#than with my funky jaw

[familyofpaladins]

So I went to the dentist yesterday

(it's really funny because I've had a note on my file for YEARS that says my jaw pops (mostly so it doesn't freak whichever hygienist out), but it's normally not too loud/ I'm able to move my jaw just enough while they're cleaning my teeth that they don't notice it too much. but when I went to demonstrate it for the dentist it was one of the loudest it's ever been lol. And their faces immediately after that was so funny I had to draw it.

He asked me if i wanted a specialist recommended, but I said that it usually didn't bother me, and he said he'd go ahead and put a note on my file in case I ever change my mind. And maybe I will once I actually get insurance figured out with my job.)

[aza-trash-can]

Having a breakdown today and I just got therapised by a Cosmo Sheldrake song

Yeah, maybe I shouldn't make a mountain out of this molehill, let's get my shit done

[pucksandpower]

A Crime Against Fashion

Charles Leclerc x fashion designer!Reader

Summary: you love Charles more than life itself, but everyone has a breaking point … and yours is those damn pants

You stride into the spacious open-concept living room of the luxury apartment you share with your boyfriend, tossing your leather tote onto the couch with a huff. Another long day of design meetings and fittings for your upcoming spring collection has left you completely drained.

But your frustration isn’t just from work stress this time. No, it’s those blasted pants again.

As if on cue, Charles emerges from the bedroom wearing the dreaded blue and white tie-dye atrocities that have been your nemesis for weeks now. You can’t hold back a small groan of exasperation.

“What’s wrong, mon cœur?” Charles asks with his trademark lopsided smile, those warm emerald-colored eyes crinkling at the corners.

You gesture helplessly at the offending garment. “Charles … those pants. They’re just … how can I put this delicately? A crime against fashion.”

He glances down at the loose-fitting psychedelic nightmares, seemingly oblivious to their ugliness. “What do you mean? I think they’re kind of funky.”

“Funky?” You echo incredulously. “That’s one word for them, I suppose. Hideously unstylish is another.”

Charles pouts, sticking out his full lower lip in that irresistible way he knows gets you flustered. “But chérie, I really like them. They’re so comfy and casual.”

You shake your head adamantly, trying not to get distracted by how criminally attractive he looks even in those ridiculous pants. “No, nope. As your girlfriend and a designer, I simply cannot allow you to go out in public wearing those any longer. It’s a matter of principle!”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh? And just what do you plan to do about it, hmm?”

A mischievous grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Well, I do have a few ideas …” You lunge toward him playfully.

With a yelp of surprise, Charles dodges out of the way, those long legs carrying him across the living room as you give chase. You laugh breathlessly, finally managing to catch him and wrap your arms around his slender waist from behind.

“Quit running away from me, Leclerc!” You tease, nuzzling against the back of his neck. “You know this is for your own good.”

Charles twists around in your arms until you’re face to face. His expression is one of feigned indignation but you can see his warm green eyes are dancing with amusement. “I will not be bullied about my clothing choices by you, Y/N Y/L/N! These pants are staying and that’s final!”

You answer by promptly planting a line of teasing kisses along the sharp line of his jaw, making him shiver. “Is that so? We’ll see about that, pretty boy.”

That evening, you make a point to avoid looking at or even acknowledging the offensive pants for the rest of the night. At one point, Charles good-naturedly tries to get a rise out of you by draping the tie-dyed nightmares over the back of the couch right in your line of sight. But you simply turn your nose up with an overdramatic harrumph, refusing to take the bait.

“Very mature,” Charles chuckles from beside you on the couch, his knee brushing against yours in that casual yet intimate way.

You shoot him a pointed look from the corner of your eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m simply refusing to lend any credibility to those … those …” You wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the pants hanging over the couch.

“You mean my pants?” Charles supplies helpfully, that infuriatingly charming grin stretching across his full lips.

“Ugh, don’t even call them that! Actual pants deserve more respect.” You lean your head against the back of the couch in exasperation.

Charles scoots closer until his side is flush against yours. He cups your jaw in one of those large, calloused racing hands and gently turns your face until you’re meeting his molten gaze. “You’re just jealous that I look better in them than you ever could, mon amour.”

His teasing words further ignite the spark of competitive spirit smoldering in your chest. With a surge of determination, you press a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Challenge accepted, Leclerc.”

Two nights later, as Charles arrives back at the apartment after a grueling day of training, he immediately notices that something is … off.

He pads through the living room toward the bedroom, brow furrowed in confusion at the odd scattering of fabric scraps and loose threads on the floor. Your sewing machine is set up on the dining table, various rattles and clanks echoing from the bedroom.

“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly. “Everything okay in there?”

You poke your head out from around the bedroom doorway, cheeks flushed and hair slightly askew. But your eyes are bright with mischief. “Charles! You’re home, perfect. Come in here for a second?”

With a shrug, he follows you into the bedroom. Only to stop dead in his tracks, jaw dropping almost comically. There on the floor in a tattered, unrecognizable heap of fabric are … his beloved tie-dye pants. The ones you had so vehemently loathed.

“Y/N, what … how … why …” he splutters, seemingly at a loss for words as he crouches down and gingerly runs a finger over the ragged remnants.

Resting your hands on your hips, you try not to look too triumphant. “What can I say? The cat got to them.”

Charles’ brows knit together in confusion. “We don’t have a cat, mon ange.”

Oops. Think fast.

“Well, uh, I was actually cat-sitting for Max today! You know how crazy Jimmy and Sassy can be. Those little balls of fluff must have gotten a hold of your pants and just went to town on them.”

You shrug innocently, the very picture of wide-eyed virtue. “Who can blame them, really? I warned you those pants were a crime against nature itself.”

For a long beat, Charles simply stares at the remains of his pants, then at you, eyes narrowed. You can practically see the realization dawning on his stupidly handsome face. Before he can call you out, you pivot on your heel.

“Anyway!” You clear your throat. “Since those pants were so adamantly beloved by you, I decided to give the fabric a little … redesign. Just to prove my point.” You turn back toward him, dropping the robe you had wrapped around yourself, to reveal your new creation. “What do you think?”

Charles’ breath seems to catch in his throat as you reveal the vibrant blue and white tie-dye fabric, repurposed into a sleek mini-skirt that hugs your curves in all the right ways. You punctuate the look by posing with one hand on your cocked hip, letting the skirt’s flirty hem swish teasingly.

“Well?” You raise an eyebrow challengingly, unable to keep the triumphant smirk from tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I believe you said something about looking better in those pants than me?”

To Charles’ credit, he recovers his powers of speech relatively quickly, running one hand through those tousled chestnut curls. “Y/N, you … you look …” He seems to struggle to find the words, green eyes raking over your figure appreciatively. "Incroyable. Magnifique."

You feel your cheeks warming at his praise, suddenly grateful for your impromptu redesign. “So I’ll take that as a point proven then?” You prod teasingly.

Charles finally tears his heated gaze from your body to meet your eyes, crossing the room in a few long strides until he’s crowding into your personal space. You catch your breath as his calloused hands settle on the curve of your waist, fingers brushing tantalizingly over the tie-dye fabric.

“More than proven, mon amour,” he rumbles in that low, gravelly tone that never fails to make your pulse kick up a notch. “I stand corrected — this fabric was absolutely meant for you and you alone.”

Before you can react with more than a breathless giggle, he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you dizzy and melting against the hard planes of his chest.

As you slowly break away trying to catch your breath, a wicked grin curves your lips. Placing your palms flat against Charles’ chest, you lean back just enough to meet his lidded, lust-blown gaze.

“You know …” you murmur, trailing a fingertip down the taut line of his throat and relishing the way his eyes darken further. “Now that I’ve refashioned those pants into this skirt, I believe that means they’re officially off-limits for you to wear. Unless …”

You bite your lower lip coyly, letting the implication hang in the air. Charles cocks an eyebrow, a rakish smirk of his own playing about those full lips as he catches your meaning.

“Unless what, ma belle?” His voice is thick with undisguised longing as he pulls you flush against him once more.

Stretching up on your tiptoes, you brush a feather-light kiss to that sharp, stubbly jawline. “Unless you’d fancy giving this skirt a spin for me sometime, Mr. Leclerc,” you practically purr into the heated space between your bodies. “Because I can absolutely get behind that look on you.”

Charles throws back his head with a rich peal of laughter, the sound reverberating through you. As his hands roam possessively over the tie-dye fabric now molded to your curves, you decide you’ll have to put in a request to see that particular fashion show very soon.

[lemon-lime-behavior]

Do you have any tips for drawing noses? Sorry this is out of nowhere but I'm wanting to improve on my art, specifically the faces, and it's always the nose I find myself struggling most with.

I really struggle w making it fit the face if that makes sense? Every time I try to add it it just throws the whole face off, especially the eyes, not to mention how to make different nose types and the angles </33

I love your art style so bad, it's so smooth and satisfying to look at and the way you draw noses like it's nbd (and anatomy in general like damn) baffles me so I was just wondering if you maybe had any tricks or not, Ty either way for sharing your art in the first place <33

@extravagav Well I can try! First off thank you very much, I often feel like I still have a very long way to go in regards to proportions and anatomy so I really appreciate your kind words <3

Hokay, so, noses. I do love noses. To start off when it comes to drawing noses I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you the most annoying advice in the world which is just to practice a lot. Find a lot of pictures of noses in a bunch of different shapes from a bunch of different angles and just draw them until your brain melts out of your ears. Pay particular attention though to the nose as a 3D object!

It's of course trickier to do than I'm making it out to be but the more you practice at imagining the nose as a 3d physical form the easier it becomes to make a nose model in your mind that you can rotate like a microwave.

This is my personal very very basic understanding of the nose's construction:

it's like three circles and a taco shell.

Okay so now that you've got a basic understanding of the nose's construction, how to put it in the middle of the god-dang face??

So the funky thing about noses is that they tend to change shape the least out of all our facial features when we're making expressions. Our eyes change shape, our mouths move, our eyebrows, our cheeks, our jaws, they all go all over the place. the nose, however, tends to be pretty stationary and doesn't deform much (save in one important way I'll get to later). So because of all this, and here's my biggest piece of advice when it comes to making the nose fit in the face, I like to draw the nose first! I do a very loose head construction, draw the nose, and then sort of "hang" the rest of the features off of it:

Two very different expressions, same nose!

Now when it comes to noses interacting specifically with the eyes the greatest thing to remember is that the part of the nose that sits between the eyes sticks out farther than you might think, and will likely be obscuring one of them, the extent of which depending a lot on the angle and how pronounced the nose bridge is.

for someone with a pretty flat nose bridge you'll be able to see most of the eye except in a more extreme angle, while someone with a protruding ridge might obscure the eye entirely. but the nose will likely be interacting with at least one eye if we're not facing the character head on. Really making your brain think in 3d is gonna most helpful here.

Finally! The nose being expressive! So the main way the nose plays in to expression is by wrinkling. the muscles that pull up your top lip and the muscles that pull down the middle of your forehead are almost all connected to the nose, so the nose tends to develop a lot of wrinkles whenever brows are furrowed or teeth are bared.

Adding those wrinkles can add a lot of impact in the expression! And not just angry ones neither:

Sooooooooooooooo yeah! noses! They're weird and they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and they can do a lot to add character to a face and they can also make you want to tear your hair out in big clumps! I'm still learning myself when it comes to noses (and most other things) and I'm faaaar from a master at it, but I hope I've been able to provide at least a little bit of help. If you do use my advice going forward please let me know! Good luck!!!!! (And here's all my nose "headcanons" for the strawhats. The ones who actually have human noses, anyway):

[nvuy]

an ode to a nightingale — sunday

summary. you were never anything. sunday begs to differ, in his own twisted way.

notes. a thing i did as an experiment and also as a little gift to a special someone (you know who you are) because we both enjoy staring at this guy's face. he's a funky little dude and a massive green flag. 100%.

i redownloaded hsr and i’ve started penacony. i have no idea what’s going on. it’s probably because i’ve been stuck staring at dr ratio’s boob window the whole time. i’m like a toddler watching cocomelon. i cant look away.

warnings. mdni, for safety. implied explicit content, dark themes, manipulation, sunday is a controlling dickhead, you’re an implied streetwalker, yandere themes, insulting, threatening, possessiveness, mentions of kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessiveness, lots of nice stuff like that. please let me know if i've missed anything!

