes studied your own, his gaze roaming over every part of your expression, trying to figure out what you would do next.

"You should try again." He said lowly, his voice almost a whisper. "Maybe you'll hit me this time.”

You press your lips into a thin line at the proximity between you, and your hands find his shoulders, “you can't die.. yet.”

"Oh, don't you worry, sweetie. I'm not gonna die so easily." He let out a dry laugh as if it was obvious.

"That is, unless you end up killing me.”

The change in your expression didn’t go unnoticed by him, the worry, the concern, the frustration, the anger. It's all so interesting.

His hand left your hair to snake around your waist to finally pull you down on his lap, and that's when he felt your hands come to hold his face so dearly, your eyelashes fluttering between his eyes and lips.

You held him close to you as if he was the only thing that mattered—and he was, really.

You embraced him like you were lovers, like you were holding someone dear in your arms. With your arms looped around his shoulders, to pour all your love into his lips, you always did that whenever you kisses. Always soft, sweet, and slow.

Yet Sylus wanted to return the kiss deeply, his tongue trying to seek yours in a desperate, hungry manner. Like he's never kissed you before.

You part your lips for his tongue to delve further in, exploring every inch of your mouth as if he were trying to memorize the taste, the one he's already used to, but it only seems to be sweeter with each exchanged kiss.

He let out a low moan, feeling completely consumed by you. His hands continued to roam your body, exploring every contour and curve, every dip and valley, as if he was trying to commit you to memory.

You pant softly when his lips leave yours to graze the skin of your jawline and neck, but you tug ay his hair before he could do anything.

“no marks.”

“and why?”

“I can't walk around looking like that—”

Then it hits you, what the hell were you even doing?

You push yourself off him, stumbling slightly back when you stood up abruptly, but you don't reach for the hand that's out for you to balance on.

“This is messed up.” You say your thoughts out loud before you could stop yourself, and your fists clench to your sides.

He leaned forward to follow after you, leaving the warmth of the seat behind him, he then speaks with a tilt of his head, "I'd say what we've been doing is pretty normal for our relationship, wouldn't you?"

You sigh, “normal? What even are we?”

Ah, that question.

"Oh, you know. We’re just enemies with a mutual hatred for each other, who just happen to kiss each other on the regular. Nothing out of the ordinary here, sweetie." His tone dripped with sarcasm, “totally nothing odd here.” you try matching his sarcasm with a glare.

He met your glare with his own gaze, his expression suddenly turning serious.

"Why are you acting like doing this," he gestured between the two of you, "is something completely new? Has it ever occurred to you that doing this may actually feel good?" He paused for a moment, watching your expression twist into confusion, “you say you hate me, but let me ask you this: what do you feel when you're around me? Hate, or something else entirely?”

"I—” you press your lips shut when you realise you don't even know the answer to that. How did he feel about this?

"it feels like a drug yet I can't let go off." You settle with your answer quietly.

He takes a slow step forward, “you make it sound like an addiction, sweetie.”

“it is an addiction.” you confirm bluntly, and his smirk widens further.

“Mm, a drug you can't let go of.”

“A drug i need to let go of.”

He stops at his tracks, "You,” Sylus stares down at you, “think you can just let go of me that easily?" He asked, before moving closer, his body practically looming over yours now, trapping you against the wall. His hand came up to rest on the wall beside your head, his arm caging you in.

You're trapped, with nowhere to go, “i made a mistake, I'll leave—”

“No.” he captured your wrist in a tight grip when you tried making your way out.

Sylus’ grip on your wrist loosened when you winced the first time he grabbed it, his hand shifting down instead to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"You really think I'd just let you walk out that door and never see you again? You must be joking," he scoffs, his tone taking a lower route, and you're surprised.

"You're... you're mine, damnit.”

You blink twice, “since.. when?”

He lets out a sharp exhale, his patience and self-control slowly fading. "Since our first shared kiss," he practically growls out, "you may be a difficult, infuriating, little brat, but goddamnit if you're not mine.”

Sylus can see the range of emotions flickering across your face as you digest his words, those same expressions he always sees, this time, it's all anger and frustration.

"You look like you're about to explode, darling," he says, his voice coming out in a mocking drawl. "Want to shout at me? Let it out. Tell me how much you hate me again, because we both know that's bullshit.”

“it's no—”

“don't even try to lie to me,”

“i hate y—”

“lying, again.”

“Sylus.” You let out sharply, you were getting tired or him cutting you off.

He listens, it doesn't feel too shocking now. You're just.. overwhelmed.

Do you feel like crying? Yes. Do you want to really cry in front of him? No, of course not. But the tears threatening around your eyes is too hard to wipe off now.

And Sylus tenses when he realized the gravity of the situation, he doesn't waste time to lift your chin up. And the sight makes his heart ache abnormally.

“don't,” he whispers softly before taking you in a warm embrace, where your face us pressed against his chest.

You exhale, the hug is genuine, it feels like he's hugging your heart. You wrap you arms back around him, no wonder you always feel your little heart beating around him.

"we're both stubborn, hot-headed, and too proud to back down," He whispers against your hair, “But beloved, i… am sorry if i failed to see your genuine feelings.”

You tighten your arms around him, beloved, you like the sound of that.

You tip your head back up, and you can notice the way his eyes seem to soften… like that one snowy time.

And you lean to peck his lips, it makes him smile before he returns the kiss with a gentle press of his lips onto yours.

…

You mentally agreed with yourself that you would stop at kissing. Only a few kisses here and there… It felt too easy and natural to listen to his whispers

Your eyes rolled back almost every time he nudged against your sweet spot, making your jaw slack, and you don't let go off the hem of his blouse for not even a second with how of a tight hold you had on the fabric.

You would both get like this everytime your emotions were heightened. You crave this, it's a need at this point.

But this time it's different, it doesn't feel like two beasts ravishing eachother, this feels… slow, and romantic.

You both were not even fully undressed.

"Sylus," you whispered breathlessly, followed by a soft whine with how full you felt with the inches buried deep inside you.

spreading your legs even wider, Sylus pushed himself deeper until you took all of him. His hands caressing your trembling thighs, "Feel me, what you do to me." His hips snapped forward in a slow rhythm, grinding against your sensitive clit with each thrust.

Sweat glistened on his skin as he worked you over, oh how tortuous it felt with you clenching around him, your slick walls fluttering and massaging his aching cock. The wet sounds of your skins filled the room, obscene and erotic.

Sylus reveled in it, in the knowledge that he was the one making you break so beautifully.

Leaning in, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your desperate moans. His tongue delved into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as his hips continued their slow rhythm—threatening to just thrust in fast and hard.

Yet he knew better than to ruin the moment.

Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent. "Do you want to cum?" he murmured huskily, his words vibrating against your skin. "I want to feel you come all over my cock." His fingers found your clit, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nub but your hand tries to pry his fingers away, you didn't want this to end just yet.

“Please no, i-i want to feel more of you.. harder.” a plea, and he swears you're going to be the death of him.

"Greedy princess, aren't you? Wanting more of me even when you're already stuffed full." He punctuated his words with a particularly deep thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours. You could feel every thick, hard inch of him buried inside you, stretching you deliciously.

His hands now gripped your hips bruisingly tight as he started to move faster, harder. Just like you wanted, he was only following along.

"I'll give you more, sweetie. I'll fuck you so deep, so hard, you'll feel me for days," Sylus promised with a chuckle, and you arch your back while pulling at the fabric of his blouse, "gonna ruin this pussy until it's molded perfectly to my cock."

True to his word, he picked up the pace, pounding into you relentlessly. And you wanted to scream.

“h-hah, right there—” your head rolled back and your lips stayed parted, your eyes half-lidded and you could barely feel your legs.

Sylus could feel his own release fast approaching, his balls drawing up tight, but he gritted his teeth, holding himself back. He wanted to make you come first, wanted to feel your slick walls spasming around him.

"That's it, sweetie" he panted, “Mmh—ah—!” and you cry out when you came, it felt different, you feel wetter than before, you just squirted without even realising from how fucked out your head was.

Sylus groaned as he felt you gushing all over his crotch, your body quivering and quaking in the throes of your intense orgasm. "Fuuuck, that's it my love, let it all out," he rasped, continuing to thrust into your fluttering heat as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

As your climax subsided, leaving you boneless and panting, Sylus slowed his thrusts but didn't stop. He rolled his hips in deep, languid strokes, savoring the feeling of your slick walls clenching around his throbbing length.

Sylus drank in your needy whimpers and moans with messy kisses this time, “I love you," he babbled, and you barely comprehend what he had just said.

And with a final thrust, Sylus buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside you. He groaned long and low, his hips twitching with each spurt of his release into you.

You both gaze into eachother's eyes after calming down, your eyes trying to search for the love in them.

“what are you starting at?” You mumble first, breaking the silence. He caresses your cheek at first, “etching your face in my head.” His answer was simple, yet it meant too much to you.

“Did you mean it?” You can't help but ask, “when you said you.. love me?”

Sylus’ lips spread before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “i love you.” He whispered his declaration of love to you quietly for the second time.

[catiuskaa]

i would LOVE to read your vision of boyfriend by dove cameron....... but w minsung x reader 😏

OH MARSYYYY marsyyyy ajdbkskfla youuu how dare youu take my sleep away from me like thisssss kabfoqbfoskj i barely got to 300 words and i was like “yup. there’s no fucking way i’m not writing this.” so @lyramundana @stayconnecteed, pasarla muy bien mis amores bskdbakd id a la iglesia después

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄-𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒.

sum. gentlemen like them make for a better boyfriend, and minho and han will let you know as soon as you come over… they know first times pave the way for more.

yes, the cursive makes a cute lil sentence, kill me

wc. 5.6k (me cago en todo mars)

cw. suggestive, smut! cursive: a lifestyle, the restaurant scene came out really high-class? fem!reader x dom!simp!minho x sub!needy!jisung, the reader is cheating on her boyfriend, so many things happen (praise, degradation, hair pulling, thigh riding, dry humping, oral fixation, marking, mild choking, corruption kink, use of pet names, accidental orgasm denial, oral (f rec.), begging, fingering (f&m rec.) dirty talk, overstim, mild bondage, unprotected piv sex [don't!<3], creampie, breeding kink, dacryphilia). holy shit this is nasty man, aftercare (mandatory) and just have fun lovelies <3<3<3

[🎀 ☆ 🍽️ ☆ 🎀]

Minho has to breathe in, slowly as he smiles, a cat-like grin that has already threatened many people’s hearts, grabbing Jisung’s wrist and pulling him a bit closer.

His company that night —his company forever, if anyone bothered to ask or wanted to know— doesn’t ask why, merely tilts his head, watching, waiting.

“Twelve o’clock. Red and white dress.”

It’s a mumble that the older man makes with his eyes half closed, yet he opens them again after a beat of silence. He grunts, a low, whispered voice, not daring to interrupt the shy flow of music in the fine restaurant, but still takes Han’s chin in his hand, gripping it softly and tilting it a bit further to his left.

“That’s more like one o’clock— oh.” Minho doesn’t dare voice nor even question the way blood rushes to the deepest parts of his body when Jisung licks his lips and stares back at him, lowering his hand with a gentle touch that sets his skin ablaze.

He can’t help but let his eyes trail towards your figure again. The dress you’re wearing, a mix of colours that gingerly combines with that of their own suits, that clings to your shape in a way that threatens his own sanity and the stability of their plan, the impulse of running to you head first wondering what the crash would feel like. He stops himself, and breathes in again, deeper this time in an attempt to stop wondering how the dress would look just a few floors over them, in their hotel room, preferably on the floor, and he finally does, catching the faint scent of Jisung’s new cologne.

Alone. It’s funny to him. Ridiculous, yes, because only a fool would leave such a beauty like you in a situation like that —on your own, waiting in boredom close to death, or even worse, resignation—, and he’s sure that if he were in your place, he would’ve left a while ago. Hell, if he ever pulled something like that, he’d allow for Jisung to choke him —in a non-sexual sense, at least for once—, but he can’t help feeling giddy at the empty sight of the chair in front of you. Almost as if you were waiting for them to get close, to take a seat. And then, maybe you’d smile. Like a little treat.

A cute gift.

The image makes him smirk as he licks his lips. Minho knows he’d wrap you up in a heartbeat.

“What do you think?” He ponders the question lowly, still waiting for the waiter as the restaurant prepares their table. The one next to you, of course.

Jisung’s eyes widen for a moment. “What do I think?”

He gulps, and Minho reels in the way his boyfriend is already blushing, the red dust on his cheeks making him think twice and wonder if he could afford having a little snack before properly taking you both as a dessert, and he can’t help but snicker, tonguing his cheek.

“What are the chances?”

Minho’s fingers stroke Jisung’s palm.

“Well, I did as we agreed. And now the plan follows, jagi. I’m sure you can play your part now, mmh?” His voice is sultry, low, and a whisper, one that deepens Han’s blush and darkens his eyes even further, making his breath hitch to Minho’s amusement. “As if you can’t do whatever you want with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“Min—”

“Welcome.” The whispered whine that Jisung had been just about to say dies on his lips, as tragically —yet not quite as brutally— as the unfortunate and inopportune waiter in Minho’s head.

“Your party for two is ready. Come with me.”

Shrugging away the comment ‘with you here, no one’s coming’, Minho follows behind Han and nods his head after being pointed to his table.

White-collar thieves could have plenty of money and exotic pairs of jewelry. Take any gemstone, for example. In unknown eyes, it may seem flawlessly perfect, but that’s merely a refracted illusion. Its core, deep in there, remains a secret, and it’d take a good crack for it to be seen.

No, this couple had it clear. A thief could steal anything but achieve nothing. And as Minho sends his partner in crime a wink, and the plan finally starts, its gears already set in place, he knows that whatever the outcome of it might end up being, nothing would give a better reward than trying to steal you tonight.

And it all starts with a silly trip of his boyfriend’s foot.

Jisung’s hand saves him from ending head first against your thighs —did he really save himself, Minho wonders, because the thought sounded like heaven—, and he watches as the younger one rushes back up, an apologetic grin on his face that he had seen so many times before and still made him want to kneel in front of Jisung and worship him to death and beyond.

“Sorry,” Ji smiles, bashful, his little dimples showing. He pretends to cringe, an action only Minho can see through.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. Are you alright?” The genuine worry that slips through your tone softens the men.

“Of course. Yes.” Jisung chimes right back. “Such a kind lady.” He grins, pulling his hand in front of him.

Minho is just watching, and the feeling of witnessing such a moment nearly has him bulging in his tailored pants as shy little Jisung kisses the back of your hand.

He can’t believe how obsessed they both are with you, enthralled at the mere thought of having you closer, and he doesn’t care, needing more, more of your confused smile as you stare at his boyfriend, more of the gentle blush that creeps up to your cheeks, more of the way your hair is neatly tied up and away from your face, feeling the impulse to ruin you on the tip of his fingers.

“What’s a place like this doing, surrounding a beauty such as yours?” Minho smiles, taking a seat at his table. Calm. Mindful. With the plan in his head.

You chuckle so politely that it makes Minho fidget with his rings, a laugh so melodic that tickles his heart and warms his insides.

“I stay in this hotel.” Minho knows. He’s seen you before.

“Alone?” Jisung smiles, a bit cheeky, sitting and moving his chair at an angle, making it easier to keep the conversation going.

The way you sigh makes them both angry and giddy. They had seen your partner before, and they almost couldn’t believe their eyes, genuinely wondering what had the ugly man done to deserve such an angel. If it were for them, not for too long.

“Up until twenty minutes ago, I wasn’t, but…”

Crystal clear. They both can see the resignation in your eyes, and Minho can’t help but feel it trail up his skin, needing to do something about it immediately.

“I know it may seem too straightforward,” his mouth is dry and he can feel his ears turning red. “But I wouldn’t mind the extra company tonight. Right, jagi?”

The smile he shoots at Jisung is soft and sweet, feelings conveyed between layers and layers worth of things he hasn’t said yet. A comforting grin that Ji matches, holding his hand from below the table and giving it a light squeeze, catching it.

“Yes. It’d be a pity, using that wonderful dress on such a dull night.” His boyfriend turns to you, smiling widely. “Join us?”

God, yes. The squirm of satisfaction that threatens to leave past his lips has him fidgeting with his fingers, cracking his knuckles in an oh-so-giddy attempt to hide just how excited he is when he sees you stand up and grin sheepishly, moving your chair and settling on their table.

If one tried and overthinked it too much, it wouldn’t work. People tend to feel those kinds of things, the rush, the nervousness, the desperation. Not attractive on a stranger in the slightest. And Minho knows he’s one lucky bastard just getting to sit with you at the same table, sharing sentences with Jisung across the rounded table with just a blink and a cheeky stare through his lashes.

And as the night goes on, sneaky glances, touches, soft hands over yours, their eyes deep in colour, on you as you wine and dine, the white-collar thieves swiftly steal your heart for the night.

A fever dream. You find no other way to word it, how they get under your skin and into your head, how their cheeky antics keep getting you closer and closer in a way that almost baffles you. You can’t even think about that sad excuse of a boyfriend you have when Jisung’s hand brushes your arm again or when Minho’s eyes lock on yours, almost undressing you under his gaze.

You couldn’t call it a red flag. After all, their collars are pure white.

[🎀 ☆ 🍽️ ☆ 🎀]

Jisung can’t hold back any longer.

He opens the door to their hotel room for you, and in an unrestrained need, grabs your wrist and finally pulls you to him.

Minho smirks, closing the door with a thud by leaning on it, watching as his boyfriend ruins and smears your lipstick, giving it just a bit before he pulls him from the back of his shirt, tutting at him.

“Such a needy little slut, mmh? Couldn’t even wait for me?”

His hands thread on Jisung’s hair, pulling in a way that has him already on edge. Minho takes his blazer off under the eager eyes of his company, and also takes Ji’s red one, leaving both on the couch that sits in the corner of the room as he licks his lips and takes his hands to his boyfriend’s neck, kissing him deeply, hungrily, humming a snicker when he feels his cheeky little hands tugging and pulling on his white shirt.

“Brat.” He whispers on his lips. “We have to treat our guest first, don’t we, jagi?”

Heat pools on your lower belly, disarmed as the two gorgeous, disheveled men stare at you with a glow in their eyes so deep it could fuck you alone. Both stare at the other with a sly grin on their faces, the phrases they want to say hidden behind the opacity of their eyes, clouded in lust.

Cheekily, Minho grabs Jisung by his belt, speaking at mere inches away from his lips.

“Be a good boy and hang on the door the do not disturb sign, mmh?” His eyes trail from Han’s neck, reeling on his heavy breathing and how his big brown eyes flutter when his hand teases him, tickling his skin with a brush of his fingers, doing tender and slow motions, opening the lower buttons on his shirt and going down his happy trail.

Jisung only nods weakly, in a daze as Minho lets go of him, blinking slowly and letting out a playful chuckle when he teasingly smacks his ass as he makes his way to the door.

“Now, what do we have here?”

Your throat feels dry and you yearn for the moment in which you’ll finally drown in Minho’s lips. He can tell, approaching you slowly, his steps barely making a sound on the carpet below.

His hands brush away the few hairs that Ji got loose, his hand traveling from the shell of your ear to just a bit after your pulse point. “Such a beauty.” Your heart swoons as he whispers, something that sounds more for him than for you, which does nothing but worsen the situation below your dress.

Licking your lips, you watch as he leisurely sits on the edge of the bed, two fingers teasingly making a ‘come hither’ motion as he spreads his legs, making space for you between them, his tailored clothing hugging his lush thighs in a way that nearly makes you salivate.

“I won’t bite, gorgeous. Not unless you want me to,” he teases, his hands stroking your knees while he sits just a short step or two away from you.

The sentence not only makes you shiver in anticipation, but also makes a small part of you wonder if there could be anything you wouldn’t let these men do to you. Dare I say non-existent, the list seems to be pretty short, as you nibble on your lip and answer to how he pats his thigh, taking a seat.

“There we go.” He grins with a low hum, his hands traveling far past the fabric that covers your thighs, grabbing and kneading the skin under his grasp. “Wonder how long it has passed since you’ve been treated right.” He clicks his tongue. “We have to do something about it, don’t we, jagi?”

He’s talking to Jisung as if you weren’t there. As if they’re taking you, a pretty diamond gingerly falling into their white-gloved hands, and —make no mistake—, you’re letting them, and it’s the end of the story, because you’d be a fool not to.

Besides, it’s already too late to back down. You want this. You couldn’t care less of what happens to your boyfriend after he left and scurried back wherever, attempting to leave you with the burden of paying for everything again without having to deal with the consequences nor the guts to face you. He was going to have a fun time, arriving at your previously shared room and finding that your things had been already packed and you were no longer anywhere to be seen, leaving behind you not only the bill of the restaurant —both his and yours, and then the one you had with Minho and Jisung, of course, an autograph on the receipt and all— but of the entire week you had been abroad, for all the times he had been tricking you and pulling your leg.

Tonight, you weren’t just being stolen. You were being freed.

“What makes you tick? Mmh, gorgeous?” Minho gets you back from your mind, naughty hands traveling underneath your dress and playing with the back ends of your underwear.

He’s dying to kiss you, and he will —he will die trying and he’d be happy to do so—, and he can see it in your eyes that you want just as much, the dark of his reading yours with an ease that does nothing but aggravate the situation, knowing that if he were to kiss you as he had been thinking —ever since he and Jisung had seen you and your boyfriend— would cause you more things than neither you nor him could process, leaving both of your minds blank, wet, legs tangled with one another.

Minho cherishes the way you tremble in his grasp, feeling Jisung’s hands surprise you from behind, playing with the zipper of your white and red dress.

“Baby, you’re already grinding on my thigh.” It’s teasing, it’s a menace, and he fucking loves it, seeing how said sentence darkens both your and Han’s eyes. “What are you thinking, mmh? Want us to figure you out as we go?” He licks his timidly swollen lips, his hands traveling down your legs to take your heels off, discarding the red sole shoes by the end of the bed.

He kisses Jisung over your shoulder, and a moan leaves your lips when said motion —him moving forward, that is— makes him tense his thigh underneath you.

“Jagi, do me a favour.” He whispers on his boyfriend’s lips, next to your ear, as if he’s telling Han a secret you shouldn’t know —but you don’t care whether you should or shouldn’t. You’re already going to hell for cheating on that low-life you call a boyfriend. Could be the wine speaking, or how your pussy is already leaking, but if you’re going to hell, you’ll make it so that these fine gentlemen help you reach heaven first.

“Ladies first, okay? Let’s treat her how a princess deserves.”

Jisung’s eyes smile as he bites Minho’s lip, finally taking your dress off of you, lowering the zipper in a way that his hand strokes your skin as the dress goes further down, and doesn’t stop kissing him, even when his greedy hands take the dress off your shoulders, and travel forward, tickling you menacingly, from your belly to your chest, teasingly playing with the little bow that decorates your white bra before letting his fingers go further up your cleavage.

Minho’s hands move your hips against his thigh, starting to feel the wetness and warmth not only on the fabric between his leg and your sweet sweet core, but on his skin.

He chuckles, panting on your ear as Jisung’s lips hungrily travel to your back, kissing and scratching with his teeth. A man blinded crazy by lust, his hand finally reaching your neck.

The way the action makes you moan is almost obscene, your cheeks as red as Jisung’s forgotten blazer and trousers. His grasp, gingerly cold, as if the rest of his warmth was traveling to other parts of his body —parts you weren’t complaining to be feeling against your lower back—, was a little bit over your collarbone, and it drove you wild.