“What do you want from me?”

You looked in the mirror as you spoke, and you saw some pathetic state of a person staring back at you. Behind the edges of the golden vanity was the outline of the filled bathtub with steam wafting from the surface.

And him.

You watched as he sank into the water with a satisfied gleam on his face.

You refused to linger on the scratch marks that left gorgeous red and white lines down his arms, and his chest, and his spine.

It smelled like coconut. Coconut and dusted sugar on creamy pastry. And the clogging smell of mascara.

It smudged down your cheeks, and your lips were ruined and swollen, and your skin was painted in purple bruises and teeth marks.

And you were sore. Every part of your body was aching.

Sunday was leaning against the edge of the tub, staring at you through his lashes. He always preferred his baths boiling, as if he wanted to melt his skin off. Usually, he’d bring a book with him and read it during his off time when given the chance.

He didn’t answer.

“You’ve changed,” he said instead. His voice echoed off of the white tiles in the bathroom.

“I look the same as the night you took me off the streets,” you murmured. “Like a whore.”

Sunday hummed. “Is that how you see yourself?” The wings extending from his ears dipped below the water for a moment. “A ‘whore?’”

You didn’t want to turn to face him.

It was difficult enough to hold his unwavering gaze in the mirror.

“You’re not denying it.”

“Because I think you look damaged.” He was honest this time, and there was bitterness swelling with his tone. He instinctively fluttered his feathers to dry them off.

“By your design.” You were speaking of how he made it his duty to ruin your skin with his teeth.

“What I’ve done to you is nothing. You had already ruined yourself by offering your body to those disgusting animals before I had ever even laid my eyes on you.” He waved his hand as if he meant no harm with his words. “I’ve merely saved you.”

Your jaw clenched.

He fluttered his lashes at you in the mirror and sighed.

What a pretty sight.

“‘Saved me?’” you repeated hoarsely. You tried not to claw at your skin in frustration. You willed yourself not to lunge at him and puncture his eyes from his skull. “Do me a favour and save me from your arrogance next. You’re deluded if you think trapping me in your bedroom is praiseworthy.”

He smiled.

“Think of it this way: a bird is much safer trapped in a cage than free to the winds.” The smell of coconut and sugared powder made your head spin. Of course, he would use the soaps and creams you wore when he first met you. The smell was engraved into his mind like a branding.

Although covered by a robe, you felt vulnerable. His gaze held strong. You weren’t sure if he was even blinking.

Sunday seemed too relaxed. Your freedom was a joke to him; what is freedom if you’re too busy giving your body to strangers? Did you want to go back to that life?

“You want me to get in the tub just so you can humiliate me,” you accused with a dangerous flash of your teeth.

You wanted to sound angry. You wanted to sound furious, but it was only a pitiful whimper of a phrase. You felt pathetically weak.

He was quick to answer, “I did not request your company.” He patted the book with golden edges that sat on a ledge of the bathtub. You didn’t want to ask of its contents. “You came here of your own fruition. You felt lonely.”

“You think you know everything about me.”

“But of course.” Sunday plucked the book from the ledge, careful not to wet the pages as he turned to the page he’d marked. “You are mine, after all.”

His tone was light. Confident.

Your face was burning. “Fuck you.”

Who even were you? Who were you next to him?

Nothing, was the appropriate answer. He insisted otherwise, though he’d never given you a definitive answer of what you were. He’d never explicitly stated you to be a whore, disobedient, disrespectful, too independent for your own good.

Everything you hated to hear about yourself, even if it was all true.

He’d only tut and usher you away with a wave of his hand.

You’re his, as well.

His teeth in your skin, his feathers tickling your neck, his wandering fingers that crept below your navel. He’s stained your skin with his. It’s hard to wash off—even harder when he shares the same soaps as you.

Perhaps he knows this, and that’s why he hopes you share a bath with him.

So you’re reminded that there’s a chain around your ankle.

“You’re a fuckin’ hypocrite, y’know. You think you’re so high and mighty, and yet you’re naked and pining after some street whore. And then you insist that I belong to you, but also beg for me beneath your own sheets.” But that wasn’t true.

As soon as the words left your lips you screwed your eyes shut and you leaned over the vanity.

His smile only grew, and the tip of his tongue touched the sharp edge of his canines.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the marble countertop.

Here he was, vulnerable. Susceptible to a swift slice of a blade to his neck, to being held beneath the surface of the water until he stopped flailing.

And you’re still so afraid of him.

He reads you like the book in his hands.

Sunday cooed. “Just like water, you are destructible, easily poisoned, and ever changing. You are lost, entrapped within four walls, so desperate to escape, but you cannot think for yourself.”

You furrowed your brows.

He turned the page of his book. The water sloshed as his arms moved.

The smell of coconut was hurting your head.

“You speak in tongues because you’re scared of ruining your perfect image,” you said. “You’re just an insecure little boy who's stuck in a daydream.”

That forced his head to turn. He almost snapped his book shut. Instead, his fingers froze on the edges of the crisp paper.

Then, he let out a hearty laugh.

“Allow me to rephrase: your beauty is wicked. It is rotten, vile, and evil.” The sweet scent of sugar was a cruel joke. It juxtaposed everything that spilled from his filthy lips. “Your blood is muddied and ruined. You’ve allowed strangers to see your skin.

“You’re lucky I’ve tolerated your behaviour for this long. If you were anybody else, you would have lost your foul tongue after our first night together.”

The way he said it all made you feel so much smaller than you were.

You finally turned around to face him. The reflection in the mirror made the bathtub seem further away than it actually was.

The tub was in the centre of the room, craved meticulously from a blue crystal. To you, it closely resembled aquamarine. It was big enough to be considered a swimming pool if you removed the golden faucet, but you refrained from insulting his fussy craftsmanship and adding fuel to the fire.

Sunday was particular about everything; sizing, shapes, colours. Everything had to match, everything had to make sense, everything had to be perfect and presentable. Any faults or flaws were dealt with swiftly, whether that be a person or an object. You weren’t sure if you were considered one or the other.

Then came the specifics. A ledge for placing things, voids in the walls for storing soaps, adequate cupboards, flooring, walls, forms, everything.

Aeons forbid you dropped a glass and scratched the precious tiling.

And he was particular about you, though he never clearly stated what he wanted from you.

He wanted you. That was clear from how he would coax you to join him with gentle words and fleeting touches. How he would stain your skin and leave an imprint of your body on his bedsheets.

Anything other than that was muddled, muddied, lost in his own deluded mind.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him again.

Sunday fluttered his lashes at you. “Nothing at all.”

“Have you ever told the truth?”

You had instinctively drawn yourself closer to him. You leaned over the tub, fingers curled around the rim of crystal.

Sunday sighed. He looked sick, like delusion had twisted through his mind like poison ivy crawling along the walls of the gardens outside. “You are afraid of the truth.”

“You’re lying again.” He wasn’t lying, but you refused to make him feel as though he was in control.

That was he fed off.

Your fear, your touch, your taste, your words, every inch of your skin. His. All of it.

“I want everything,” he stated.

You wanted to break the tub and slit his throat with the shards of crystal.

“I want you to give yourself to me. All of yourself.”

How selfish of him.

He still views you as an offering.

You turned away and moved to storm out of the bathroom. You would wait until he was finished. You couldn’t be in the room with him.

The steam was burning your skin, and your scent on him was making your head feel like it was splitting apart.

He grabbed your face and forced you to look back.

You would have described his eyes as beautiful; golden irides with hints of plush velvet and a deep sapphire. But all he did was stare. He’d never look away, and he never wished to.

He saw things you did not.

“I want undying loyalty.” When you squirmed, he held your cheeks harder. “I want hopeless devotion. I want compassion. I want to see the silhouette of you in my bed first thing every morning.”

Your nails were frozen digging into his wrist, still wet and hot from the water.

He seemed as though he wished to say more, though refrained when he let go of your face. He’d abandoned his book now, his gaze remaining locked onto you.

Your cheeks stung from his fingerprints. You feared the patterns would be burned into your flesh.

“I want you to stop,” you whispered.

You knew what he was doing.

“Oh, I will.” This time, when his fingers raised for your face, he simply grazed them along your sore cheek. “Join me.”

You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t even move from your spot, frozen as if he’d drawn ice down your spine.

You breathed out. Your fingers were trembling.

“I’m not stupid,” you said. You were trying to convince yourself it was true.

Sunday only tilted his head. “No, you’re not stupid.”

He was already pulling the string of the bow around your waist. His wings bristled.

“I know what you’re doing,” you insisted, holding onto the fluffy material when he undid the knot holding the robe together. “I know what you’re doing.”

He smiled playfully. His hands pushed away the robe. “What am I doing?”

Your eyes welled with tears.

You don’t know what he’s doing. You are stupid.

You wished you’d never met him. You wished you’d never let soft hands and kind words and those pretty eyes of his draw you into his bed.

You shouldn’t have ever crawled back to him.

You let out a pathetic sob.

“Oh, you sweet thing.”

Sunday tutted pitifully and offered his hand.

Almost instinctively, as if it had been written in your blood since the moment you were born, you took it and leaned into his embrace.

His hair smelled of sugared tea. The feathers of his wings grazed over your face, now soaked with your tears.

He gently drew you into the water, murmuring something bordering on praise. You didn’t even hear what he said.

“I will make you all better.”

The water was hot. His lips on your cheek made you dizzy. The mirror had completely steamed up by now, and your chest pressed flush against his.

You tried to push him off you. You tried. You really did. You’d done this before, many times. Letting him break you down and watching as you lost control of your limbs and clawed at him until he held you.

He was good at that. Predicting. Letting things form the way they always did.

You were so angry. Angry at yourself, at him, at everything. Weakly, you curled your fists and hit his shoulders defeatedly. You heard him laugh.

All you did was betray yourself, surrendering and stilling as his cold hands dipped below the water.

“I will make you whole again.”

[38riku]

𝐁𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐓.𝟐 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎂 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

includes ace and deuce (i was gonna add more but i hate it when i have a lot of drafts) this is part two. you can read part one here

warnings // none.

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀

Hey, Prefect, guess what day it is. I'll have you know it isn't an unbirthday—it's MY birthday! Which means I'm the star of the day. Wonder what kinda fun things are in store.

to his surprise the two of you had a similar idea of fun. in hindsight it isn't that much of a shock. you guys are together 24/7! as a group, not one on one like now.

there's really nothing different about it.

sure, it's nice having your undivided attention without a pesky feline hogging it. plus he can actually hear your laugh when he jokes. was it always like that? a funky yet endearing sound? probably.

he's starting to notice things that he should've a long time ago and it makes him feel weird.

you're thoughtful, to the point it makes him wanna gag.

"this place better be good. it's my birthday after all so i'm head honcho!" he exclaimed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the booth you shared.

"cater recommended it. i asked him what place in town had the best burgers and viola." you were too busy looking over the menu to see his face, and thank the seven you were, otherwise, you would've notice him gaping like a fish.

"oh! and they serve cherry pie! you think it's as good as — what's wrong with your face?"

jaw on the floor.

he was positive he only mentioned his favorite foods once or twice, yet, you remembered it.

and for a second time, he brushed off the odd feeling bubbling in his chest.

the last time was hard to ignore. you sprung a gift on him last minute before entering campus. it was, ironically, a deck of cards.

"learn a new trick other than a basic sleight." you joked, nudging him slightly. "oh! and don't let riddle see these. all the aces are an ace of hearts." winking, you bid him one more 'happy birthday' before leaving.

they were just a deck of trick cards. it wasn't anything special.

so why was his heart racing?

𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐄

Do you have plans later? Actually, no, I should get straight to the point. We're celebrating my birthday at Heartslabyul today. Would you come to the party?

he did it! he asked you, personally.

it may not seem like a big deal but riddle threatened to off his head if he didn't stop pacing. apparently it's against the rules to have inner turmoil on your birthday.

ace asked him why he was nervous. 'it's the prefect, we hang out all the time!' and yes, why that might be true, deuce had never invited done something like that.

delinquents don't have many friends. let alone birthday parties.