“Hyung—” It’s a whine so desperate that nearly has him crumbling apart. Jisung’s eyes are teary when Minho’s lock into the dark brown full of lust that they have turned to. Merely pecking his lips, Minho smiles.

“I’m going to eat you alive.” It’s a desperate groan, and his partner’s eyes only glow in a darker shimmer, as if he yearned for just that. “Go on, jagi. Have fun.”

Before you can expect it, Jisung lets out a moan, grabbing your waist and pulling you from Minho onto the bed. Your impending release gets ruined, and you whine, your hand unconsciously traveling to your face.

As the younger one hurriedly finishes taking your dress off of you, discarding it somewhere on the floor —a view that, later on, would make Minho grin cheekily— said gentleman moves and lays down next to you while his partner leaves hickeys all over your inner thighs.

Only pants, whines, and moans leave your lips, low and dimmed, overwhelmed by all that you’re feeling, hiding behind your hand. But they’re gentlemen, after all. Ever-so-observant, Minho’s smile is sweet when he takes your hand and interlinks your fingers.

“Beauty,” he calls, his voice sultry. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

It takes a shy, confused shake from you for him to tut at his boyfriend, and Han stops his antics, licking his lips, his eyes glowing as he strokes your thighs, gingerly comforting you out of your daze.

“Like a traffic light, yeah? Green for when you want to keep going, yellow when you want to slow down, and red if you want to stop.” His hand softly moves, trailing soft motions on your cheek. “Don’t wait for us to ask. If we’re playing the figure-it-out game, I want to hear you moaning ‘green’ every single minute. Good?” You blush, nodding. “So. Colour?”

You give it a thought. You’ve brought up things like this before to your boyfriend. Things he shamed you for. Things you had been wanting to do for a while. And as you stare back at Minho, his eyes widen for a moment when he sees you smirking lightly.

To hell and heaven with it. It had been a close call before, back at the hotel’s restaurant. It’s stupid now, and you can’t believe you almost ran away back to your room and wasted such a divinely given chance like this one.

“Green.” You smile. “Figure me out better than I know myself.”

Jisung’s mind is completely foggy and hazy, his hands kneading your thighs, waiting, panting at your sudden forwardness. He can barely form a coherent thought, his mind consumed by the need to keep going until your taste is all that he knows.

You lift yourself, sitting on the bed, as the focus of the two men’s attention while your hand reaches for Jisung’s chin, and he’s dead. He’s gotta be, because as he moves to keep feeling your soft grasp on him, he swears he stops breathing.

“I’m going to kiss you.” It’s an announcement. Not quite a question but a warning, a narration of sorts. It keeps Minho waiting for a movement, something, whatever, anything to be able to follow what they had started, surprised by the newfound shimmer in your eyes.

And you can only confirm the whole chain of unbridled thoughts that haunt you —that you want to devour them with kisses, that you would let them eat you whole, unashamed, unrestrained, and overly needy— when, after closing your eyes, you erase any space that was between your lips and Jisung’s.

It’s not the butterflies in your stomach, but your own pulse rumbling in your ears, so loud that you think that either of the two men to whom you knew crystal clear that you were going to give yourself to tonight could hear it without making any sort of effort.

Nasty, desperate, wild. Jisung is gone, set on making any trace of red lush lipstick disappear from your lips. He starts kissing you more passionately, taking both of his hands to your nape, pulling on your hair in an attempt to get you even closer to him, the need for oxygen merely a necessity far less important than to keep kissing you and lick away your strawberry lipstick.

“This is crazy,” you pant, gasping for air.

“You make me crazy.”

He’s breathless, and he just can’t stop kissing you. Not when you’re giving yourself back to him with almost the same intensity, the raw need for more overperforming any sort of kissing skills that Jisung thought he had before. Matter of fact, he can’t think. Not when his hands travel from your waist, your skin like a canvas he’d die to keep marking, trailing a teasing path up your back, making you shiver until he finally undoes the barrier that keeps him from touching, and finally tasting —licking, spitting, marking, fondling, kissing, biting, better if it’s all at the same time— your breasts. He swiftly takes your bra off of you, as if it burns. It would’ve made you laugh, but as he cages you against the mattress the only thing you can do is moan.

Yes. Yes. Yes, More. Please. Don’t stop.

There’s a light bounce of the mattress when Minho takes a seat behind you, and Han whines when you leave his lips.

You’re a mess. There’s no other way to describe it, and Minho loves it. He loves how you’re in between Jisung and him. How you’re drooling and moaning, your head leaning against his shoulder as greedy little Hannie goes back to where he was heading before. He loves how you’re not holding back anymore, your right hand pulling on his boyfriend’s hair and your right one on his nape, gingerly playing with it as you squirm under the pleasure that Ji’s mouth brings you.

“Beauty,” Minho’s voice is impossibly low when he calls for you, pressing soft, tender kisses on your pulse point. You whine, a strained ‘yeah?’ that kills him. “How do we feel about this?”

You open your eyes, not really aware when you had closed them, and you look at Minho’s soft hands, his rings shimering under the room’s indirect light. It’s a lace, your fuzzy brain tells you. It has the words Dior written several times on it.

“G-green…” it’s a whine, it’s slurry, and it turns to a hitched breath when Han’s fingers slide inside you with ease, curling and thrusting until you can’t do anything else but moan and whine, trembling as you come, pleasure hitting you in waves.

You cling onto Minho like a rock, as much as you can, his body behind you stroking you in a way that makes you shiver while Ji helps you ride out your high.

“Look at him, princess.”

His tone is slightly mean, and you sigh, feeling his arms surround you.

“He came just from tasting you.”

You’re still a bit out, panting, but your eyes turn to him, whose head is leaning on your thigh. One of your hands moves to stroke his hair, and you grow hotter watching how he shudders for a second.

“He was grinding against the mattress. Like a little horny slut.”

It’s shameful. Minho’s tone is one for mocking. He’s… torturing him. And yet he looks like he might just come one more time from that alone.

“M-min…” Hannie whimpers, a slurred sound of pleasure.

“Oh, beauty. He even wants more.” Jisung’s eyes open, staring at you two from below, and he moans.

You blink, but slowly, you seem to get it. Or, if you asked Jisung, you were a godess sent straight-out from heaven.

“But can he… beg like a… a pretty slut?”

Minho nearly comes untouched at your tone. The way they’re already corrupting you, how you’re degrading Jisung already, watching how he’s unconciously grinding against the mattress again, overstimulating himself.

“Ngh, fuck… p-princess…” his hands travel to your thighs, clinging to them like a lifeline.

You’re unsure of what to do, because you know what to say, holding back for a second.

“Beauty,” Minho kisses your neck. “What’s that brain of you thinking, mmh?”

Your blush covers your whole face, and you smile, as if you’ve been caught on a white lie.

“I… want to, um. Want you to do to him what you did to me.”

Jisung freezes in his place. Minho’s eyes darken. “Keep talking, beauty. Spare no detail.”

Your shyness fades as you look at Ji’s face, reeling at how he moans softly, his body just a tiny bit spent, yet he’s paying close attention to you and your words, not wanting to stop even for a second. The intensity of his stare makes heat hit you, unexpected yet welcomed. 

And with hooded eyes and weak legs, you turn to face both Minho and Jisung, letting go of what you’re thinking without giving yourself the chance to second guess it. 

“I want you to finger him. While you fuck me. And then I want him to fuck me.” 

Perplexed. There are little to no words Minho can manage to say, if any. He knows that he’s a sentence away from losing himself completely to the sensation, your mind and body now completely under the control of the aphrodisiac that is their company and undivided attention, and the intense pleasure it induces. 

“Hyung.” Han’s eyes are teary, and he looks so pretty. 

Why would Minho resist?

He takes you by your wrists and pulls you towards him, kissing you in a way that makes your mind and body completely submissive and compliant. There it is. Minho is finally kissing you, claiming you with each stroke of his tongue. And now he holds no restraint, his hands exploring your body, his touch becoming more urgent and passionate with each moan that goes past your swollen, kissable lips. 

His body presses even harder against yours, pinning you against the mattress as he kisses you deeply, his lips and tongue tracing a path down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Minho bites down gently on the sensitive skin of your collarbone, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he continues his assault on your senses, his desire for you growing more and more intense.

He moans softly into the kiss, his hands wandering along your body, his touch hungry, as if he couldn't get enough of you —and he can’t, he’s well aware that you might be his last meal, and he’d be happy about it— grabbing and marking and touching all he can reach. He breaks the kiss briefly, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your sensitive skin as he pants heavily, his voice low and hoarse with desire.

"You're driving me crazy, beauty," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with lust. "Can't get enough."

“Minho, please,” you whine and beg, shivering when he stands on his knees, looking at you from above, a dark, nasty shimmer in his eyes. 

He pushes Jisung next to you, face down ass up, which only makes the latter moan, desperate to be touched again. 

“You know what, beauty?” Minho grins, mad, crazy, horny, and all of the above, as he takes back the Dior lace and softly moves your hands over your head, making a pretty bow on your wrists, almost as pretty as his needy princess. He’s thankful Jisung wanted to buy that perfume. 

“I’m going to fuck you. Because you want to, don’t you, beauty?” His snicker brings heat to your whole body, and it hits you where you’re restrained, Minho’s hands pinching and teasing all over your torso, watching you crumble and whimper underneath him. “And I’m going to make him come too. You two want to be used like little toys, and it’s just what I’m about to do.” 

He bends down to reach for the lube in the bedside table, but uses that opportunity to meanily bite your cheek. It feels warm under his tongue, the skin red, not only from the teasing bite but from how deep you’re blushing. 

Minho keeps talking while he slowly removes your ruined panties and Jisung’s soiled underwear. 

“I’ll fuck you so good, beauty. So good you won’t ever feel the same, if you fuck that scum you call a boyfriend. I’ll make you come so hard you won’t even remember his name.” 

You don’t know what happens first, but surely, Jisung and you start whining and moaning, panting as Minho fails to keep a steady pace on both of you, his thrusts irregular as pleasure takes hold of him. 

He’s reeling in pleasure, whispering into your ear in between moans and grunts how good you feel, how tight your pretty little pussy clenches around him, how you’re going to milk him dry as he keeps pouncing on you. “If y-you, ever, ever, ever doubt who you belong to…” he moans, watching you cry in pleasure, listening to Hannie’s slurred babbling, failing to get a good grip on the bed sheets. “Remember… that you can always come back… princess…”

After all, his duty as a thief wasn’t only stealing. He wasn’t going to complain when he’d kill for you to sit on his face. Just for starters. 

It doesn’t take long for Jisung to come on his own palm, shivering in pleasure, panting, but smiling at you, and —with his other hand— grabbing yours while you moan and whine and whimper, so close once again. 

T-too much— Don’t stop. Yes, yes, please!

Moaning so beautifully, Minho crumbles. His words are slurred as he whines, something about filling you up that makes you see stars as he somehow thrusts even deeper.

“There, there, ah… f-fuck, I can’t…” 

Dazed, fucked-out, drunk and lost in pleasure, you’re only able to let out louder sounds, tugging at your restraint as the Dior bow keeps you grounded, and Jisung’s now clean hand —you missed when that happened, yet you’re not bothered enough to question it— presses figure eights on your clit. And not even a minute later, you’re both gasping and moaning, and you throw your head back as he comes inside of you. 

It takes a moment for the three of you to move. For a minute, the world stops spinning, and you relish the warmth of his bodies, next and over you, your head still fuzzy with pleasure. 

You and Minho whine when he pulls out, and you shiver at the loss of heat over you and the emptiness inside you. Jisung is quick to fix the first one, softly moving your head over to his shoulder, and he leans his chin over yours. 

“Hey, princess.” He still has a red hue on his cheeks, but you’re pretty sure you’re matching, if not worse. 

You hum, weak, and he can’t help but giggle. His soft hands cradle your face, and he sighs, stroking your nose with his tenderly. 

“I’m really happy you joined us tonight.” 

And with the strength you have left, you merely move to kiss his palm, your eyes closed. They remain closed when Minho comes back, even when he softly moves your arms and links them behind his nape. 

Han heads into the bathroom first, making sure the water of the bathtub is warm enough before sliding inside, helping Minho put you down, leaning your head against Ji’s shoulder and in between his legs. 

You’re half asleep, but you smile when Minho’s hands stroke your legs. Your legs feel sore and you’re a blink away from the best sleep of your life, but first, the best night of your life makes sure to take care of you after all the fun. 

Two pairs of hands clean up the mess they turned you to, and you’re so happy to be taken care of as sweetly and as gently as they are doing, that you weakly peck Minho and Jisung’s lips. 

No words are needed, and Jisung hugs you from behind, pressing soft kisses on your shoulder blades. Minho links his hand with yours, fondly staring at the two of you before him. 

Thieves like Han and Minho are masters in their craft. With professional care, they dry your body, tender touches fully lulling you to sleep when Jisung grabs one of the discarded white-collared shirts and gingerly closes its buttons. Bathed, spent, and tired, they settle you in between them, with your back to Minho, and Jisung kisses his boyfriend’s hand, covering all of you with the bed’s blanket. 

Sure, maybe you didn’t do all that you wanted that night. But you don’t mind it. Warm, clean, and thoroughly satisfied, you’re fine with the need that hits you even after you wake up. You want to be theirs so much, and despite the estrangement, it’s a fact that doesn’t change —not even after it dawns on you that neither you nor them introduced themselves, and you don’t know their names.

[🎀 ☆ 🍽️ ☆ 🎀]

kats, who needs a high —infinite, even— dose of grass, stat.

catiuskaa, august 2024 ©

[lordprettyflackotara]

deja vu || hoodie

‘do you get deja vu?’

sum: after waking up you find a mysterious man in your room, one that feels eerily familiar. you can’t deny that you know him somehow, nor can you deny your attraction to him

tw: smut minors dni 18+, hair pulling, humiliation, murder, roughness

a/n: kinda really proud of this concept

Boom!!

You sat straight up in your bed, heart pounding as your soaked in the remnants of the sound. Across the room was your window, your thin curtains failing to conceal the storm raging outside. You rubbed your temple, shaking off a cold sweat you had developed. Thunder storms always made you nervous. You sighed, your eyes scanning your dark room. You weren’t afraid of the dark. That’s what you always told yourself anyway. You were afraid of what was lurking in it.

With an out stretched arm your fingertips found your desk lamp, clicking the switch. The lamp illuminated the room, your eyes widening in terror as your gaze landed on an ominous intruder. He sat man spreading in your rocking chair, tucked away in the corner of your room. A black ski mask with a poorly stitched set of red eyes and frown stared back at you, a mustard yellow hoodie concealing the rest of his defining features. You could see the muddy footprints his boots left on your floor starting from your bedroom door. You gulped nervously, tugging at your comforter to cover yourself more.

“W-Who are you?” You sputtered. The man shifted in the chair, as if he was studying you. He was mysterious and a misty memory at the same time. “Call me Hoodie,” He responded, his voice deep and rough. You stared at him dumbfounded, at a loss for words. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Hoodie chuckled, as if your terror was amusement. You straightened out your back, giving him a look so nasty you swore it could kill. “What? No. Why are you in my house?” You asked boldly. Hoodie rolled his sleeves up, revealing his toned arms. “I was in the neighborhood,” He shrugged carelessly. You found the courage to get out of bed, running out of the room. You were anything but graceful, your footsteps audible as you stumbled down the stairs.

You were almost to the bottom, when a strong set of hands shoved you. You didn’t have time to process it, gasping as you helplessly fell to the bottom of the stairwell. Groaning in pain you tried to crawl, Hoodie’s straddling you and pinning you down against the floor. You could feel his crotch against your exposed ass, regrettably attempting to run in a skimpy victoria’s secret night gown. “I love it when you run, it’s always so cute,” Hoodie purred. His fingers raked themselves through your hair, yanking your head off of the floor. “You’re going to give into me, you always do sweetheart,” He cooed. He snickered at your thrashing, attempting to crawl away. “I don’t know you, you’re a fuckin psycho!” You screeched, desperately clawing at the wooden floorboards. You whimpered under him yanking at your hair once more, bringing you closer to him.

“I know you better than you know yourself. I know how to make you cum in under a minute. I know where you hide your vibrator. I know what your deepest darkest secrets are. I’m a shadow you can’t escape,” Hoodie growled. You became panicked, your heart pounding against your ribcage as you struggled to breathe. “Awe sweetheart don’t panic, i’m here to please you,” He grinned, grinding against your ass. You audibly gasped, unsure how to process your body responding to him willingly. It was as if you had felt him dozens of times before, if not more. He reeked of tobacco and cologne, his musk flooding your nostrils. It seemed so familiar.

“Who are you?” You whispered, questioning him again. Hoodie sensed this, releasing your hair. “I’m your non traditional guardian angel sweetheart,” Hoodie grunted. He lifted himself off of you, allowing you to climb to your feet. Your gaze remained on the floor, claw marks that were older clawed into the wood. You narrowed your eyes, realizing you hadn’t made those. They were too far away, you wouldn’t have been able to make them. The sound of a lighter flickering snatched your attention, Hoodie shamelessly lighting a cigarette. “You can’t smoke in here,” You hissed, slapping his arm. Hoodie chuckled, tilting his head back. It was then he shoved off his ski mask, carelessly tossing it aside.

Dozens of lives you swore you could’ve lived before washed over you, your head beginning to spin. Unsurely you rose your hand, reaching out to him. Your fingertips grazed his stubble, his chapped lips ones you remembered somehow. But how? “Are you real?” You whispered. You cupped his cheek, Hoodie staring down at you slightly. “Probably more real than you,” He whispered back. He extended his hand, offering you his cigarette. You waved it away, cringing at the smell. “I don’t smoke,” You declined. Hoodie found this amusing, taking another hit. “Yeah you do. Try it,” He insisted. You crossed your arms defensively, unintentionally pushing your breast together. “What do I get if I do?” You countered. A smirk creeped across Hoodie’s lips, your attention temporarily mesmerized as he exhaled out of his nostrils. “You hit that and cough, i’ll go. If you don’t though, you’ll give me what I want,” He purred.

Goosebumps trailed across your skin at the sound of his words, causing you to swallow.

“And what is it you want?”

“You.”

The confession created a heavy pause in the room, your head spinning. If you agreed to this silly game, you’d get this invasive intruder out of your house without a fight. If you didn’t, you doubted you’d be able to successfully call the police this time. You couldn’t recall smoking a cigarette in your entire life. You knew you were going to cough. Hesitantly you grabbed the cigarette from him, instinctively placing it between your two fingers. You unsurely placed it to your lips, inhaling deeply. To your surprise the tobacco was like a big hug, something you relished in. You could feel it swirl around your lungs, before exhaling it. A mere tickle in your throat was no where in sight.

“W-What the hell?” You whispered, staring at the cigarette. Hoodie grinned mischievously, taking the cigarette back. “What’d I tell you? Now bend over,” He barked. A normal person in your shoes would’ve been scared. They would’ve been terrified, scrambling to escape. Yet something about Hoodie felt so familiar and you couldn’t deny the way his orders sent pleasure right to your core. You couldn’t explain it, feeling an odd sense of deja vu as you crawled onto the couch, arching your ass into the air. Heat dashed across your cheeks as the AC brushed against your skin, goosebumps arising. Hoodie’s gloved hand met the mounds of your ass, an unseen satisfied smirk growing across his face. “So beautiful. So obedient. You always end up listening to me,” He murmured, mostly to himself. He took another drag of his cigarette, carelessly pulling your panties down.

It was embarrassing how wet you were, all for a man who broke into your home. He dragged two fingers up your slick, teasing you. “So wet for a stranger, interesting,” Hoodie chuckled. His cigarette hung lazily from his lips as he spread open the mounds of your ass, admiring your holes. “So pretty. My pretty girl,” He hummed. It was odd, hearing his words that you swore you had somehow heard time and time again. You whimpered at the sound of his belt clinking, one of his thick fingers welcoming itself into your aching cunt. “Just as tight as always. You always out do yourself,” He mumbled, exploring your cunt. You swallowed in embarrassment, in disbelief your body was reacting to him as if he were an old friend. He quickly removed his singular digit, his shaft teasingly rubbing up and down your slick.

“You wanna know my favorite thing about you sweetheart?” Hoodie asked, his tip rubbing against your clit. You shuddered at the sensation, embarrassed of how easily your body gave in to him. “You’re always so easy to slide right into. It’s like you were made for me,” He gloated. A protest was on the tip of your lips, a gasp escaping them instead as he slid into you with ease. You had never been so wet before, your gummy walls eagerly accepting his cock as he sank into you. You were in disbelief, unable to comprehend the way your body adored his. Hoodie grunted as he bottomed out, his gloved hands gripping your waist. Sheepishly you buried your face into the couch cushion, a groan escaping your lips unwillingly. “Does it feel good sweetheart?” He asked, taking a proper inhale of his cigarette. He stayed inside of you for a moment, allowing you to feel him fully. When you didn’t respond Hoodie frowned, delivering a sharp slap to your ass.

You didn’t recognize the sinful moan that left your lips.

“Answer me.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows you refused to glance at him. “It feels good,” You replied, humiliated. Hoodie was gleaming with pride beginning to move his hips to fuck you properly. He was anything but gentle, fucking you as if you were the last woman on earth. It was as if he was determined to pull as many noises out of you as possible. Embarrassed at your own noises you bit your bottom lip, unable to conceal them. Someway somehow your body liked this. It liked being fucked by an intruder with an attitude problem. Your hands clawed at the couch as he abused your g spot, destroying your cunt the way he pleased. Grunts and curses left his lips like a mantra. All teasing and degrading had subsided, his focus completely shifted and occupied on his own high.

Your perky nipples rubbed against the rough leather of the couch, your hand slithering down to your neglected clit. It was apparent to you Hoodie was in this for his orgasm alone, no matter what he said. Not only was it embarrassing for you to be bent over like this, taking a strangers dick. But it was even more humiliating you wanted to get off just as much as he did. Your fingers were shaky as they circled your clit, your moans now more loud and unhinged. Hoodie thrust showed no sign of stopping, even after he carelessly tossed his cigarette bud aside. The smell and sound of sex clouded the room, completely flooding your senses as you took him. “Thats it. Good fuckin’ slut, takin’ me like a whore,” Hoodie grunted, snapping you out of your daze. Your body was a slave to the pleasure, addicted to the high only this intruder seemed to give you.

The knot in your stomach tightened, your body shaking as you approached your high. You had never felt this way before, so turned on. You were addicted to the feeling, as if Hoodie had just provided you with the best heroin ever produced. “I feel the way you’re squeezin’ me sweetheart. Go ahead. Make a mess on my cock,” Hoodie ordered. As if on cue your orgasm washed over you, your vision white as your body trembled. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, your vision hazy. You could feel Hoodie’s release, his cum painting the skin of your ass. Through your hazy vision you noticed white stains on your couch, a few inches away from your head. In confusion you raised an eyebrow, unsure if through the dancing stars you were seeing things correctly.

Before you could question it too much Hoodie scooped you up bridal style, carrying you away from the couch. He swiftly kicked open your bathroom door, sitting you in the tub and undressing you. “Should I ask why you know where my bathroom is?” You asked softly, your body spent. Hoodie chuckled, tossing your night gown and panties aside. He turned on the faucet, goosebumps covering your skin as the water turned warm. He reached under your sink, searching for something. “For such a know it all I thought you’d know my bubble bath is on the top shelf above the toilet,” You said, your eyes closed with bliss. Your body felt completely relaxed, a hum of satisfaction emerging from your throat as the water began to surround you.