"happy birthday deuce-y!" the nickname ricocheted off the walls as you successfully stole the spotlight. "sorry i'm late but riddle said i had to be properly dressed or whatever."

your rant went in one ear and out the other.

he's never seen you dressed up and wow, you cleaned up nicely.

was it shock? freezing up, cheeks flush, trouble speaking, sweaty palms — his symptoms all align with shock. that has to be it.

"thanks for still showing up." he spoke after regaining basic functions. it didn't last long because you hugged him. arms around torso, face to face, lasting more than three seconds hug.

friends hug all the time. he's shared a similar embrace with ace, albeit riddle forced them to, but this is was not like that.

"course I showed up! fancy clothes wasn't gonna stop me from celebrating one of my best friends." your smile reach ear to ear and he struggled to remember if it was always that bright and pretty.

"we both know you're more tenacious than that."

deuce now understands why he was nervous.

© 2024 — 38riku. Do not copy or repost or plagiarize my work. All Rights Reserved.

[writing-with-moss]

Saw your post, and thought: why not?

Ok ok, imagine reader is a sleeper, and they like to sleep in most mornings. But one day they decided to wake up in the devil hours of the day and bake apple pie, waking up the 141 and they're generally concerned about reader's sleep schedule and health lmao.

If you understand what I mean.

thank you anon! I really appreciate the ask. My inbox had been really funky these last few days so I'm sorry it took so long!

Poly!TF141 x F!reader

TW/CW- mentions of anxiety and pregnancy, reader wears glasses and is called American, but nothing more than pure fluff!

It was dark when your eyes fluttered open. The warmth of the bed almost pulls you back to sleep. But you manage to get your eyes to stop drooping, your body lazily rolling over and glancing up at the clock.

3:20 a.m

You groan, might as well get up and start the day. So you sit up and swing yourself off the warm covers, leaving your comfy safehaven to maneuver through the dark room. Your hip brushes against a bookshelf and your hands enclose around your pair of glasses.

Finally able to see, you stumble into the kitchen, stretching out with a hum of pleasure, shivers running your spine. The gentle lamp light of the kitchen and the rumble in your stomach kept your socked feet moving along.

You settle on a book, wide open to a certain page. Apple Pie. Warm saliva filled your mouth at the thought of what you had been craving for weeks now. It had been so intense your boyfriends thought you might've been pregnant.

You open up the cupboards and drag out a few bowls, cutting up a few apples.

You must've been too loud because you were halfway into pouring the filling when a large form fills the doorway.

"Wha' da 'ell ya doin' Bonnie?" A sleepy Scottish man grumbles, stumbling towards you in just his boxers. "Cant feckin' sleep with so much bloody ruckus-"

He pauses at your baking, raising a brow. You turn and give a weak smile. "Sorry....Didn't mean to."

"Wha' da 'ell are you makin'?" A rougher voice came from the doorway, a man in matching black sweats stood behind Soap, tilting his head to watch you work.

"Apple Pie." You curtly answered, smiling as you hummed along, popping the dish into the oven.

"Yer so feckin' American." Soap wraps his arms warmly around your waist as he pecks a few kisses to your jaw. His stubble brushing against your cheek, causing a giggle to bubble in your chest. Ghosts warm hand landing on the back of your head to scratch at your scalp before gently tugging at Soaps Mohawk.

Johnny sticks his tongue out at him, before smiling. Ghost responding roughly. "Yer hair makes ya look like a fecking rooster."

Before he could reply, another man walked in.

"American apple pie huh?" Price came in with an almost concerned expression, pouring a mug of steaming coffee. "Yer up early baby. Somethin' goin' on?"

You shake your head. "Don't think so. Just had some cravings and got up early." Soap buries his head a bit deeper into your shoulder as he chuckles.

"You sure you ain't pregnant?" You elbow his side and he laughs, pulling back with a grin. Hopping onto the counter.

"I am not!" Ghost side eyes you and you huff, laughing. "Trust me, I would know. I already took a test. I. Am. Not. Pregnant."

"What about pregnancy- Oh is that apple pie?" Gaz suddenly pops into the kitchen, scratching his chin. "You okay babe? You're up really early."

"Yeah, I just woke up weirdly early. I dunno."

Price tilts his head, wrapping his arm around Gaz' shoulder as they cuddle up. "You anxious?"

"Maybe? I think I'll be okay." You respond, sighing as you cross your arms over your chest. Ghost gently pulls you a bit closer, enveloping you in warmth.

"We're always here for ya. Our sweet girl." He pecks a firm kiss to your forehead and they all nod.

Soap grins slightly. "But are you sure you aren't?-" You throw your towel at him before he can finish.

(Hopefully this is good enough! Thanks for the ask Anon! Requests are open!)

[wonysugar]

birthday party | annyeongz

synopsis : your favorite couple, yujin and wonyoung, come over and give you a personal birthday party.

this is for the beautiful woman that is ena, one of my bestest friends, happy birthday to @pupyuj<33 here’s your gift mwah eat well i hope you had a wonderful day today i love youuu

pairing : gp!yujin x wonyoung x birthdaygirl!reader

genre : smut!!

tags : it’s your birthday!! birthday sex, drunk sex, daddy kink, mommy kink, threesomes, blowjob, g!p yujin, clit play, dirty talk, yknow, that funky stuff, annyeongz are dating! they call you a whore, bitch in heat, all of that stuff yippeee

a/n : this is not proofread sorry if there are any spelling mistakes~~

warnings : none! :]

word count : 1.2k

dingg!

you excitedly jump upon hearing your doorbell and rush over to your front door to open it, immediately greeted by your two best friends, wonyoung and yujin, grinning widely. 

“happy birthday!” they yelled in unison as wonyoung went and hugged you, the both of them completely unaware of the fact that they’re still very much in the hallways of your apartment complex. you panicked, gently let go of wonyoung then dragged the couple into your home, quickly.

“not so loud???” you giggled, checking to see if any of your neighbors heard before closing the door instantly as your friends laughed with you, “but thank you so much guys, i’m so glad you could make it.” you smiled softly.

“of course y/n! how could we miss your birthday, c’mon now.” said yujin, settling the cake they bought you down on your living room table. wonyoung, as for her, she gently put down the huge bottle of alcohol on that same table. you stared at her in joking disbelief. in response, she guiltily smiled back at you.

“what? it’s your birthday, you havee to get wasted.” she tried justifying, but you saw past her tricks.

“oh be serious, you totally brought that just so you could get drunk out of your mind.” you responded, earning a joking eye roll from her, and a laugh from her girlfriend. 

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like getting drunk that night, though.

-

“ughh stop sulkinggg i already said that i was sorry. i’m sorry i forgot it y/nnn, i’ll bring you your gift tomorrow i promiseee. come on, how can i make it up to you??” affirmed a tipsy yujin as you narrowed your eyes at her, also very intoxicated. wonyoung, on her side of the table, was sat down just like all of you and was quiet as a mouse as she watched it all happen, clearly amused by the scene.

don’t be fooled, though, she was drunk too.

“hmmmm… only way i’d forgive you is… if you and your girl fucked me really well, to be honesttt.” is what unintentionally slipped out of your mouth. they were not lying when they said that the truth comes out when you’re not sober. yujin’s expression changed, her smile dropping by the millisecond.

shit.

shit?? yeah, you were drunk enough to let that happen, but you were also sober enough to grasp that saying that was not something you could just say.

“ahahah– sorry that was.. that was a bad joke-”

yujin laughed as she finally stood up from the ground, unzipping her jeans’ bracket– what the fuck. what the fuck was going on? was she actually gonna fuck you?? why the fuck was she hard??? already???? huh?????

whatever it was, wonyoung liked it, cause when you looked at her with a confused expression, she seemed even more amused now. 

“guess we gotta give the birthday girl what she wants, right?” 

no seriously what.

“wh– yujin, what are you doing–”

she approached you, then grabbed your jaw, her drunken gaze piercing through your, also very drunken, gaze,  “it’s daddy to you now, got it?”

okay. maybe you could get behind this. whatever was going on, you liked it more than you’d like to admit.

you nodded reluctantly. as soon as you did, she smirked and quickly took off her belt, her pants and pulled down her boxers right after, her hard cock springing out. dear god, was it girthy. would it be whorish to say that you drooled a tad bit at the sight? well, even if it was, it was the truth.

“take off your skirt and go sit on mommy’s lap.” she coldly ordered, throwing a glance watching you look up at her as she lightly stroked the whole length of her dick.

with how drunk you were, you tried connecting the dots. since she was daddy, you could only assume that the ‘mommy’ in question was her girlfriend; wonyoung. you looked back at the latter, she was smiling at you with hooded eyes, patting her lap, indicating for you to take a seat. you enthusiastically took off your skirt and crawled over to her, already getting used to the role of the whore they wanted you to be for them. 

once you got to wonyoung, her lips immediately met yours, the kiss hungry and passionate. she grabbed you and sat you down on her lap as she kept kissing you from behind, immediately feeling your slick coat on her thigh.

“so needy already, hm baby?” she asked you, moments before tossing aside your hair and planting wet kisses down your neck, earning eager nods and soft whimpers from you. “don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, right my love?” she added, looking at yujin with lustful eyes. yujin only got closer to you and watched as you melted under her girlfriend’s touch. she was so turned on from the scene, staring back into wonyoung’s eyes like she wanted to eat her whole, and it showed. she eventually looked down at you, slapping her rock hard dick onto your face.

“come on, open your mouth, darling, she’s got a birthday gift for you, you’re not gonna reject it, right?” whispered softly wonyoung into your ear moments before nibbling on it, placing her hand and gently rubbing on your clothed cunt as encouragement.

immediately, you obeyed and took yujin all at once, looking up at her. she didn’t waste any time, either. she forcefully shoved her cock into you, her tip hitting the back of your throat as she grunted, earning multiple, and i mean multiple, gags from you. as for, wonyoung was still teasing your clit through your panties.

“oh you just love daddy’s cock, don’t you, princess?” she asked you, biting her bottom lip as she tried suppressing her low moans, watching you nod as you moaned shamelessly, mouth full, “look at you, sucking me off like a– mmh— fucking whore. tell me you like daddy’s dick, come onnn.. i wanna hear you say it.” she added.

“honey, her mouth is full of you, she can’t even respond to you.” responded your best friend for you, her hand already inside your panties, twirling and playing with your throbbing clit while her other hand was on your waist, helping you ride her thigh. 

“do you think the slut’s enjoying— fuckk– having her mouth used, baby?” she asked her girlfriend whilst caressing her soft hair.

“hmm.. she is really drenched, and she is grinding on my thigh like a bitch in heat, sooo… i think she does enjoy it. maybe she even wants you to fuck her throat rougher, don’t you think?”

you felt used, you felt good, you felt... theirs. it was like, at the end of the day, they were just a couple playing with you like a toy on the day of your birthday until you were driven to the edge, and you thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. yujin thrusted into your mouth, wonyoung rubbed your clit as you rode her thigh, and that was going on for a long, until yujin climaxed because, as embarrassing as it may be, feeling her warm load in your droop down your gullet turned you on so much that you just came at that moment.

and just when you thought it was over, wonyoung giggled in your ear,

“you don’t think it’s over already, right? this may be your birthday, but you don’t get to decide. mommy still hasn’t gotten to feel good.” she looked over to a smirking yujin, whose dick was already somewhat hard at the thought again.

oh lord. you were far from being done.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Had a funky idea.. what about a Charlie x Pinkie Pie like! Reader? :)

Haha! Awwww! This is my first time ever trying out Charlie! For real, Charlie would absolutely love Pinkie Pie and we know it! I wanted to do romantic but for some reason, I can’t really get anything out unlike what I wanted so sorry, this is solely platonic!