“Such a smart ass. I’ll remember to fix that mouth of yours later,” Hoodie said, grabbing the bubble bath. The comforting smell of lavender filled your nostrils, causing you to smile. “I assume you know that’s my favorite?” You asked. Any other person in any other world would be terrified right now, shaking with fear. Yet you were content. Somehow comforted by your intruders presence. Hoodie dug another cigarette out of his pocket, roughly shoving it in between his lips. “This is always the worst part,” He sighed. You curiously opened your eyes, looking over at him. Bubbles began to rise, coating your skin.

“Why’s that? You afraid to say goodbye?” You asked. Hoodie shook his head, leaning against your bathroom sink. “Yeah, something like that. Restarting this over and over again is borderline torture,” He grumbled. This caught your attention, causing you to shift uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, what?” You questioned. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to not be afraid of him, there’s no telling whether or not he’s insane. “This is the only way The Operator lets me see you. I try to make the best of it really, Masky’s girlfriend didn’t get the same grace you did,” He explained. A mysterious supernatural being flashed in your mind, before quickly fading away as quick as it came. “I guess I can explain it to you just this once, not like you’ll remember anyways,” He said, roughly turning off the faucet. Drips of water droplets hit the water, your heart beginning to race.

“You’re my reward for being an obedient proxy. It’s a pain in the ass sometimes, rinsing and repeating this process. You’re stuck in a time paradox, where you’re be trapped in a loop of this forever. This isn’t even your house, it’s what The Operator made you believe is your house. Most of your memories are altered heavily or just completely erased. You don’t remember our five year relationship, back before I became who I am now.”

Hoodie ignored your reaction, your face twisted in horror as he continued.

“Tomorrow the cycle will start again. I’ll come in, just as I did tonight. You’ll be scared, just as you were tonight. But that sense of deja vu will keep you attracted to me and that’s all I could really ask for,” He sighed. He inhaled another hit of his cigarette, shaking his head. “Each time I kill you, the cycle resets. I bring you to Jack and The Operator, who revive you and wipe your memory. I gotta say though, too much of your memory is staying. He’s gotta fix that or it’s gonna fuck up this whole arrangement,” Hoodie explained. He couldn’t bear to look at your face. You had curled up into a ball in the tub, your knees tucked to your chest.

“B-Brian I don’t-”

The name fell off of your lips before you could process it. You didn’t understand, Hoodie’s eyes widening. He reached back under the sink, grabbing a toaster. He had planted it there the day before, not wanting to keep killing you in such bloody ways. Roughly he shoved it into a nearby outlet, sighing.

“Thats my cue. Dont worry sweetheart, tomorrow you won’t remember anything at all.”

Before you could protest or scream, he carelessly tossed the toaster into the bath. You were now dead once again, your destiny forcing you to be revived time and time again. Maybe Hoodie could find a way around it. Or, maybe he could rely on your deja vu for comfort for as long as he was cursed to live.

[bones4thecats]

Hi hi hello! It's me 🧑‍🧑‍🧒 again, hehe. Your writing always sparks joy! And I have a new idea for a request (^w^)

Could I request Ace, Deuce, and Floyd with a reader who often patches them up or straightens out their hair/clothes for them whenever they get into some sort of mischief or fight? Like, they clean wounds and uses plasters or bandages with cute designs or fix crooked ties or collars. It's their way of showing affection (like a little cleaner shrimp haha)

I hope you have a wonderful day! Remember to stay hydrated (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

When Their S/O Straightens Them Out

Characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, and Floyd Leech Requester: 👪Anon A/N: This is honestly so cute! By the way, like in my other Twisted Wonderland pieces, the reader is not considered to be MC (or Yuu Sei and I have dubbed him in my au) ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Book 1 Chapters 24-28 and Book 3 Chapters 33-39 (not fully-centered - just mentioned) and Mentions of speaking lewdly, fighting, injuries from fights, and physical assault leading to almost-permanent damage ⚠️

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　 Ace Trappola 　———————————-««

🪅 Ace has always had a big issue when it comes to relationships. It is literally canon that he had a girlfriend in middle school and when he lost interest he ghosted her till they broke up

🪅 But, when he finally met you, the first year began to seemingly become more mellow around you. Well, he was still a little rascal to others, but he loved to just sneak behind you a spook you instead of dunking buckets full of water on you

🪅 And he was the same until another Heartslabyul student began to get a little close to you. And by close, I mean by stating his care for you loudly during practices, oblivious to the fact that your boyfriend was a mere few feet away from him

🪅 Let's just say the jealousy bubbled over and he threw a basketball at his face, sending the other into anger. And to sum it up, you and the teachers were beyond pissed

"I mean what were you thinking?! You could've gotten suspended, and if you think Riddle would get super angry about a missing tart imagine a suspension!"

🪅 Ace sat there as you began to re-wrap his injuries from the fight, and seeing the fairly deep cuts and scrapes reminded you of when you helped the rest of your dorm and the magicless human and his pet cat against Riddle's overblot

🪅 He watched carefully and pretty much ignored your scoldings in favor of seeing your face flush slightly in anger and contort as you spoke. Ace may not seem like it, but he does love to observe you caring for him. Some would call that slightly creepy, but you found it flattering, he paid you more attention than his homework

🪅 You began to put the bandages away with the cleaning materials when you felt two arms hug you from behind and a man's chin lay on the top of your head

"Thank ya', lovely."

"Anything for the Ace of my Heart."

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　 Deuce Spade　———————————-««

♠️ Despite what he wants, Deuce does still have his delinquent urges inside of him. He is severely protective over you to the point where others would think that he was forcing you in the relationship. Thankfully you know better

♠️ He loves to see you happy, even if it means others make you that. But Deuce can tell what someone is really thinking. He spent quite a bit of his childhood around people who hid their true emotions, heck, he was even one of those people!

♠️ So, seeing this random Pomefiore student come up to you constantly and act as if he just wanted friendship, but in reality he was just trying to woo you over. Wanting you to leave Deuce for himself

♠️ Deuce was getting angrier by the day, so it was bound for his anger to finally take over and cause him to act out

♠️ All it took was hearing the other man speak awfully gross things of you in the changing room after Track and Field practice. And he took the first hit

♠️ Next thing he knew you were fixing him up and trying to heal around the collar that came from Riddle earlier that day. The housewarden had found out about the disagreement and yelled his signature spell's name, making you sigh in annoyance

"Dearest, I understand that you love me. But you shouldn't have put yourself through that kind of action, Great Seven knows if he were to press assault charges onto you!"

"Y/N... I'm sorry. I've tried so hard to be the perfect straight-A student for you, my mother, and grandmother and then hearing that- that bastard talk about you that way just made me snap. Y'know?"

♠️ You smiled gently as you laid the extra materials aside and held your boyfriend's face to look at you. You rested your forehead onto his as he sighed and hugged you back

"I love you so much, Deuce. Just the idea of you being minorly hurt, nonetheless severely hurts."

"Understood. I'll try to be a bit better, okay?" Deuce asked, his smile enlarging as you nodded and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you so much for loving me, Y/N."

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»——————————-　 Floyd Leech 　——————————-««

🎭 When you first met Floyd during your first years at Night Raven College, you knew that you would feel sorry for his future one and only. Little did you know that you were that one and only

🎭 Everyone understood the memo when Floyd was around. Do not speak ill of him or someone he was close to, it would only result in the sadistic eel-mer to pop up and practically squeeze you until you had a permanent dent in your ribs

🎭 Unfortunately for a new Octavinelle first year, he viewed the rumors as dumb. He was obviously acting this way to gain attention in that way, there was no way that a puny-looking eel-mer was stronger than the gorgeous and powerful betta-mer that he was!

🎭 Over the passing couple weeks, you have been hiding every interaction close to flirting away from the Octavinelle trio, knowing that either Azul and Jade would tell Floyd in a heartbeat

🎭 But, again, sadly for that new student, Floyd was walking around instead of being on his shift -due to finding it boring- and found the male taking his hair, which was flipped onto one side, and attempting to use dark-red and white colors to attract you. And that was not just going to pass by Floyd like nothing

"Y/N! Who is this you're talkin' too? A new friend?"

🎭 The sharp row of Floyd's teeth poking out from his smile didn't even spook the other male. And when he tried to lay a hand on you, Floyd snapped and began to twist the other male's arm to the point it was on the bridge of breaking. He just smiled as you laid a hand on his shoulder and asked him to put the guy's arm down

🎭 He did and watched with amusement as the other being began to run away in pure fear, gripping his arm as the pain echoed. You just groaned and adjust Floyd's jacket and look over his hands for any kind of scrape from work or being an idiot

🎭 Floyd smiled with wonder in his eyes as you cleaned him up like a little shrimp. Kind of like the magicless guy from Ramshackle!

"Y/N~ Would you ever leave me for that little baby fish?~"

"No. Why, you jealous?"

"Psh! Please. I know that I'm better than all those other bottom feeders."

[asocialangel]

pervy boyfriends

bllk boys who would –in my humble opinion– be pretty pervy towards their s/o. 

Shidou, Isagi, Karasu headcanons (low-key nsfw), i tried to be gender neutral but maybe it’s a bit more catered towards afab/fem reader for the Isagi part. 

ꕥ

Shidou:

Let’s stats by the most obvious of em all 

He is OPENLY and PROUDLY an OFFICIAL PERV

Let’s call it as it is

We haven't seen him talk about lovers canonly yet but i feel like he’d be a monster

This man is ALWAYS making dirty jokes to you

About you mostly 

Oh and public or not, he doesn't care, he if thought of something, you best believe he gon say it, regardless of whether your dad is around. 

He takes a sick pleasure in exposing your kinks to the whole word, especially ones you’ve told him you’re embarrassed about 

He likes it specifically when he says something in a public setting just loud enough so you will never know for sure if people heard him or not

Likes does his team’s goalkeeper know that you like being choked or not ?? You will never be sure ! (And it's not like you're gonna ask him) 

You never really heard it for yourself but you’re quite sure he talks about your sex life to his friends 

Cause multiple times they came up to you and made a joke that was suspiciously real 

“haha Y/N did you have a cat attack your boyfriend’s back ??” “Y/N can you help me out for next week’s anime convention ? I heard you’re quite good at cosplaying”

You even received a leash from a secret santa (you don't have a dog ???)

You’ve tried to ask him about it once, he jokingly said yes, so you never sure he actually meant it 

But you’re scared that if you ask too much he gon make it worse. 

Mind you Shidou is not just an asshole that crosses your boundaries. You had actually told him you were actually kinda into people low key knowing you’re a freak. But you could never say it yourself. So he’s actually nice and thoughtful to his s/o here. 

So yah let's say Shidou is not ashamed to explain to people what his position he likes you in

Also it’s almost obvious atp but he likes dirty talking in uncomfy places cause he knows it takes you very little to get you started, so he’s there getting you horny in the middle of applebees like… 

He likes telling you all the things he’d do to you once you're back home. 

He also often shares the details of how hard he was in the shower this morning thinking about you and how he chose to wait until you guys could do it cause he felt it would be a shame to waste his “precious cum” (his words) anywhere but “your pretty body” (again his words). 

So as I said, certified unashamed pervy boyfriend.

ꕥ

Isagi:

Now I think this would be an unpopular opinion because everyone and their dad headcanons Isagi as “a sweet caring innocent boyfriend 🥺” and while I agree that is true, he is multifaceted to me. 

To me, he would also be extremely pervy to his s/o, but unbeknownst to them. 

Like the minute you’re turning your back to him, he’s staring fouly at your ass

If you bend down to grab sum, he will not bother to look under your skirt that lifts up or your exposed cleavage. 

But again, he will only do it when he knows you can’t see him. 

He likes watching you doing the most innocent things and adding a double meaning to it in his head

Like you eating a skewer will be something far more dirty in his mind and you whining at the antiseptic on your wound is, in another setting, something way sexier. 