Charlotte Morningstar- Balloon Soul

Charlie is a sweetheart. She loves the concepts of positivity, sunshine, rainbows and cupcakes. Anything good has her one hundred percent attention. So when she meets you, the embodiment of joy! She automatically befriends you and learns about you

She doesn’t understand how you are a Sinner. You’re beaming with hyperactivity and happiness. Yet, here you are. Instead of being a client, she hires you to work at her Hotel since you’re simply perfect at spreading redemption with your good-hearted energetic character

Charlie will happily attend any party you throw; outside of the Hotel or inside the Hotel. She also relies on you to be the general activity planner since you’re really creative and quite capable of organisation. Even better than her girlfriend, Vaggie. You become a valuable member in no time!

Charlie also enjoys telling you her favourite sweet flavours because you’ll come in with cupcakes or a big cake, all for her! The fact you remember absolutely everything about her makes her heart flutter. She adores you, you’re basically another version of her… just a bit more talkative, jokey and loud but the personality you two share is why she likes you so much, you bond so well with people

Charlie is so close to you, you’re basically her right hand lady, that her girlfriend, Vaggie, gets jealous of you and she has to clear it up with Vaggie to ensure nothing goes back inbetween her best friend and her love

Charlie really appreciates how much of a sweetheart you are as well. You’re a very good friend, warm-hearted and sympathetic whilst working hard to make people smile so when she feels down, you’d make sure she is laughing and smiling again in no time. She loves this

Charlie is the first one there and the last one out of anything you arrange; farewell party, we succeeded party, birthday party, couple anniversary party, we redeemed sinners party! Anything, she’s dolling herself up to get your approval and she adores how cute your party-accessorised ball gown is

Charlie actually turns to you for emotional support. Believe it or not. You may be hyper and childish but you’re actually really emotionally well-adjusted and with your backstory of being a dull, miserable child that found happiness through colour. She looks to you for advice when she needs it inside a sad dark place

Charlie also leans on you heavily, you’re her right hand and she knows you won’t mock her in any fashion. Suspect her to rant to you about her problems with her relationship with Vaggie(rest easy Alastor) and there is very little times that she doesn’t take what you offer her

Charlie likes your hair… it makes no sense but she loves brushing and tying it up for you. It’s a big bubbly mess but it’s a beautiful bubbly mess. You two can trade doing hairstyles together early in the morning and it’s precious. Charlie feels more pretty when her best friend and her girlfriend say she is

Charlie is quite good at handling how talkative and upbeat you are. You talk as much as she does and therefore, she is really the only person in the Hotel that can tolerate how much of a high-spirit chatterbox you are. She enjoys it since you act like she is your younger sister, she is fine with you always chatting

Charlie likes how cute your Hellborn alligator friend is, Gummy. It’s a adorable fang-less baby alligator that is clamped on your hair and she’ll happily help you care for him when you can’t and she is getting use to the feeling of a small Hellborn alligator clung onto her ponytail by his tough gummy jaws… it’s not as uncomfortable as she thought

“Leitora! Leitora! Here! Here! Look at this balloon animal I made! It’s just like the one you made for me! Do you think Vaggie would like it? Do you like it? I like it! Are you proud of it?”

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT - 24 Months

Well, these past couple months have been hell, with a light at the end of the tunnel that I’ve now reached, but still. Anyway, on with the show…

So, before I get into the really gritty stuff, my jaw and teeth were converted pretty early on, as well as my ear bones. The former were a little funky, but honestly nothing really changed there, since I already don’t need to chew things, losing my teeth was no big deal, and for the latter, there was a small blip in my hearing - for a few minutes - but then it came back, honestly better than before. I wasn’t super worried about the hearing loss, particularly after eyes taste and smell, only how long I'd be deaf for, but fortunately, as I said, it really wasn't a problem. I’m pretty sure that my slime has just replaced my inner ear’s function innately, and since hearing is just interpreted vibrations, and slime is pretty good at vibrating. What was and has been nice is the cat ears I made a few months back can now actually function, which took a little getting used to, but my hearing is super good now, if a little overwhelming at times.

Right, on to the less pleasant parts: Remember how in the last update I said that apparently you know when your brain goes, yeah, that’s true, and it’s ‘cause it’s genuinely the most painful, disorienting, and scary thing I have ever experienced. First of all, unlike a lot of other changes, it kinda just goes all at once - I think it’s a survival thing, the brain/core wouldn’t function while being half transformed, and it’d probably kill you if they tried to. Only issue is that this means that your brain basically dissolves over the course of a few hours, which is excruciating, and the weeks leading up to that absolutely suck as well.

The first thing I noticed was the pain - headaches, some of the worst I’ve ever had (which I know I’ve said a lot over the course of this, but I was fortunate before to have very little issues, and turns out transforming your whole body hurts). I tried to take some painkillers to help, but they don’t seem to work any more - not sure if it’s ‘cause my biology is so different now, or ‘cause my body breaks them down too well, but either way they don’t work, so I had to suffer through the pain.

Either on top of or because of the pain, I've had a general sense of disorientation. It started off as just sometimes getting a little turned around in games and the like, but it progressed to getting lost if I tried to go anywhere (which was compounded by some other stuff too). Frankly it's a good thing in the final days before my brain changed that I hurt too much to go anywhere, else I probably would have ended up somewhere entirely unknown at a really vulnerable stage in my transformation.

I also have had some memory issues while things have worked things out. My memory has never been amazing in the first place, but I started to get very forgetful, forgetting appointments, plans, even eating (I'd usually ‘remember’ when I started idly eating random things I had around, which has meant I've lost a few things, but I don't remember what so I'm keep finding things I need to replace). I’m also pretty sure I lost some older memories too, but it’s really hard to tell if that’s from normal forgetting or forgetting ‘cause my brain was becoming mush, it’s kinda scary not knowing. This is also part of what compounded my disorientation - when telling left from right is getting hard, forgetting where you're even meant to go or have come from only makes things worse. Also, try reforming yourself from a puddle when you barely remember what you were before… definitely had some interesting shapes recently. Honestly, it was terrifying, I actually didn't know if I'd ever be able to remember things again (obviously I can, but I didn't know that at the time, and my memory of that period are sketchy at best)

Of course, the pain I mentioned earlier made it hard to focus on things, but even beyond that my ability to focus seemed to vanish. I have been so easily distracted over the past couple of months. Genuinely a glint of light or something could completely draw my attention from whatever I was doing, and then I'd usually completely forget what I was doing, get distracted by something else and wonder off. I apparently walked off in the middle of so many games and videos and just any activity I was doing. Frankly it's a miracle that I have any notes, or remember enough to actually write this entry, I kinda spent most of this last month piecing together what I do remember and have notes of (the notes are not the most legible, worse than my normal handwriting which is awful anyways (there's a reason I type these updates)). 

On top of all this, I also had nightmares and hallucinations. The former sucked, but honestly asides from waking up in some weird shapes in attempts to either fight or defend myself from whatever was jumping me in the nightmare (assuming it was a monster one) they were over once I woke up. The hallucinations were worse, since they could appear at any time, and oh boy do they seem real. Sometimes they were small things, noises, or a shape in my periphery. Other times they were blurry, intimidating figures in the distance. And of course with my inability to focus on things, these hallucinations would only be another thing to distract my addled brain. The worst though, was waking up from a nightmare, a puddle unable to reform, and the nightmare continuing as a hallucination in the real world. That'd usually shake me up for a day - and annoyingly my memory issues didn't really seem to extend to them. I'm still working out what was real and fake from that time, and it has not been easy, or fun. My ‘brain’ feels like goddamn soup whenever I think about that time. 

On top of everything else, sometimes I'd faint. Sometimes due to pain, other times (particularly towards the end of the transformation) I'd just keel over, only to wake up in a puddle of myself. It was really disconcerting and scary… kinda felt like my brain was just cutting out, and I was a little scared it might not cut back in at some point… and of course that’s one of the things I remember clearly, the fear and worry of that - very clear that the ‘remember bad shit’ survival instinct was and still is functioning, as annoying as that is.

Since I don't particularly want to linger on those thoughts more than I already have, an interesting thing to note is that even through all of this, my actual mental faculties didn't diminish - while I was forgetful and distracted, if I managed to make myself, I found myself just as capable as before. I partially did this to help assure myself I wasn't losing myself, but also because, let's be honest, slimes aren't known for being the brightest bunch, and I've been a little worried this whole time that I'd get dumber or something. The pamphlet I was given didn't really say anything about this happening, but I know from trans hrt that the information your given doesn't always include every possible effect (I know it certainly failed to mention the attention issues during the most recent stage, and the blindness from before) 

But, despite last month being basically the worst month of my life, I have survived, albeit a little scrambled, and I'm slowly putting everything back together. And of course, now, there's nothing human left in me! I'm all slime!!! (It makes me so unbelievably happy to be able to say that now).

Interestingly, unlike everything else, my brain hasn't fully gone, instead I ended up with what I quickly realised is a slime core! For those unfamiliar, slimes can have a core, which is essentially like their brain/major organ inside them, usually looking like a small coloured sphere. While slimes are usually pretty hard to damage permanently, damage done to a slimes core can be very debilitating, like heart, brain, or lung damage for humans and stuff. 

I actually think I had a kind of proto-core before hand, but didn't notice it, and I think it came around about when my digestive system was changed, since I think my core manages matter-to-slime conversion (I'm guessing this ‘cause that's improved since my core has now fully formed). I guess I didn’t spy it before ‘cause it was too small or something?

On that note, my core is/looks like, interestingly, a kind of verdant green gem. It mostly just seems to float inside of my goo, although I can move it around my body wherever I like, but I tend to keep it either right in the middle of my torso, or in the middle of my chest (at least in human form). Both areas have a decent amount of goo protecting my core, and it looks neat to have it there. 

It does actually look really pretty, especially when taken outside of my body (don't worry, it can be taken out of my body, so long as it remains in contact with my goo I'm completely fine), and yeah, just kinda looks like a funky green stone/gem. I am curious as to why it's green, and I'm kinda hoping it's gonna boost the efficiency of my photosynthesis, and that it's green ‘cause of chlorophyll, but I don't honestly know yet, need some nice sunny days to properly test it out. 

I did find out that if my core does become separated from my goo, I can just reform another body from stored goo around the core, leaving the old body to fall (but I can just reabsorb it afterwards to maintain mass). Oh, and before anyone worries that I was being reckless, I made sure to check that I wouldn't die before I tested anything.

On the note of stored goo, it seems like excess goo/matter is stored in the core, like fat in humans. I'm not sure what or if there's a limit or what happens if I try to eat too much, but as far as I've gotten for now, it seems to be fine. I have noticed that I actually seem lighter now, I still seem to weigh about as much as I look like I should (maybe slightly over) and as such it changes if I make myself grow bigger, but not really if I eat things. I'm not entirely sure quite what's going on there, as that seems like some physics defying shit, but it's actually super useful, means I can store as much mass as I'd like and not break the sofa when I sit down. 

So asides from all of those experiences and changes, I've found a couple other things that have sprung up from these changes. Firstly, I've found that my body feels much more coherent, I'm very much now one gelatinous entity, rather than bits of one and bits of another. Movement feels much more fluid now, especially outside of a humanoid form (not that I've gotten worse at being humanoid, just better at everything else) and I honestly find myself kind of hot swapping between slime ball and slime girl as I need/feel like it. Also navigating crowds is super easy now, just kinda slipping and moving between any gaps (I could kinda do this before, but again, now it feels so second nature). On top of this, my multitasking seems to have improved. I still can’t say one thing while writing another, but I've gotten better at physical multitasking; I struggle less coordinating my ‘hands’ when I try playing the piano for example (I still can't play it, but I've got more of the coordination for it). Add in that I can very easily have several limbs/pseudopods/whatever you want to call them at once (which is honestly why I think my multitasking has improved, it's to facilitate control of the numerous structures I can now produce) and it’s become very easy to manage multiple, physical, tasks at once. 

One thing I have noticed myself doing, almost subconsciously (and honestly, this might've started a little before now, but I'll talk about it here, since I've really noticed it now), I'll just adjust my body however I need in the moment. Now, this may sound kind of obvious, but it's a little funky (but mostly neat) to just suddenly grow an extra limb, or pseudopod to hold or grab something quickly, or to just adjust my mass to better balance or manage something. Again, very neat, but a little funky to realise when I didn't consciously think about it. 

Relatedly, shaping has become easier, not sure if that's due to practise, or having a more compatible neurological centre, but I seem to be able to shape myself quicker, and I seem to have gained a better memory for shape too, the latter is definitely due to recent changes, or at least, definitely due to the treatment.

I've  also still been working on my acid control, which feels like it's gotten easier, but again I can't say whether that's from practice or the recent changes, but I can at least somewhat reliably keep an area of my body acid free now for a bit.

Unrelated to the treatment, but I'm actually much shorter now, at least in my humanoid form, clocking in at around 4’4”(slime ball form has remained the same size, at around 30cm tall). I always liked the idea of being really small, and I can now, and it's not like it really offers any disadvantages, since I can just reach tendrils up to grab things from high up (with eyes/vision so I can see what I'm doing), plus it means I have more spare slime to spend on other, more fun things than just being tall. This all being said, the idea of using all my slime to become really big also has its appeals, but it's less practical for day to day life. 

To touch on one final thing, I definitely don't feel human anymore. I'm a slime, through and through, humanity is just a memory. I've mentioned before feeling more and more detached from humanity (if I ever felt truly attached) as this process has gone on, but now that I'm seemingly done, I don't feel human at all. Interestingly, I find this aspect has been remarkably similar to gender transition, with the feeling of being a guy slowly fading away until it seemed alien to think of myself as one, which kinda feels like where I'm at at the moment. I'll likely catch myself still including myself in humanity from time to time for a while, but I can safely say I'm a slime, and I am so happy I can now. So that’s what my life has been for the last couple of months, and while parts sucked - like, really sucked - the end result is so unbelievably worth it. While this feels like the end of slime hrt, I do have an appointment planned with the doc to talk about my next step and hopefully get myself onto shapeshifter hrt, so my next update will probably be about that. See y’all then!

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Tag list below cut (lmk if you want to be added)

@calliecwrites, @friedsputnik, @now-entering-the-goop-zone, @scrubbinn, @lilacinthefog

@mint-and-authoress, @losttodreams, @redroversendjayover, @ariathelamia, @kanithedemoncat

[wild0moon]

eating up ur captain design............ /pos

can i ask how pico and captain met in your au (i think its an au anyway)?

very canon adjacent, but it's an au, yeah. my friend and i's funky little universe just to the left of canon where we take things too seriously, you feel me

short version: they happened to meet at a cop shop while pico was waiting for (yet another) police interrogation, weeks to a month after the events of pico's school. john took an interest in pico and offered, mostly as a joke, to teach pico how to handle a gun properly. what was supposed to be a one-off lesson for a quick bit of entertainment turned into regular practice sessions and accidental (but immediate) emotional attachment from both parties. whoops!

and if you'll indulge me, here's the long version, because it's been brewing in my brain recently and i guess my hand slipped

(WARNING: descriptions of and vague flashbacks to the events of pico's school)

💚💚💚💚💚

The police station was usually quiet at this time of day. Idle tapping of fingers against a keyboard, muffled sounds of cars passing outside or of people talking in another room, none obtrusive enough to disturb the thoughts swirling in his head.

Now though, he was entirely preoccupied by annoyance.

Shut up. Why are you so loud? If you don't like pigs, why did you even come in here?

Pico had seen the strange man in black from the corner of his eye, swaggering in like he owned the place, only to start chatting to the receptionist with all the warm familiarity of two former classmates who never really liked each other very much. Derisive whispers in Pico's head grew louder in concert with his rising stress, adding to the noise, birthing a cacophony he couldn't escape from.

The man went quiet, and for a brief moment, Pico was sure he felt eyes on him. His own gaze stayed firmly on his sneakers.

The receptionist finally piped up with something other than a disinterested hum. "That's, uh, that Pico kid. Pico Fulp?"

"Ohh, so you're the kid who shot up his school."

Pico's head snapped up.

In an instant, his vision was dyed red, blood running so hot it threatened to burn him up from the inside. He didn't know when he got to his feet, but he was already taking steps toward the man.

"It wasn't me!" he snarled, words bubbling up and bursting out before he could stop them. "It wasn't! Watch your fucking mouth or I'll break your jaw, you stupid—"

"I got it, kid, calm down," the man talked him down, in a far more stern tone than Pico had been ready for, stopping him in his tracks. Matter-of-factly, he added: "I don't care how tough you are, you've got another thing coming if you think you can break any bone in my body."

Pico grit his teeth, fists clenched at his sides.

The white-hot fire of rage burnt out almost as quickly as it ignited, his little body only growing colder as he actually looked at the man standing before him, red giving way to black and white.

Tall and broad-shouldered, wearing sunglasses so dark it was almost impossible to see the inscrutable eyes behind them. He was uniformed — the army, not the police. Which rank was the three stripes for? Was the 'Captain' on the tag his rank, or his name?

Pico dared to speak up again. "It wasn't me," he repeated, far softer than before.

Captain turned bodily to face him. "I heard you the first time. So, what did you actually do?"

He looked away again, wringing his freshly scarred hands. "I... I stopped it, sir. I killed the shooters."

The slight movement of Captain's eyebrows snared the corner of Pico's vision. "Really now?"

"I... I found a big gun in the janitor's closet, they must've stashed it in there," the words spilled forth, as if he were back in that vile interrogation room already. "So I took it, and I shot them. All of them. There were four, a-and I didn't even know what I was doing, I was scared out of my mind, I'd never held a gun before in my life, I don't know how I—"

"You've never used a gun, but you still managed to take down four armed threats all by yourself?" There was a note of interest in Captain's voice, despite him crossing his arms.

Pico swallowed thickly.

"Please leave me alone!"

"I was told to just scare you! I wasn't gonna kill you!"

"...Two of them weren't moving, sir. I'd disarmed them, and they were afraid..."

Captain hummed. "Right. And the other two?"

No answer. Memories of callous men in blue giving him withering looks or laughing in his face when he told the truth kept his jaw clamped shut.

Captain lifted his head, looking around the otherwise empty room. "Where are your parents?"

A half-hearted shrug. "They don't want anything to do with me right now, sir."

They never did in the first place.

The soldier's thick eyebrows furrowed, but for the life of him, Pico wasn't sure what it meant. The man was as easy to read as a book with all its pages glued together. That, or he was just illiterate.

"I probably only lived because we were all just kids who barely knew what we were doing," Pico found himself saying, as if he hadn't also slaughtered a giant alien that day — Cassandra had been young and inexperienced in her own way, too. "If something like that happened again, I… I dunno."

Captain said nothing, just staring down at him, seeming thoughtful.

Silence fell over the room for a long moment, disturbed faintly by the nasty voices Pico had learned only he could hear. When the man's voice broke through the murmurs again, it hardly sounded any kinder.

"Look, if I were you, I'd stop pissing myself and go get some actual experience under my belt."

"But—"

He wasn't done. "You know where the gun range is, right? The one five minutes north of here? Meet me there at thirteen-hundred tomorrow. Even a minute late and the offer expires, got it?"

…What?

Pico lifted his gaze to meet Captain's, incredulous. "You mean... But, why would you help me?"

It was Captain's turn to offer a lazy shrug. "I'm bored outta my skull, and this is the most entertainment I've gotten in months."

He said that, but he didn't look very amused. Besides, a soldier like him surely didn't have time to waste on such petty entertainment as watching a child grappling with fear. Pico tried scrutinizing the man's face for a moment longer, unsure what he was even searching for, but quickly found himself at a loss.

The easy answer was that it was a genuine offer to help, to teach him how to properly handle a firearm and put that aspect of his trepidation to rest. Pico wasn't sure if he believed that, but for some reason, he really hoped it was true. That would mean that Captain saw something in him, something more than the unfortunate kid and murderer that the other adults saw, something worth taking a chance on.

Nice. This man, a total stranger, was being nice.

When was the last time anyone said something nice to him?

(Weeks ago, in a sterile hospital room, two hands gently clasping one of his own, their owner smiling in spite of the anxiety behind those pretty black eyes, the sweetest voice Pico had ever heard telling him over and over how everything was going to be okay—)

Pico shook his head, as if he could physically clear the memory away.

He's gone now. Stop thinking about him.

By the time Pico dragged himself back to the present, Captain was already on the way out, muttering something about the stench of hogs. Pico watched him walk away, until he disappeared from view.

"Prick," the receptionist muttered, returning their attention to their computer.

With little else to do, Pico returned to his seat. His own thoughts quickly took center stage as usual, but they were different now, looking tentatively to the future, rather than the bloody memories that tugged insistently at his back.

It had been a while since he had something to look forward to.

[thegreatyin]

*claps* alright lets go over my own master bat species kin assignments then. most of these takes are either based on things i've seen from other people and adopted into my own worldview or just. completely and utterly based on how cute the bat looks. mostly the latter, actually. i have a weakness for cute bats.

The Bandaged Scoundrel/This blog's resident Mr Cards - i simply cannot make a bat list without including her on at least an honorary level. you know her, you hate her, you (debatably) love her, the scoundrel is destined to look like an eastern red bat!!!!! she is so so so fluffy and so so so cute and all of her war crimes are excused forever and ever because look at her itty bitty little face

Mr Veils - going completely with the grain of fandom opinion here, veils is 100% a spectral bat in my eyes. it just. it works so well. it's the largest bat in america. it's one of the few bat species known to eat other bats. its jaw strength is absolutely insane. it's one of very few monogamous bat species, which may seem like an odd detail when listing reasons why it's like veils, but also that beast is incredibly divorced and to this day struggling to cope with said divorce and you cannot convince me otherwise. just. just look at that thing. just Look at its face. that is the face of a creature who knows what its done and is completely and utterly unrepentant about it. veils spectral bat numero uno

Mr Spices - this lazy evil milf is a pygmy fruit eating bat!! there is no strong reasoning behind this choice besides "looks like it would roll around in a pile of crack" and "is very small". i have nothing to say beyond appreciating the little racing stripes on its head. i think they add character. speaking of size differences-

Mr Wines - i've seen a lot of people dub wines a golden-crowned flying fox, which i mostly agree with, except i also discovered spectacled flying foxes exist and have you SEEN their little faces?? their big ol eyes?? their funky little guy swag?? there's not really any particular reason i chose this species above golden-crowned flying foxes (in fact, that one probably does fit wines better), i just really really like their cute little face markings and figured wines having the same thing would be cute. it's a distraction from how unapologetically vile its personality is

Mr Pages - pallid bat. i also have absolutely no justification for this choice. i just think it Looks Like A Pages™. the big ol ears and little snout to balance glasses on?? come on. you can see it. i'm not crazy. that's just a pages creature right there

Mr Fires - HOARY BAT MY BELOVED!!! there is some actual reasoning behind this choice (the bright orange fur around its neck can be used as an analogue for fire, the powdered donut swag on the rest of its body is a bit like smoke, etc) but mostly it comes down to me thinking it'd be really really funny if fires did all of the crimes that it does while being really tiny and having a baby face. look at it. joy and whimsy in its eyes. i just know it's thinking about tormenting union workers as we speak.

Mr Apples/Mr Hearts/Mr Happles/Mr Seriously Needs To Pick One Name And Stick To It Already - this one is just here for completionist's sake. happles is a common vampire bat. we have canon artwork of its face. i'm just using this as an opportunity to force more bat pictures upon ye.

Mr Iron - it is the swords bat. it is the grumpy bat. it is the grumpy swords bat. there is no bat that suits iron more than a literal swords-nosed bat, on account of the fact that it has a sword for a nose and looks kinda grumpy in this picture.

Mr Stones - everyone's dearly beloved little hoarder is BALD BALD BALD BALD BALD BALD BALD a naked bulldog bat. my reasoning? stones feels like the type to compensate for its lack of fur by way of strutting around dressed to the nines in jewelry. also, it's gotta be developing some insane muscles from being weighed down by diamonds 24/7, and what better way to let that show than via a bat that has no fur to obscure them?