So everytime you see him smile at casual things you do, like getting on your knees to tie your shoelaces, you think wow he loves me so much, but truth is yes he loves you that much, actually way more. 

Isagi will always make the most far fetched double entendres to you, knowing damn well you’re too innocent and maybe head in the clouds to ever get it

So he says it, sees you agree mindlessly, and smiles to himself.

I’m telling you he’s an undercover perv.

Some of his dirty minded friends that have, they too, experience in that field, will sometimes get these double meanings he tells you and chuckle at his reaction to your non reaction. 

Unlike you, THEY know he’s toying with you and tbf they also find it quite cute

Isagi is not the type to put out all your sex life to his friends tho. But sometimes, just sometimes, he will (again) make innuendos about things you’re good at, like doing or like receiving.

But again, when he says it it's with a straight face. 

So his friends are never sure that he actually did mean what he said or if that innuendo was a pure coincidence. 

He just smiles smugly to himself

Also final addition: he knows your weak spots and he plays witit. 

Like he knows you're quite sensitive so he purposefully places the coffee grounds on the top shelf to see you struggle, have you jump around to see it jiggle, watch your shirt lift up and inevitably come to your help by grabbing said item from behind, basically squeezing you between him and the counter, pressing his dick into your ass, knowing damn well that’s enough to have you blush and moan.

But as always, you just think to yourself that he's so nice to help you, and you're so sensitive for reacting to a simple thing. 

ꕥ

Karasu:

let’s not forget about this pretty boy cause i feel we ALL know he can be so pervy…

To me, this boy is always, ALWAYS touching you 

He alwaysss has a hand on you like at all times TT

Saying hello ? Good morning kiss

He tries to find you in public ? When he sees you he’s gonna make himself known by laying a hand on your hip

He won a match ? You know already he’ll grab your ass when he finds you. 

He does not care about decency or whatever that social construct is: 

If he wants to feel you up, he will. 

Don’t care if his teammates are taunting him, if your friends are here, if a camera is filming

He likes the feeling of your skin on his, knowing you’re real cause he can feel it, feel the friction and the heat 

And he also likes knowing you’ll always be available for him, lending him a kiss whenever he asks for one

He should know by now you're never gonna say no, cause you love him so much, but he’s always looking to be reassured that you are his. 

So with Karasu, it does not stop at hand holding when you're going out

More like, hand holding, stroking your ass, kissing you passionately then placing his hand on your chin, smiling and walking again like normal until five meters further he wants to feel your waist. 

Mind you you tried to tell him this was not socially okay, being so explicit on PDA. His answer ?

Says who ? It’s not like people don't know where to be together. I dont think I'm breaking news to them that we get physical if I kiss you in public. 

“Babe, this is not about the kiss on my cheeks in public. I’m talking about you stretching my shirt collar to look at my cleavage while you’re on half time and a whole literal stadium is looking at you”. 

“What, you want to keep it a secret that I smack you ass naked when I win ?” “Well yeah that's kinda exactly what i'm saying” “Useless to bother hiding, they must know already” 

BUT THEY KNOW CAUSE HE WON’T STOP BEING SO HIGH KEY IN PUBLIC. 

So yeah when I say he’s a perv I mean he won’t bother to wait till behind closed doors. He will whisper in your hearts while grabbing your waist from behind no matter if you are in the middle of ordering coffee. 

At least you’re sue he loves you and won’t mind letting others know

ꕥ

A/N: yayyy this came up to me as i was falling asleep, Isagi staring relentlessly as your ass the second you turn around and then thought yeah he'd defo not be the only pervy bf in bllk. Hope u like it~~ still have many more things to write.

[sunny-knight]

@forgettable-au FAN ANIMATION ! LOUD NOISE WARNING!

*What was it all for…?

Song: Vishnu <3 by Peter Cat Recording Co.

…okay.

The main inspiration for this…can be summed up with I LOVE HOW SAD THIS CONCEPT IS. BUT i also adore how WEIRD it is.

This whole thing must be pretty weird and creepy for the characters right??? Like- we dont know for certain what EXACTLY is gonna happen, but we know for a fact that Wingdings finds out hes in a game, then kills himself so he can be closer with god-

THATS PRETTY WEIRD 😭😭 also sad but we can ignore that for now

I also experimented a tad with this in working with silence, so timing things at my own pace! It was really hard! I HAD SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!

But, time for my FAVORITE PART….ANALYSIS!!!

DISCLAIMER: some things stated as fact haven’t been said in the blog/arent canon to the au itself, just my animation/theories/interpretation, cause i’m silly and headcanoning :3

TITLE:

The proper title ive given this is “To You” which means 2 different and very vague things. What happened to you? and sending a message like “this is To You”.

In that case, “you” is whichever version of Papyrus/Wingdings/Gaster you want- Its not exactly clear which version of him means “you” which is kinda the point. The lines blur together sometimes…

But yeah, Gaster/crazy WD sends messages TOO himself so they’re “To You”

CONTEXT

Wingdings has JUST turned himself into Gaster. Ignore how impossible Sans interacting with him in this moment is, and just hear me out on the angst possibilities-

SCENE 1

As Sans approaches the mess- Gaster is encased in shadow, and looks at him. Expression not telling much- just looking blankly. Doesn’t even look like he’s alive… just… moving. Also the eye thats open, is just a slit. because- perspective. BUT I also had fun putting that there and going hehehehe it looks like WD/Papyrus’ eye

Sans approaches, and getting engulfed in the shadow, leaving the light.

His expression here was REALLY fun and REALLY hard to draw. Angry? maybe. stunned and terrified? DEFINITELY.

In this context (that doesn’t have a lot to go off of with the comics, YET) Sans knows that this was all very much intentional. He absolutely does not want to be angry, and is certainly only feeling it subconsciously.

But… he wanted so badly to understand, and enter his brother world. But now, Sans is just… Baffled. Hes like “what the fuck did you do???”

SCENE 2

Gaster continues to look blank. Looking up at Sans as he approaches, encasing him in even more shadow.

Sans’ hand reaches to Gasters face. From Sans’ perspective, his intentions are like checking for a pulse. Not literally ofc cause pulses arent on our face- but like, feeling for him. For a sign that something is there. (It’s also meant to be something motherly/comforting)

But then, Gaster leans into the touch, somewhat reciprocating this wordless “ive got you” gesture. That’s what makes Sans go from Terrified to just purely grief stricken. His brother is still alive. And he loves him.

But this form wont last for long…For universe fixing screw ups reasons :D 👍

SCENE 3

Gaster then opens his eyes, revealing hes even still got eye lights available for him. Thats what just SHATTERS the dam, and Sans embraces him suddenly.

SCENE(S) 4

Then, the “reset” happens, Gaster is gone, and Papyrus appears in place of Wingdings in his bed.

Nothing is boiling to add to a “frozen in terror” feeling!

Now- drawing all of the differences between the past and present rooms. DESTROYED ME. i HAD SO MUCH FUN BUT I ALSO CRIED 😭 There are no thank-you letters to santa, no racecar bed, no silly bone painting, no action figures, just BORING

I also wanted to keep everything monochromatic, so ofc we’ve got black and white for the void/Gaster, blue for Sans, red for Papyrus, and purple for Sans and Papyrus together.

The tape recorder and lab coat are still greyscale though cause Wingdings still has SOME of his stuff lying around. But the tapes are indecipherable, and Papyrus threw out that lab coat the first chance he got. It gave him the absolute worst feeling, worse than anything he’s ever experienced.

Something I also really enjoy is the fact that the dress shirts were still technically Wingdings’ but they’re red for Papyrus. The lab coat is the only real WINGDINGS thing that Papyrus wants absolutely no part in. Some things that were Wingdings’ are now Papyrus’ cause :D👍

in place of the bone painting are just family photos that I also have extra to say about. Someday I wanna make a comic of what happened to those/what I think would happen to em.

One day Papyrus is like “HEY UH- SANS! THESE PHOTOS! I DON’T LIKE LOOKING AT THEM! CAN WE NOT!?” Aka, he doesn’t remember these things happening/these photos being taken… BUT THEYRE PHOTOS OF HIM.

So he just feels really uncomfortable looking at memories he should reasonably remember, but doesn’t at all- and Sans gets that. But he keeps em in his drawer. Then! they hung up the bone thing in place of it cause SILLY!

But the family photos, I still had fun with. From left to right theyre a photo of Semi with the twins, the twins as baby bones, then as slightly older kids, then WDs graduation photo.

CONCLUSION!

This entire thing was so much fun, and I feel i’ve really grown as an artist over the process of experimenting and not being knocked down by annoying setbacks,

Also, as usual, Works In Progress’ plus extra behind the scenes stuff will be posted shortly after this!! YIPPEEE!!! HAPPY NIGHTMARES!!!!!

OHHHH ALSO EXTRA ART!!!

“AREN’T THEY BEAUTIFUL?”

That silly moment when your clone is really weirdly obsessed with stars and enthusiastically holds your eye sockets open to show you them

[hannahmanderr]

I haven't seen anyone else talk about this yet so I'm going to assume no one has (and if this is the millionth post about this I am so sorry), but apparently there was a leak at Viacom last month, and one of the things that got leaked was the original Danny Phantom pitch bible, and let me tell y'all, there is some interesting lore to be had. I've taken the liberty of summing up a few notable points, but feel free to read for yourself - it's pretty short.

Jack was originally written as an ex-spy, test pilot... basically if it was a daring job, he probably had it. His IQ was supposedly only one point off from Maddie's, and his bumbling was more of a result of him being more "brave than smart."

Maddie was originally written as "one of the world's most respected theoretical physicists" and the brains between her and Jack. Get this: her full name was supposed to be Madison!

Sam and Danny's psychic connection was actually a result of the accident. When he was in the hospital and still very much saturated with ectoplasm, she gave him a "get better" kiss on the forehead, which sparked the connection. The connection would've manifested in a number of ways, including a perpetual ability to "sense" the other, see visions, and hear each other's thoughts, though it was supposed to be somewhat unpredictable.

Jazz hid her brains from her cheerleader friends because she wanted to fit in with them.

Danny was supposed to be the only person able to see, hear, and interact with ghosts.

On the subject of Danny, his reputation for being a scaredy-cat was much more well-known, even to the point where Sam and Tucker gave him the nickname Danny Phantom before he even had his accident. This kid was scared of his own shadow, frogs, you name it.

Overshadowing was originally called "ghosting," and the more intelligent a person, the more difficult it would be to control them.

Jack and Maddie were hoping to break the barrier between the "Real World" (our world) and the "Unreal World" (the ghost world). They wanted to get through to the spirit realm to be able to communicate with the dead in order to help make the world a better place (think picking Einstein's brain a little more, seeing what other music Mozart has cooking, etc.). That dimensional barrier was damaged when they first tried out their experiment, and Danny - who was hiding out from Dash in the lab - would be caught in the middle.

Much like how fans have interpreted things and how the show tried to imply, Danny felt responsible for unleashing the ghosts into our world and decided to adopt the name Sam and Tucker had teased him with to help put a stop to their reign of terror.

Seriously, y'all should read this. There's a lot of interesting info in here, and really it sounds like such a cool concept?? Like I'll probably add my personal thoughts in a reblog, but there's a lot of potential for untapped creativity from the phandom here. Plus it's always nice to see what's technically official content almost 20 years after the show's premiere.

[fuctacles]

What about milf 6?

Well, apparently I only had to proofread it so...

<<😺😺😺😺😺 | 😺😺😺😺😺😺😺>>

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end is not the one Eddie wants to hear, but he should have expected it. He did call a total stranger, after all. 

"Robin, right?"

"Yeah, who is it?"

He feels like he's already fucked up, somehow, but he pushes on.

"Eddie, I'm taking care of Stephanie's cats. I, uh, I think they want to talk to her."

He breathes out in relief when the woman on the other side laughs. 

"Yeah, I can hear that. Gimme a second. Steph!" She pulls the phone away from her, but the volume is still a bit too much. "Your boy is calling!"

"He's not my boy!" he thinks is what he hears from even further away before there's a clatter in the receiver, and a way softer "Eddie?"

"Hi." He brings the phone closer to his ear again. "How's your weekend going?"

"Really good, thank you. Robin nearly broke her finger trying to beat me in bowling and I ate way too many steamed dumplings. But I swear they are the best in the state."

"You a big fan of dumplings?" he asks with a chuckle.

"You have no idea, I'll eat any kind. Pierogies, dim sum, samosa... How are you doing with my little idiots, though? I can hear they're being evil again."

"Uh, yeah." Eddie turns to look at the three furry menaces sitting in a perfect line and meowing more off-tune than even Gareth ever could. "Seems like they really want to get into the bedroom."

Steph huffs into his ear.

"They think I'm hiding from them. Let them in and keep an eye out because I'm not getting new drapes again. Lure them out with catnip if they won't leave on their own."

"Okay."

"And, uh, if you see something weird, like, on the bed or something, just throw a blanket over it and pretend it's not there, okay?"

Eddie blinks at the closed door, Robin's distant laughter and the cat's very close cacophony melting his brain.

"Weird how?"

"Shut up, Rob!" Steph hisses to her friend before coming closer to the phone. "Underwear, uh, toys, the likes," she explains, voice slightly pained. 

"Gotcha," Eddie gulps at the prospect of running into Stephanie's sex toys. 

"I think I put everything away, but I'm not used to having men in my bedroom."

"Uh-huh, yeah, me neither."

Eddie is really tempted to bash the receiver into his skull. 

Stephanie clears her throat. 

"Hey, could you feed them this evening too? I was—"

"Absolutely," Eddie interrupts her, cringing at his own eagerness. "You just have fun with your friend."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Don't worry about it."

"Thank you so much. I'll pay you when I get back."

"What? No, absolutely not."

No no no no no, don't you dare turn it into a transaction, Stephanie.

"Well, help yourself to the beer, then."

That's better, that's how friends pay for favors. He deflates with relief. 

"Or food, the TV, anything you want."

"Thanks," he says, but doubts she's heard him over the commotion on the other end. The sounds are not dissimilar to Jeff's two toddler siblings fighting. 

"Well, I'll be back tonight or early morning, so just leave the key under the doormat."

"You don't have a spare?" he frowns. 

"Robin has it, in case of emergencies." 

That sounds like a weird arrangement but Eddie's not going to question it. 

"I could wait for you," he offers, but as soon as it leaves his mouth he realizes how weird it sounds. "I stay up late anyway, you can just drop by my uncle's and I'll hand you the key," he quickly amends.

"The doormat is really enough," she assures him but he doesn't like the idea of leaving anyone's key in an obvious place.

"What? Sorry, I can't hear you over the meowing. I'll see you later."

She huffs, and he hopes it's an amused, fond huff, like his uncle gives him. Then hopes it's not. He doesn't want Steph to respond to him like his uncle does. 

"Sure. Later, Eddie."

He finally opens the door to her bedroom, and it's like a switch has been flipped. The noise immediately ceases, and the cats rush inside. 

"You guys are insane," he mutters, following them. He turns the light on and looks curiously around, tamping down any sense of guilt. 

He spots a white bra thrown over the end of the bed and pulls the blanket over it so he can pretend it's not there. Everything smells like Steph and he has this millisecond urge to plop face-first into her bedding and just inhale her.

When they don't find their owner where she should be, the cats retreat without the need for a bribe. Eddie closes the door behind them and his body deflates with a soft sigh.

When he's back in the evening though, he makes a grave mistake. 

He lets himself indulge a little, grabs a beer from the fridge, and peruses Stephanie's movie collections. It's mostly romantic comedies, and, surprisingly, the Star Wars movies. He picks the first one and plucks it into the VHS.

The couch sinks under his butt and he sighs in contentment as the opening credits appear on the screen. He could stay here, binge the trilogy, and welcome Steph home.

Open her a beer and massage her feet and kiss her hello. Like a loving husband.

Eddie sighs at his own thoughts, falling deeper into the cushions. He met Steph two days ago and meanwhile, there's a girl back in Indy he's been idly flirting with. And that cute guy from Battle of the Bands.

But they fall apart in the face of Stephanie's beauty, of her luscious hair and disarming smile. Eddie slides down a little bit further. Arwen decides it's an invitation to sit on his lap and he welcomes the distraction, petting her mindlessly. 

Sometime later, he considers getting another beer, but he's trapped under the black cat. He nudges her gently, but all he gets is a warning side eyes so he raises his hands in defeat.

"Okay, I'm not moving." He admits his loss and focuses back on the movie. 

[ilythena]

Request: Jack and Luke go to an animal shelter to adopt a pet (cat or dog, which ever is your favorite) and Jack falls for the adoption counselor that helps them pick out the perfect pet

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM after Luke begs Jack to get a dog, he ends up lucky in more ways then one.

Fem!reader, straight fluff, no warnings! Kinda short tho, tbh I got too interested in Luke begging Jack for a dog 😭 req are open so don’t be shy to send in some, almost done w a lot of them just gotta find time to post em <3

♪ DIAMOND BOY - SZA

“Can you just hear me out-“ “no.” “Please! Just one!”

Sitting on the bed in Jacks room of their shared apartment, Jack throws his head back with an irritated groan. “Luke, I’m not going to keep arguing with you about this shit. We can’t have a dog. Who’s going to watch it? And clean up after it? We’re both professional hockey players and have zero time for an animal.”

With a pout, Luke hesitates before speaking again. “I’ll clean up after them! And I’ll spend all the time with them!” “Luke no. We have a game tomorrow. Go to bed.”

“Why am I even asking! I’m a grown man. I’ll just get one and bring it home.” “I wish you fucking would.”

Luke storms out of Jacks room and heads to his own. Immediately getting on his phone and ranting to Quinn about his problems, Jack turns his body and sighs.

“…what’s going on with the Hughes’?” “Apparently Jack said no to a dog. Luke’s not taking the rejection well.”

The two brothers glare at each other from across the locker room, Luke tightening his laces and Jack grabbing his stick. He mouths an ‘I’m not changing my mind. No dog.’ And Luke huffs before walking out.

“…..well, he’ll get over it soon.” Nico says, patting Jack on the back and he just frowns. “Why is he so insistent on a pet all of a sudden? I mean, you understand why I’m saying no right?”

“Yes, I understand. But I can also see his side. You two will come to a compromise eventually. Let’s not worry about this stuff and just focus on trying to win the game tonight, okay?” Nico says and with a nod, both boys walk out of the room and onto the ice.

Everything was going well at first, Jack had even scored a goal! But it’s like this week just wasn’t on his side. The opposing team began crushing them after the first quarter, swiftly taking out their team with a score of 3-1.

On top of the crushing loss, it was pouring rain outside. And his umbrella broke, which meant he had to walk in the rain, with his brother who’s mad at him, after he loses a game. Great.

Both boys get to the car cold and covered in water—not a word spoken between the two. Luke closes his door shortly after Jack does and it’s pure silence between the two. Jack starts the car and turns the heat up to the max before driving off and making his way home.

“Hey luke?” “…yeah?” “I’m sorry. I’ve been really stressed out and honestly I don’t think it’s good for us to be arguing over something so stupid. Maybe we should get something to eat-” bark! Jack’s eyes snap over to Luke and suddenly it feels like the car is at 100 degrees.

“What was that.” “What was what…?” Bark! Comes from Luke’s side of the car once again, this time Jack can faintly see something moving inside of his jacket.

“Luke.” “….listen! Do you see how hard and cold it it outside? Poor thing would have freezed to death out there!” “I told you no dogs!” “Look at her!”

Luke pulls the small puppy out from his jacket and you can see her shaking. Wet, cold, and obviously very lost.

“…what do we do now?” Jack whispers and Luke doesn’t answer, pulling the animal closer to his chest. After a moment of discussing what to do, the boys decide to just go home and sleep for the night.

“Hi, welcome in… how can I help you?” “We wanna adopt this dog-“ “no we don’t.”

Jack pushes Luke behind him and gently snatches the puppy from his hands, a sharp gasp cutting through the air when Luke feels the shove.

“Oh! Where did you find them?” “On the street, my brother couldn’t help but pick them up.” You gently take the animal out of Jack’s hands and inspect them for a second before looking him in the eyes. “I’ll have to do a cleaning and a check up for them, since they’re very dirty and I want to make sure the dog is healthy before I give them to you.”

Jack glances at you and when you two make eye contact all the anger he had directed towards Luke died down immediately in his throat. He quietly nodded and in less than a second, you were gone and in the back.

Another one of your coworkers came and got their information, and Jack had sat next to Luke in the small waiting area.

“…can we please keep the dog-“ “maybe.”

After what seemed like hours, you walk out with the dog put in a small kennel, handing it to your coworker. “Good news, puppy is very healthy! Bad news, you can’t keep her because she’s microchipped, which means she does have an owner.” Luke groans in disappointment, but his eyes flicker over to another dog playing through the window in a designated play area.

Jack notices this, and after standing there for a while, he speaks. “….are any of the dogs over there up for adoption?” “Yes sir! All the animals on the right side of the building are up for adoption. Are you interested in adopting today?”

“Um, yes.” Luke’s head snaps over into Jack’s direction. “That’s great! I’ll let you two look at the animals, and let me know if you decide to adopt.”

As you walk away, Jack looks at Luke and glares. “Don’t get too happy. I’m picking the dog.”

“Hello Mr. Hughes, how may I help you today?” “Hey. I know this is really sudden, but I think he’s sick! He’s been throwing up a lot.”

Jack drags in a golden retriever, who his brother named ‘Jett’ and he doesn’t look to well. Slouching and obviously very tired.

“Oh no! Here, follow me. I’ll get him onto the inspection table and I’ll check what’s wrong with him.” He follows you down the hallway with the puppy in his arms and sets him down gently onto the cold metal table.

Watching you take a stethoscope and check up his heartbeat and trying to listen into his stomach, his heart briefly stops when you call in your coworker to do an x-ray on the animal.

After getting sent to the waiting room and waiting an hour, his worried face shifts to confusion when Jett quickly runs out the door and in between Jack’s legs.

“So, I thought he had an infection in his stomach from some sort of food, but as soon as I officially set up the x-ray and tried to put him under it, he refused and went from looking sick to looking completely fine. My diagnosis is that he was trying to get your attention by being dramatic.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief and looks down at the golden ball of fur in between his feet, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Wow. So I brought him here for nothing?” “Pretty much.” You try to hold back a laugh but fail miserably, smiling at the animal and preparing the register for his bill.

“Well, at least he’s okay! That’s all that matters.” You say and Jack lets out a brief chuckle before looking down at the machine.

“150 dollars?!” “Unfortunately, He did waste the supplies used to prep the x-ray machine…”

“Back again, Mr. Hughes?” “He was eating grass, I’m concerned he’s sick.” “You said that the last time you came in.”

It’s been about 4 months since Jack officially adopted Jett, and coincidentally his owners been coming into your clinic non stop for those past 4 months.

“I’m just looking out for him, what kind of owner would I be if I just let everything slide under the rug?” He grins and you scoff with a smile before leading him and his dog into a private room so you can “investigate” the problem with Jett.

The happy dog jumps up onto the table and rolls over, making a happy sort of huffing noise when you rub his stomach. After doing regular check up procedures, you can determine that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Jett.

“As usual, there’s nothing wrong with your dog. Why do you keep coming in here when you know he’s fine?” Jett jumps on you and you can’t hold back a laugh when he jumps down onto the floor and stands in a playing position. You open the door to the dog play area and let him out to go socialize with the other dogs that stay in the clinic.

“Maybe I just wanna see the cute girl who works here.” “Well maybe there’s an easier way for you to do that instead of dragging him along with you and wasting your money.” Jack bites his lip into a smile and slowly walks closer to you with his hands into his pocket.