Mr Cups and Mr Mirrors - whatever their relation may be, these two share a species in my mind, and that species is the mexican free-tailed bat. this is, much like pages, purely a vibes thing. it just looks like a cups. if you told me this little guy used its whiskers to dig around for trash i'd 100% believe you. mirrors mostly just shares its species by virtue of association, though i do like the idea of it being a silver-haired bat of some kind.

and those are all of my bat takes! feel free to tell me how much i suck and am wrong lmao

[pluttskutt]

Character Profile Tag

tagged by @illarian-rambling thank you! :D [her post]

Rules: Answer the questions for one of your characters

Full name: Lucy Hilda Thompson

Age: Disputed because I don't set age but late 20s to early 30s in the series

Gender: Cis woman

Type of Being: Human and only human; nothing to see here

Appearance: She's white, blond with grey eyes, a big nose from profile perspective with a bump, strong square jaw, and she has a metal arm

Way of speaking: Somewhat formal in English and not good at slang with an accent that's hard to pin-point. It's Swedish, obvs, but not many countries still exist in my series

Physical characteristics: She's missing her left arm due to an accident and her nose is important

Occupation: Soldier -> Fugitive

Family: Dead

Best friend: Dead

Pets: She never had one but if she had, it'd be dead too

Relationships: She becomes friends with those in her squad, but when she becomes a fugitive those friendships are lost. She does make friends with the space pirates

Describe their room: Last time she had a room she was 16, so it had a chair for clothes, an assortment of perfumes, earrings in neon colours and funky shapes,a chunky TV, and, of course, the radio/CD player.

Items in their bag/purse: She doesn't carry either

Hobbies: Fika, training, films

Favourite sport: Ha

Abilities/talents/powers: Nothing! Totally human, nothing to see her, just a metal arm that gives her super-strength that's got nothing to do with anything else or any Deity or something

Fears: Not being strong enough to get her revenge, which later turns into not being able to protect the ones she cares about (again)

Faults: Doesn't ever explain her thought proccess, which makes it seem like she's just torning coat after the wind without any reason or principle. Reactive and rash. Will not heed orders unless she has a gain for it. Angers easily and yells. Judgemental.

Good points: Protective. Loyal. Determined.

What they want more than anything else: To make it right and die to be reunited with her family and friends

I tag: @tildeathiwillwrite @amaiguri @oh-no-another-idea @new-royston-cursebreakers @cocoamoonmalfoy @kaylinalexanderbooks @laureleavess @ieppiq @dontjudgemeimawriter @revenantlore + open tag! (no pressure tagsobvs)

Full name: Age: Gender: Type of Being: Appearance: Way of speaking: Physical characteristics: Occupation: Family: Best friend: Pets: Relationships: Describe their room: Items in their bag/purse: Hobbies: Favourite sport: Abilities/talents/powers: Fears: Faults: Good points: What they want more than anything else:

[leafnighthybridwolfsbane]

Nightwings

(Info below the cut)

Here is the first tribe I will share my headcanons with. This is one of my personal favorite tribes. Maybe it's because I love the stars, but hey, that's just me though. Anyway, this was the first tribe I drew. Now, the moment y'all have been waiting for, the headcanons for the tribe! (Edit as I'm typing: Tumblr is being funky, so it'll be in reversed in what I was hoping to share it in.)

Drawing Inspirations/Help

The body is similar to that of a Maine Coon.

Back legs are similar to that of a German Shepherd.

Coloration can be anything that calls back to a night sky. This can also include different colors, not just a monochrome palette.

Eye colors can be just about any color as long as it's in a nighttime sky.

Lore Headcanons

Due to them currently residing in the rain forest, Nightwings have been needing to relearn how their ancient abilities work.

The first Nightwing born on the brightest night was nearly killed due to their fear of another Darkstalker. It would've went through if it weren't for the Rainwing residents.

After several years, they do end up going back to their old homeland. This ends with almost this pseudo rain forest area so that they don't go hungry in their old home.

For years, along with the loss of their special abilities, Nightwings didn't know that Nightwings hatching with no light around their egg tended to hatch with nebulae in their wings.

They still have a strong alliance with the Rainwings after moving back.

Nightwings end up building a library similar to the Library of Alexandria. History scrolls, books, and so on can be found there, alongside stories from other tribes.

Tribe Headcanons

Nightwing horns tend to curve downwards, looking similarly to a crescent moon.

It is considered a recessive gene for the horn to resemble a comet's/shooting star's tail, making the horn straight in appearance

Their ears are bat-like. Bigger or longer ears are normally on mind reading Nightwings. It makes their hearing abilities amazing compared to all of the tribes.

The Nightwings have black sclera due to being nocturnal creatures originally.

While talking about the eye, a Nightwing's eye can expand and contract similarly to a cat's. This is to help them take in light at night and in darkness.

The front of their snouts have a star-shaped appearance. This is due to their bat like noses and upper jaw tusks.

Tusks and noses that look like an even star all around is considered conventionally attractive to other Nightwings.

Ancient Nightwing society used to see bigger tusks more attractive as it meant they were a protector.

The placement of the silver teardrop scales on the face indicate what they have in their skill set. These scales are mirrored on both sides of the face. A scale near the tear duct area means they are gifted with foresight. When the outer corner of the eye has a silver scale, it means they are gifted with mind reading. A teardrop scale that looks like a tear falling down the cheek means they are very powerful with the other two abilities. This is due to them being a 3 moon born Nightwing.

Depending on which scale is bigger when a Nightwing hatches, it means that one of their abilities is stronger than the other, or stronger in general. If the cheek teardrop scale on a Nightwing born under 3 moons is bigger, it means that they are extremely powerful. It is up to the dragonet if they do end up tapping into that power or not.

Nightwings have a sort of counter shading with their scales. Though, sometimes it's hard to tell if it's not another Nightwing due to them having a better understanding of differences of darker shades of colors.

Sometimes a Nightwing will be born with light colored scales similarly to their wings. These are similar to freckles from the sun, but Nightwings get them in moonlight. These are considered "Moon flecks" compared to a nightwing getting regular freckles from the sun.

The top of the wing matches with the darkest scale coloring. This goes back to the counter shading.

Depending on the amount of light is in a hatchery, A Nightwing's underside of their wing can show nebulae.

The Nightwings with nebulae are considered exotic and attractive to most others of their tribe.

Their wings are pretty normal for dragons. Though, a Nightwing's wings are covered in little peach fuzz hairs to help aid them in silent flight. This is especially helpful at night.

Nightwings are the second tallest tribe and are the third largest in terms of weight.

They have the second strongest bite force of all of the tribes.

[fatuismooches]

Hello !! 🌟

So sorry to disturb you first but i had a funky brainrot about our dear Fatui and dance (if it was tell yo ucan ignore it) and i was thinking about who can dance and it was mostly all of them, i mean Tartaglia seem a pretty good dancer and seem almost untired, Signora seem to know too, maybe waltz and such, for Scaramouche or Wandere he seem so good too and ofc Arlecchino beloved !!

But my brain ran wild and i was thinking, does Dottore also know to dance ? Like we know he seem to prioritzed science and such, but for me like, he does know, don't tell me he don't know (and for worse, he seem pretty good and can use it to shut some mouth) and know i can't unsee Dottore dancing with his lover when he have time to do it 😌💜

Like just imagine, a boring evening/event, he don't want too but he have some obligation to do it, so he stay and his lover is here with him, trying to distratc him the best they can and withou warning, just him dancing with them-

So yeah, my little rambling ehehe bye !!

All the Harbingers are proficient in the art of dance, and that too includes Dottore. After centuries of life and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, one would be surprised by the amount of skills he's acquired here and there (save for cooking.) So yes, he and most of the segments do know, except for the young ones like from when he was a student. (Unless you decide to teach Alpha, of course! He will be rather grumpy and unwilling toward it, though.)

Dottore's quite good at dancing, even though he learned it by himself with no help other than studying others and the patterns. He only put the effort in because his and the Tsaritsa's reputations were important in the eyes of certain people, and obviously, it wouldn't do for him to make any mistakes while dancing with another. While his dancing is flawless, any person who dances with him would not feel any enjoyment. It is cold and emotionless, their heart in their throat even though the scholar had not done or said anything, but no one would dare state their dissatisfaction. It works to the Harbinger's advantage because it's not like he wants to dance or even be there in the first place.

For you, however, it's a whole different story. You're nowhere as good as him. You will step on his feet. You will not always go along with his pace and movement. And yet Dottore's shoulders are less stiff. His body feels lighter. His jaw isn't tight and his face is relaxed, the normal cold expression he'd have with anyone else gone. He watches you intently, his body automatically remembering the steps as he focuses on you switching from talking excitedly to squinting at the floor to make sure you don't step on him. No one dares to comment (except two of his co-workers.)

In private, he'd dance with you if you requested and eventually, you'd get rather good at it. In public, if he's unable to slip away quickly like he usually does, he'd dance with you the whole time so anyone who tries to talk with him would be unable to. Dottore always takes the lead in public, but if he's in a good mood, he'll let you lead in private because he wants to be amused.

[jarofstyles]

Sugar Sugar 8

Here we are… the first taste of sugar sugar smut 🫶 I’m sorry to have kept you waiting but it was for the world building 😭

Check out our Patreon!

Warnings: talk of body issues, internalized fat phobia, etc, smut 😁

—-

It was that bad.

Sitting in her back office on the couch, their thighs touching, Y/N looked at him a bit slack jawed as she listened to him list off what he had.

“Harry… babe.” She whispered. “You have a bed… a dresser… a arm chair… a coffee table, maybe?” She shot him a look. “How does one maybe have a coffe table?”

“Cause it’s like… I think it’s supposed to be a entryway table.” The man scratched the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. “I told you it wasn’t good! I didn’t have much.” He whined, looking down at the paper pad in her lap. It was cute, he noticed, with her shop’s logo on the top. “I need help. And who better than my pretty, creative, talented girl.” There was a bit of schmoozing going on, Y/N cutting him a look with a tiny smirk on her face as she scribbled down what he needed.

“So we need to get you night stands, a desk, a dining room table and chairs, a proper couch or love seat… a tv stand?” She looked at him but scribbled it out when he shook his head, clarifying his was mounted. At least that was done. “And bookshelves. Luckily with the look you're going for, it can be a bit mismatched. It’s easier to thrift.”

Harry and Y/N had sat on her couch with her laptop pulled up on Pinterest, beginning to make the board for his place. He was very 60s and 70s inspired, with the warm colors and round edges he seemed to like. Funky and cool but also grown. The color palette was her favorite part, considering she was on board with it too. There would be stuff they’d need to buy new, like paint and stuff like that, but it would be easy to get art and frames.

It was almost embarrassing to be this excited to decorate someone’s space- but it was Harry’s. Her lovers.

It still shocked her to think about. Her lover. He had his arm around her shoulders and his fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the ends of her hair, looking at her hand as she wrote things down. Clingy was a good word for him, physically, and Y/N had never imagined herself craving it just as much. But here she was. Eating up every single touch he gave her.

Delilah was manning the front of the store as Y/N took her break, sitting with Harry and getting a head star in it. “We can go thrifting this week when I’m off, and I know you’re letting Anika start her full time tomorrow yeah?” She placed the pen down, turning to look at him. What she hadn’t expected was his face to be so close, causing her to squeak a little as she jumped.

“Easy, darling.” He grinned at her reaction. There was no move made to go back. It was hard to keep his behavior good right now when she smelled so good and was so warm pressed against his side. Maybe it was partially how new the relationship was, but he was aching to get and keep his fingers on her. To be as close as physically possible. “I think we can do that. But you’re already stressin’ yourself out.”

The deep croon made her want to shiver. His voice was so close, and she could feel his body heat as he angled further towards her. His fingers tucked some of the stray hair from her face right behind her ear, leaning in slowly to kiss the underside of it. “You’re doing me a favor, Sugar. And m’so grateful for it, but you’ve got t’relax. Didn’t come to see you to get you all worked up. At least…” he chuckled against her skin, making the shiver she suppressed come to life. “Not like that.”

Her throat dried.

Holy fuck.

Harry was hot. He was attentive and smooth and sexy and his large hand held her thigh while his opposite fingers had moved now to trail down her neck. It wasn’t as if she was a blushing virgin with no idea how to handle a man- but god, this man was one that had her feeling frazzled.

“You’re a menace.” She huffed, squirming slightly in her seat as she felt the heat in her cheeks. “I just… I want to make it nice for you. Especially considering I think we should spend some time there ourselves. I can’t date you if you’ve got the whole lawn chair and TV set up, H. I can’t.” The tease made his mouth drop, a gentle smack given to her leg as he scoffed. Realistically though, he found it hot too. Knowing she could keep up with the banter. Enjoyed it.

“Okay? I have an arm chair. It’s upholstered and everything. Not a lawn chair. I am not a Reddit post.” He scoffed again, rolling his head back on the couch. “Jesus. What do you think I am? Hm? So rude t’me. Breaking my heart here, Sugar. Maybe I should start callin’ you salt.”

“Absolutely not.” Y/N quipped, scrolling through Pinterest with a chuckle. “I���ve got a sweet tooth and I’m dating a baker. A bakery owner, actually, so how could I be your Salt?” She nudged his knee with hers. “Blasphemy, actually. Can’t believe you’d even joke. I’m sweet as peach pie. I just don’t take your shit.”

Harry smirked. Oh, she set herself up good. The back and forth, the close proximity and in relative privacy, it was making him feel bolder and comfortable and his attraction to her feeling like it was bubbling over the pot… it was getting to him, really.

Cool fingers gently nudged her chin away from the laptop screen, Y/N jumping again slightly at how close his face was when she turned her eyes. Their noses almost brushed, a shaky breath exhaled over his lips. All the smart ass remarks dried up as he quite literally stole her breath, a slightly predatory glint in his eye. “Trust me… I know you’re sweet. Want t’find all the places you taste like peaches. Maybe strawberries..: though, I’ve got my money on my girl tasting like honey.” The drawl went straight to her chest, zapping her right between her legs.

Green glanced at her lips, back up at her eyes. She was so sweet, even with her salty moments. But never, ever bitter. Even then, he’s pretty positive she would find a way to make bitterness taste like citrus. “Lots of places M’gonna taste. You just got to let me.” He rubbed his thumb over her chin, leaning in to peck her lips with a quiet hum.

It lit her up. The nervous breath she released was covered again with another kiss, Harry taking his time with this one. His biggest addiction was her lips, feeling them press against his own. It was insane to him to think that so quickly in their relationship that he would be needy like this, that he felt like all he wanted to do was be around her. Yet here he was. Pressing slow kisses to her lips, warming her up a little bit. The warmth of her cheek bit into his fingers, caressing the smooth skin as he pulled back for a moment, letting the soft snap sound of their lips pulling apart fill the air.

Y/N swallowed the tiny bubble in her throat, making no move to pull away. It was hard because she had been thinking about his kisses since their date. He kissed her with a confident ease, a natural ability it almost made her jealous. She had found herself overthinking it a bit at first, but Harry was a natural leader, able to show her exactly how to follow him. She had the ability to lead, she had in most of her past relationships, but Harry gave her a bit of a choice. Letting a moment pass, she decided- fuck it.

Fingers curled into his shirt, shifting in her seat so she was facing him fully, she brought herself back to him. Kissing him again, there had been a weight lifted. Like Harry had been waiting for her to give him a signal, their undeniable tension cutting in as he mirrored her. He didn’t hesitate anymore, covering her lips with his. The buzzing she felt rang across her body, chills going over her arms as she leaned further into her and his hand went to her waist. There was no self conscious feeling, nothing but longing for his hands in more places.

The man could kiss. He could kiss and kiss and kiss and she would let him until her lungs gave out, a soft whimper leaving her throat as she felt him go ton pull away for a moment. His sticky lips pulled into a slight smirk against her swollen ones, nudging her nose with his own. “Shh. S’alright. Need you to breathe, sweetheart.” He teased, pecking her bottom lip and pulling back again. “Want you closer. C’mere.”

There was a slight hesitation in her as he tried to help pull her into his lap. Old Demons on her shoulders trying to pull her back as she took a breath, trying to move again only to be stopped by Harry’s lips pulling away from hers. “Shit. M’sorry.” He swallowed. He had felt her stop, her hesitancy and was acutely aware that they were in her place of business and the relationship was still new. His addiction to her had been clouding his mind but he hadn’t meant to push. “Don’t have to do that, got a bit carried away.” His fingers fluttered over her flushed cheek, feeling the heat he was quite fond of already. “It’s your pace.”

“No- no.” She squeaked. “Just- I want to. I really, really do. I love being close to you.” She reassured him. This was definitely not too fast, in fact she could go a few miles over his current speed limit- but the mental hang up was something she was trying to get over. “Just… don’t want to hurt you. I’m kind of heavy.” As muscular as he seemed, he was also not her size.

Harry felt a twinge of pain in his chest. Christ. It made him sad that she even had to think about that. That it was even a thought in her mind. That someone in the past had probably made her feel like she wasn’t able to do that to them. It was relieving to know he wasn’t the issue, but this was almost worse.

“Baby…” he coaxed. “I know that you’ve probably had these types of thoughts for a while, but it won’t hurt. Trust me.” He met her hesitant gaze. He didn’t like the nerves. Part of him wanted to get mad, wanted to feel insulted that maybe she would think he would be hurt by this or woulnd’t want it. But he remembered that she had mentioned being slow with it, to be cautious with her unlearning the things people had tried to hammer into her head. “Come sit on my lap. Been dying for it for ages. Want you on top of me… trust me.” He grinned lazily up at her, a dirty tinge to his words. “Love these hips,, your thighs. I’ve been thinking some dirty things about them.” He said bluntly. Hopefully it wasn’t too much.

“You have?” She whispered, looking down at his chest and back up to his eyes. All she had to do was look into them again to know he was telling the truth, but he nodded anyways. It had her flushing under her skin. Harry had thought dirty things about her, just as she had for him. “O-OKay. But you’ve got to promise to tell me if m’hurting you.”

His look was pointed. It wouldn’t hurt- but he sighed. “Yes. I’lll tell you. But you won’t hurt me, Sugar. Just get up here.” He tugged again, knowing she probably needed him to push her a bit to climb on. Her eyes avoided his for a moment as she finally gave in, straddling his thighs. It elevated her a bit, and she was extra cautious to not put too much weight on his body as she leaned back down to kiss him.

Harry, though? He wasn’t having any of that. His hands collared her hips, groaning into her mouth as he pulled her down to sit on his thighs. Y/N merely squeaked, being pressed into his body as he fully leaned back into the couch and pulled her with him. He had been dying to get his hands on her, but was something that the man had been hesitant about. Her comfort was key, though now he saw she needed a bit of a push. To be shown that it didn’t hurt. If anything, it turned him on to feel the heat, the weight, feeling her push forwards.

Y/N was shockingly aroused by his direction. How he took it without asking because she had been hesitant. Her kisses got a bit deeper, grabbing a soft handful of the couch behind him to keep balance as she sunk into the feeling. Harry felt so right, the fluttering in her stomach sinking lower to the hot place between her thighs. It wasn’t often that an actual man got her aroused, though harry never seemed to have that issue with her. The giddiness in her veins urged her forward, wanting to feel him squeezing something else. The languid stroking and squeezing of her hips and waist was amazing, but… she had a feeling he wanted more than just that.

Harry was curious when he felt her hand grab at his wrist, pulling it down slightly. If she wanted to have his hands somewhere else, he welcomed it, but when he realized the direction, he groaned. Her hand positioned his right on her ass, placing it directly where he had been thinking of grabbing. With the go ahead, he smirked a little against her lips and did as he pleased.

His hands were big, they knew where to touch, and it made her moan a little against his mouth. Cupping the bottom of her ass, he pushed her closer and squeezed. Fulfilling the dreams he’s been having every time he looks at her with her pretty dresses that clung to it, the jeans that accentuate it, he was in heaven. Feeling her warm, soft body leaning into his own, given the blessing to touch as he needed. “Fuck’s sake.” He whispered, awe in his tone as he pulled back for a moment. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Her flush felt hotter as she nervously giggled, looking down from his eyes to his lips. It was almost juvenile, their make out session on the couch, but she could feel her heartbeat in between her thighs and she wanted to feel more of it. “Shhh. I know.” Pulling from the confidence she had worked so hard to bring up, she pressed her ass back into his hand and gave him a smile that went straight to his damn dick. Nibbling lightly on her lip, she ran her fingers through the locks ahain and watched as he licked his own lips at the vision in front of him.

“Thank fuck. You should know.” His other hand came down and took hold of the other side of her ass, shaking his head in awe yet again. He hadn’t been able to touch her ass before and honestly, it was one that filled his palms and then some, which made him feel giddy. “If only you knew the things I’ve been thinking. You’d run far, far away.” The wolffish grin on his face made her brow raise. The half hard length she could feel on her thigh said otherwise.

“Try me.” It was a dangerous thing to ask perhaps, but Y/N was a glutton for punishment. She wanted to know exactly what it was that made his eyes darken like that, feeling the pride in her chest knowing she was the cause.

“Hmm.” He pretended to think about it. Of course, he knew he was taking a risk and it could be too much for her, but he wanted to see. Maybe she would like it. “Well…” he ran his palms over her ass, feeling the warmth through the fabric. “I’m thinking about how pretty my marks are going to be on this.” Starting a little tame for all intents and purposes, he watched her face and saw her tilt her chin a bit in interest. Not too much. “Want to feel it get hot from taking a few spanks, maybe even a bite. There’s plenty to play with.” A squeeze given made her exhale sharply, but she pressed back into it to show just how much she liked it. Still, no scaring her off.

“I’ve been looking at it since we met. I’d apologize but I think you like that I have been.” He murmured, leaning his head back on the couch. “Been thinking about how i moves when you walk, how perfectly shaped it is. There’s a lot for me to do with it. How I really want to see you in something short, see you bend over in it and give me a peek.” The experimental words had her attempting to clench her thighs, but he could feel it. Harry was well aware that she was liking this, liking the slight roughness in his grab. “And when you bend over t’tease me, how I’ll just…” he kept his eyes on hers as he pulled his hand back, giving the fullest part of her ass a swat. Her eyes widened for a second before hooding, a visible swallow as she shakily gripped his hair a bit harder.

The spank had gone straight to her cunt. Making her even more wet than she already had been, it was a miracle he couldn’t feel it. At least she hoped he couldnt. There wasn’t a man before who handled her this way, not in the fearless way she had wanted. “Shit.” He breathed, breathing getting heavier as the tighter grip in his hair had extrabated the arousal. She liked it. And he liked her. “Y’like that?” His hoarse voice was quiet, but Y/N heard him loud and clear, licking her lip before nodding quickly. “The spank, the image? Which one, sweet girl?” He wasn’t satisfied with just a nod.

“Both.” Her voice was weak, feeling hotter in the cheeks as he examined her every expression. Somehow it wasn’t too scary now, being under his scrutiny. He wanted to know what she liked, where to go from there. “Both, a lot.”

“Good.” His face became a bit more relax, a bit more cocky, and she found it to be extremely hot. “S’good. Cause I’d love to do more of that. It’s hot. You’re so fuckin’ hot, Sugar. Even more than you know.” Rubbing circles around where he had spanked, he continued. “You’re good for me. Haven’t scared y’off, cause that’s the tip of the iceberg. There’s lots more I’ve been thinking of, but you’re already makin’ me hard and aching. Just sitting here and kissing on you like a damn teenager, gonna make a mess of my pants. You’re amazing.”

The confirmation it wasn’t just her made her feel even better. He was hard against her thigh, she was getting sticky in her panties and honestly she was wondering how worth the risk it would be to just beg for him to fuck her. She wanted to melt and beg for him to turn them over and slip into her. That was too soon, but it didn’t have to be too soon to do anything, right?

In relative terms, maybe. They’d hung out quite often but gone on two dates. They were officially boyfriend and girlfriend but when was the definitive time when it started being okay? Y/N always thought it was silly, these unspoken rules of society. How time dictated what was appropriate even if both parties wanted it… maybe it was okay, if he wanted it, to touch.

“H…” she whispered, smoothing her hands over his shirt and placing them around his face, cupping the sharp jaw in her palms while the fingers curled around her cheeks. “I don’t think you could scare me off when I’ve been having dirty thoughts about you since we met.” Shuffling slightly in his lap, she sat herself fully on top of him. It took a bit of mental prep but his eyes gave her all the answers she needed. He was genuinely attracted to her, really going wild just by having her in the palm of his hands. The confidence boost was major.

“What if I want you to make a mess of them?” The words hung in the air for a moment as she watched him absorb them. “What if…” she released one hand from his face to hold the couch behind him. “I want you to feel good? Because I’ve been making a mess of myself since we’ve been kissing. Probably before that.” Her lips brushed his with every word she whispered. “You look so good today. It’s almost offensive. To come into my shop and be so.. beautiful.” She shook her head as she rubbed their noses together just a little in affection. “Made me want to get on my knees right then.”

The whispery tone of her words had him shuddering. Harry had been trying to be good with how far he took things. He really had only meant to kiss her, to make out like they had done since they’d first kissed, but she had the effect on him that made him feel like he was going out of his mind. “You did?” He hoarsely replied, sliding his hand up her back. “You’re just as bad as me, hm? What a perfect match we are.” The tease wasn’t much of a tease, though. It was the truth.

“Suppose I am.” She mumbled, lifting herself off of him a bit as she gave him a look. His face fell to confusion as he mourned the warmth of her body from his own, but froze as he watched as she sunk to her knees right between his parted thighs.

Oh.

Oh.

“Baby- y’don’t have to if you don’t want to, I’m fine.” The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel obligated, but she cut him off with fingers tugging at his belt. There was this look on her face, this mix of arousal, nerves and cockiness. Need. He wanted her to be sure, but Y/N simply shook her head as the belt was slid through the loops, clanging to the floor. Warm palms met his thighs as she teased, throwing her hair over her shoulders as she gave him a soft pout. Barely there, but he could see it.

“I want to. I’ve wanted to since you’ve stepped in here, and you said such dirty things about what you wanted to do.. I figured I may as well show you what I want to do with mine.” Their locked gazes fed reassurance to him, and she felt comfortable. He did too. There was no pressure. He had made her feel confident today, made her feel even more at ease with him, and she wanted to express her gratitude.

“I could feel you.” She rested her cheek upon his thigh, trailing a finger over the bulge in his jeans. “Against my thigh. I could feel it pulsing a bit. You really liked having your hands on me. Made me feel… so sexy. Adored. Haven’t felt that so strongly, let alone so soon.” You could hear a pin drop as he stayed quiet, his heavier breathing the only interruption to her words. He was full of anticipation, seeing her lay her head so close to his covered cock driving him mad. She was a tease, but in the best damn way.

“I love your body.” He replied. “It’s… you’re incredible. Of course m’hard. Been hard for ages. Since I’ve met you, never gotten off as much as now.” His knuckle brushed her cheek as she continued laying on his thigh, adding another finger in her stroking of him over the material of his pants. “You’re making me crazy, baby. Just looking at you like that. Can’t wait to get my hands back on you.”

“Mm… not today.” She mumbled. Before he could retort, she popped the button of his pants. “You’re going to wait to touch me, and just know what when I’m all alone, I’m thinking about this.” Fingers slowly undid the zipper. “Right now, it’s about you. I want to get you off. Want to feel you in my mouth, give you a taste of what I can be like for you. And then maybe… when you’ve got proper furniture in your place… I’ll let you touch me on it.”

The wicked smile grew as her cheek left his thigh, tapping it to lift up as she began to tug down the pants. “How can someone be so utterly sweet, but so cruel?” He croaked. “I’m not selfish. I want to return the favor. But I can wait… if that’s what you want.”

“It is. You’re good for me, Harry.” She cooed back, pleased with how he gave her the reply she had been hoping for. The pants down left him with a pair of briefs, a slight stain from his own arousal making her smug as she tugged at the waistband. Her hand slipped inside, preening at the gasp turned groan that left his mouth as she fished him from the fabric and exposed him to her eyes for the first time.

He was beautiful. As beautiful as cocks could be, anyways. Neatly trimmed hair met a smooth shaft, large vein going up the side that made her mouth water. A ruddy pink tip, wet from the slit. Weighted in her hands, she could feel him twitch as she dragged her hand up him and closed her fingers around the tip with a hum, fully freeing him from the confines.

“Such a pretty boy.” She praised, taking him back in her fist before looking up at him. “May I?” The softness of her voice seemed to do something for him. He looked pliant and soft, but his eyes were heated. His hand went to her hair, gently pulling it from her face.

“You can do whatever you want to me, darling. I know you’ll be sweet. I’m not going to last very long at all, though.” It had his cheeks flushing to admit it but she had to be warned. Simply seeing her hold him in her hand was making his head a bit light. It had been quite a while. Before he had even left his old town, it had been a while because casual sex wasn’t his thing. Even still, he never felt the attraction quite like this beforehand.

“That’s okay.” She soothed, leaning her head down and pressing a kiss to the wet tip. “You’re quite big. Don’t want my jaw to be too sore tomorrow anyways, hm? Though I don’t know if that’s an option.” Her words caused hot breath to wash over the length, his body shivering again. Lips pursed as she spit thickly over him, using it as lubrication to stroke. Slow, tight, Harry’s mouth opened in a soft moan as she did so.

“Damn it.”

“Damn what?” She laughed under her breath, moving her hand so she could take a lick. Starting straight from the base, the hot tongue ran slowly from bottom to top, eyes locking with his as she did so. There was slight disbelief in them as she rubbed the head over the tip of her tongue while her hand returned it’s languid strokes. “Does it feel good?”

“It does. Feels fucking incredible.” He swallowed, spreading his legs further so she could get closer. “You look… perfect. Like you’re the only one meant to be there.” Any other fantasy he’s had about anyone else was suddenly null and void. No way would anyone else look as right sitting between his legs like this.

“Maybe I am.” Lips wrapped around the sensitive head of him, making him bite down on his own lip to keep from being too loud. He could feel her sucking him slowly into her mouth, tongue flicking right against the slit as she sunk down just a bit. The wet stroke of her fist was steady and firm, just the way he wanted it right now.

“You are, you are.” His breathing picked up as he cautiously wrapped the gathered hair around his fist. “Just like that, Sugar. Bein’ so sweet to me. My sweetest girl.” He praised, watching her pop off of him to spit again. It was a bit of a sloppier blowie but fuck, did he prefer it this way. Slow, wet, her eyes doing their best to keep on his. This was intimate. Hot. Of course she knew. Somehow, she had known what he needed since they met.

“Want to me your sweetest girl. Hope I’m the only one.” The tiny bit of possessive edge to her words was amplified as she took him into her mouth again, sucking a bit harder. Harry moaned in surprise, hips jerking slightly and making her take more- but she took it in stride, gagging a bit but pushing herself further. Trying to prove a point.

“Oh- f-fuck, you are. The only one, the only- shit, baby.” He gasped as he felt her gag again. This time though, she did it to herself. Stroking him slow and tight but feeling her contract around his cock with her mouth, it was bringing him close quicker than he wanted to. “I’m not going to l-last long if you do that. It feels too good. Been waiting so long for you.” Their natural chemistry had made the sexual one even better, Harry panting heavily as she paid attention to exactly how he liked it. Replicating the things that were making his breathing hitch or deepen. He couldn’t wait until he could do the same for her.

The mere sight was enough to bring him to the edge. Wet hand stroking up and down, lips stretched around as she lazily sucked before pushing deeper to make herself gag a little because she knew he liked it now, teary eyes and a few stains when she did it too hard and made herself cry a bit. It was a filthy painting come to life.

“You’re so beautiful. A fucking vision, Y/N. Been imagining it for ages but it’s even better.” His praises continued as she pulled off for a breath, a smile on those pretty swollen lips. Somehow, that made him throb. Her smile itself. It made him horny. As soon as her mouth went back down on him again, he knew. It was almost over. “M’gonna cum so soon, darling. So fucking soon, you’ve made me feel so good.”

The wet sound of her hand pumping him was dirty and hot, her other hand cupping his balls delicately as she brought him further down her throat again. He hated that it was so close to the end because it felt so good; this entire thing did, and he wanted to last longer. “Could spend hours in this pretty little mouth, down your throat. Feels like heaven, baby. Fuck, just keep doing that. I’m almost there. That’s good, good fuckin’ girl.” The depth of his voice changed, and Y/N knew. She could feel him pulsing, twitching as she continues the pace just as he had liked it. She only pulled off once more to speak to him in a slightly wrecked voice.

“Give it to me. Cum for me, I want all of it. Please.” She didn’t waist for his reply before going back, tightening her hand and sucking a bit harder, trying to coax it from him. It didn’t take much more at all before he was tensing, a groan that was a bit too loud of her name leaving him as he began his orgasm. The load spilling inside of her mouth which she swallowed promptly, stroking until he placed his hand over hers and used the grip on her hair to pull her off and back on top of him.

Hungrily, his mouth descended on hers, licking into it and getting a taste. It was then mixed together, her sweet mouth and his slightly bitter cum that she had taken from him without complaint. He was dazed and hot, pulling some more wet kisses from her before pulling back to breathe, her forehead resting on his as she tucked him back into his briefs.

“Fucks sake.” He exhaled in a puff, shaking his head with a laugh of disbelief. “Where did you come from, hm? How did you do that so easily?” His hands gripped her thighs and pulled her to lay on top of him, Y/N following with the newfound sense of comfort.

“Hm. Some say heaven, some say hell. I’d like to think I grew from the flowers.” The voice she gave was hoarse, a bit wrecked from the gagging she had inflicted in order to give him pleasure, but she would be fine tomorrow.

“Hm. I’d agree. Beautiful flower you are.” His heart was going a kilometer a minute which she could feel as she placed her head on his chest for a moment. Hers matched the pace, all for a different reason. “Wish I could I could be returning the favor but… you’ll give me what I want soon, yeah?” The words were playful but she knew he genuinely meant them. It kind of made her giddy, if she was being honest. No one had ever been this impatient to pleasure her, so part of her didn’t want to believe it but… Harry wasn’t lying. She knew that. Y/N had a good radar for that.

“I will. I’m not going to hold out too much. I don’t think I could take it, honestly.” Her poor cunt. It had its own heartbeat and her panties were wrecked, but she had perfect material to get off to later. “But thank you. For being so… you. I’ve never felt more comfortable doing stuff like this and… I dont know.”’she flushed, hiding her face back in his shirt. “Just.. know that I’m really comfortable and happy with you. And it means a lot that you aren’t truly upset I’m making us wait to do more.”

Harry sighed. It made him angry that he could feel that other people had most likely done that to her in the past. Sex and pleasure was all about consent. With no consent, no mutual understanding, there was no point. Harry wouldn’t do it. It was his most serious rule. “Sugar, I want more than sex from you, just to be clear. And consent is serious with me. You said not today, regardless of the reason, that’s good with me. Besides… I’m perfectly happy right now. A bit tired though.” The yawn ripped through him without meaning to.

“Sorry, sorry. You sucked the soul out of me. Literally.” The pair giggled, the giddiness of post sex catching up to them. Before the reality sunk into Y/N.

“Fuck. We definitely took longer than an hour. She’s going to kick my ass!” Y/N squeaked, sitting up from Harry’s lap and adjusting her clothes. “We got to go, I owe her an hour break too.” Delilah’s glare was no joke. Y/N did not want to be on the receiving end of it. She may be her best friend but even Y/N was secretly a bit intimidated by the power she held.

“Oh, oops.” Harry’s lazy smile was not understanding the magnitude of Delilah, but he zipped his pants back up as she tried to fix her hair. “Hey, relax. It’s okay. I’m going to run to the bakery and grab some more muffins and fix it.” No one could resist muffins, let alone the blueberry crunch. Right?