“Does that mean that maybe I can take you out on a date this weekend?” “Maybe it does.” You lean against the counter that holds all the paperwork and files in the clinic and take out a small slip of paper, writing something down on it before shoving it into his hands and walking back into a ‘staff only’ facility.

“ xxx-xxx-xxxx. I’ll see you this weekend, Hughes. ;)”

————————————————————————

I would have added my pink banner BUT I ran out of picture space….. sorry this ended so suddenly, I was struggling w how to end it!

© copyright of ilythena. Do not repost or translate onto any other websites.

[saturnmosaic]

succulent berries nestled in the yard.

pairing : ellie williams x female reader

synopsis : ellie, your wife, gives your cat away, out of envy or circumstance, you can't tell. leaving behind the past, you and your wife move into a new home. but with a relationship on the brink of ravage, the house seems to harbor sinister forces. and with the insatiable hunger for berries you discovered in the yard, things crumble rather fast.

warnings : pussy eating, mentions of miscarriage, animal deaths, blood, cannibalistic yearning, figures/ creatures sorta?? haunted house.

wc : 1.8k

a/n : um yeah...it's kinda bad and not executed well but i wrote this during the week of my exams, can you blame me? also i got kinda lazy during sum bits sooo

betrayal lingers in the car, stirring amidst the crisp air of the AC. the tapping of the rain against the mist covered windows, like the rhythmic pumping of your ruptured heart, does no good to the gnawing feeling inside you. how could she have given away your blythe. the tiny creature always so nimble on her feet at the call of her name, so fond of seeking slumber on your lap.

you’d found her on a similar day like this— grey hues enveloping the sky, water droplets crashing the tender and moist earth with all their might, and the rumbling of thunder in the distance. amidst all that chaos, her meek meow had stood out. her black fur was sleek with the heavy rain, and her belly was smeared plum dark.

you’d taken her home on an impulse. time and medical care healed her. and she had healed you. a lovely year spent with her, reminiscent of a lilac bloom in the summer. but now she was gone, taken away from you by your own wife. your own wife! a blasphemy.

"are you still mad at me? we had no other choice." aventurine eyes dart away from the distorted road to get a glimpse of you. your eyes still bleary and bloodshot, hair ever so tousled, and the silk of your dress embracing your petal-like skin. a bittersweet sight.

"don't say we." not even a glance spared her way, the face you’d seek for in every room you entered, now a face foreign and surreal.

"oh come on, she was sick anyway. it was only a matter of days before she died!" her temper, planted in her like a tempting hydrangea, speaks before her rationale can articulate words, knuckles gripping the charcoal leather of the driving wheel.

"she was not sick."

she sighs, the guilt of her deed looming over her like a sickly, withered willow. “baby, we both know she was and i’m really sorry but we can’t do anything about it. we’re moving to a new town, a new house. bringing her with us would be..a burden. besides i’d rather you not witness her death, i don’t wanna see you suffer like that.”

“i’m already suffering, aren’t i?”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do, huh? i’m just trying to do what’s right. a-and it’s like i’m always second to that cat!”

the confession, lays bare like an ornate scroll, and makes you ponder if envy was the cause of it. but was what she said entirely fallacious? maybe you had been giving blythe more attention that she’d felt frivolous in your eyes.

“just- i’m sorry, okay? but i promise jesse will take good care of her.”

silence ensues, and soon the quaint house surfaces into your eyesight. the rain and dusk obscured it's intricacy but from what you could make out, it was painted in warm whites and browns, with ivy weaving up the sides and windows curtained in white lace.

…

a house is a body, your mom used to tell you. a haven meant to be worshipped in return for solace and warmth. this house became your body. its walls were alive in the daylight, screeching and beckoning for something while ellie was at work. it fed on your sorrow and resentment like a famished beast, stripping them away to procure life. your heart was indented in these walls.

the house would foist bad omens on whoever visited. aunt daphne had a miscarriage, the frail thing of a baby was bled out on the black and white tiles of your bathroom. it stirred memories of your own miscarriage, and ellie thought that was the reason you leaned so heavily on blythe, loving her as though she were your own child. when uncle luke visited, his golden retriever was found dead in the yard, leaves sitting idly on its fur like an atonement.

ellie wasn't one to believe in curses or anything remotely superficial, but she'd felt something innately sinister residing in the hollow of the house. she wanted to move, but moving away meant leaving behind your body, so you stayed, which compelled her to stay rooted to the house too.

…

on a sunny morning, beads of sweat kissing your skin, damp hair heavy under the sun’s gaze, you’d been lead to the brambles in the yard by the house itself. the raspberries were glistening and plump with saccharine juice.

they might’ve been tainted with fox piss, so you gather them in a dainty basket and slip back into the confines of your home to wash them. the water from the tap cascades down onto the fruits in your hand, ridding them of the insect debris and other dirt.

a tatted arm snakes its way around your waist and a head heavy with sleep rests on your shoulder. it had almost slipped out of your mind that it was a weekend.

ellie's other arm reaches out to turn the tap off and put the dampened raspberries away from your hand. without warning, pearly whites bite down on your neck and her tongue flicks out to languidly soothe the bruised splotch.

a carnal desire courses through your veins. ever since you moved here, and ever since blythe was no longer in your gentle arms, words barely existed anymore. and sometimes silence felt like a human presence, mocking the insubstantial souls around it. without words, sex was your salvation.

she turns you around to hoist you up on the counter, shadows smudged under her eyes. she'd come back from work late last night, you figure.

her calloused hands are on your thighs, pushing them apart with a fervor. a similar fervor that'd paint itself on her whenever you showed her a hint of normalcy. your hands still in her tousled hair, as the velvety pads of her fingertips tug your underwear off.

her knees hit the marble tiles, warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen windows, as she lifts the fabric of your dress up, a gentle rustle against the morning ambience, revealing your slick folds.

her tongue teases your weeping cunt, one hand clutching the dress up and the other resting on your thigh. you whimper in desperation, pushing her head further.

“ellie..”

she pats your thigh in response, fucking you with her warm muscle, feeling your insides devour it with a hanker. noises flow out of your mouth as smoothly as the tranquil descent of a waterfall, as your fingers dig into her scalp.

a sultry moan muffles into your hole, and she pulls back, the taste of you lingering on her tongue.

“what the fuck? why’d you-” your whine is silenced by the solace of her lips. her tongue slides into your mouth and presses against your own, slick and insistent. your own taste dissolves into your mouth, mending with your saliva.

you bite the soft pillow of her lower lip, drawing crimson liquid and earning a throaty noise from her. somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

“babe..” she lowers her gaze in an attempt to catch sight of the fresh blood. before she can wipe it away with the pad of her thumb, you lick the red off her pillowy cushion of flesh.

the taste is seraphic as it sits on your taste buds, a pure bliss, like thyme on a wound. the sensation of her tongue back inside your clenching walls heightened this feeling, if not subdued it wholly. but the taste still lingered.

her fingers soothe your swollen clit, circling around it as if afraid it’ll be seized from her grasp someday.

she laps at every drop of juice that manifests, like she’d done to your tears, as a fatuous inside joke, a long while ago. so long, she can’t remember if it was a hazy dream.

“fuck. i’m so close.”

her mouth pulls away when you reach your pleasant climax, her fingers still on your clit, helping you through your high. your hands go limp in her hair, and she languidly wipes the glistening slick from her mouth and chin with the back of the hand that releases your bunched dress.

...

the berries stay forgotten until the next morning, when it’s delicacy is withered and rotten away under the exposure to air and temperature. you throw the shrivelled fruits away and pick several more.

the new ripe ones sit snug in a ceramic bowl, alluring and tender. you feast on ten, eleven, twelve, and then the count numbs in your brain. the fluid so grossly alike to ellie’s blood, makes you delirious. it’s utterly enthralling, the juice dripping down your chin, its sticky residue settling on your skin. your teeth and lips and hands stained in a crimson hue, a crimson hue reminiscent of ellie’s blood. ellie’s blood. they chant themselves on the tip of your tongue.

spindled figures, engraved on the floors, long limbs and pulsing eyes, they seem to close in on you. the bowl is emptied, raspberries already in the pit of your stomach. the yearning grows in agony, an animalistic desire surging through the ivory of your bones.

you feel light like you’re meandering through the air, though you can feel the faces of the figures underneath your feet, something metallic making its home in your hand.

you blink and you're standing in your bedroom, ellie coddling her apatosaurus plushie, as her eyes stay fluttered. a vulnerability so immensely coating the room. the knife glides down her supple skin, the smell of meat stirring your senses. was her heart the sweetest part of her body?

"what the fuck are you doing?" her raspy voice cuts through your trance and suddenly the object in your hand feels foreign. with a sharp yank to your arm, the metal clanks on the marble floor.

"what is wrong with you?" ellie's gripping your arms, her face contorted with disbelief, shock and wrath.

"n-nothing." but something is. you both know. tears gush through your eyes, the salty pearls melding with the sweet smear of berries on your skin.

"god, it's this fucking house! we should've moved. fuck!" her grasp on your arms are gone, her hands fumbling for her phone. frustration envelopes her like a smothering blanket as she talks to demolition contractors.

your pleas fall on deaf ear, your mere presence as measly as a lamb. you let yourself be escorted out of the house, eyes sodden, red flickering in them, as you watch- watch the house your body collapse to the ground.

the berries come retching out of your mouth, along with a hideous flow of blood. the walls crumble and the world around you dances like an uncanny painting. sirens wail in the distance and layers of black pierce through your eyes, shutting them for slumber.

[dawndelion-winery]

L for Loser Lover

They're not normally this...pathetic. Really, it's just the way love brings out the worst in people

Ft. Alhaitham, Childe, Scaramouche (Wanderer)

Alhaitham:

Cold, curt, and ever on top of things, he's not exactly what anyone would picture when asked to imagine a doting lover

For someone who knew over twenty languages, he sure didn't have a clue on how to use any of them

At least, that's how people would think his love life would go

So just what was that flower crown of woven roses doing atop his head?

And the funky chicken looking thing sewn onto his handkerchief???

"It's not a chicken, it's an eagle. My lover embroidered it for me earlier this year on Valentine's Day."

Wow, he sure sounded proud of that

Was that a ghost of a smile on his lips? A faint giggle?

Dear archons the world must be ending

Childe:

Puppy love! Except it's more of an orange cat

Now, he wouldn't scream for attention

Actually, he just might

He's beating up some abyssal beast and suddenly he's pausing to shout for you

Y'know, just in case you weren't watching how cool he was

Some vicious weapon of war he is, slashing away at rifthounds and vishaps alike with that manic emptiness in his eyes

Which glints with a brief sparkle of excitement when he calls your name

He's disgustingly whipped and he can't even be insulted for it

Just try and point out how his eyes only light up when he talks about you, the softness in his features akin to the expression he makes when speaking of his family

"Maybe you're just seeing yourself in my eyes...you're the light of my life, after all."

Scaramouche:

Emotional constipation atop the urge to adore you isn't a good look on him

He's so clearly trying to seem unaffected by you and it's even clearer that it isn't working

You're so lovely to him it's actually disgusting and he wants to throw up

Stunning, breathtaking, spectacular, gorgeous...they don't even begin to describe you, and he starts to hate it

What do you mean you don't understand what he means when he says he can't really call you winsome or ravishing?

It's annoying to him beyond belief

"Can you sum up a sunrise with a simple "It's bewitching"? Beguiling doesn't even begin to explain the hold you have on me. Your stupid face...I don't want to look at anyone or anything else if it were an option. Your pulchritude has no comparison...so much so that even if I wanted to like it to anything to help you understand, it can't..."

Yeah, no, he's not elaborating beyond that

If you've gotten him riled up to the point of that sort of monologue...chances are you've lost your pet name privileges for at least a week

Expect terms of endearment to be replaced by "dumbass" or "idiot"

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade