#the ones where he's a dork do

[just-slightly-chayotic]

yes, jeff, we do love you in every possible angle. and, actually, the pictures where you're being a dork are my favourite ones.

[xiii-e]

//ooc posting: I NEED to find more fun/silly things to do with my two they are Not meant to be all agony all the time I swear- I just have a penchant for the dramatic and they're a little in the torment nexus o(-< but on god they will Have Fun too

[house-on-sand]

sometimes being obsessed with a character that gets mistreated by canon means sobbing about them as if their pain is you own.

[ozymoron]

need to fuck the shit out of that twink

[shalvis]

Xenoblade 1 is the best game like ever fucking made and it has two of the most dogshit sequels ever fucking made

[itsnahhhh]

my prettiest specialest boy!!!! 💖💖💖

i did a little doodle of him that spiraled out of control (the two little ones at the bottom) and then realized they were wayyy too small to post anywhere :/ so i redrew it bigger lol! i have some mixed feelings about the final result, but i still really like it! i think my big issue is that i need to figure out how to render hair lol

anyway, the differences between the first three pics are just the hair color. it’s pretty subtle, but the first one is more white, the second is more blond, and the third has a rainbow-ish filter thing on it (i wanted to make his hair kinda iridescent or something? def something i’m gonna play around with more in the future!)

there’s also a lil close up of the face in the bottom row bc i really like how i did the sparkly freckles 💖

[inutaffy]

guys im heaving with sobs omg

[snakeofgarlemald]

What drew you to Menenius? Was there something about him that sparked his muse at first glance, or was it built up over time from lore? Do you have a favorite thing about your portrayal you wish you could do more with?

Mun:

So funny thing about me being drawn to Menenius, it's because of an NPC gathering with @angelic-din-mortem with their lyon that I felt left out of sorts and I decided that I wanted to pick someone. I literally said, 'Who is that elf that Lyon works for?' And sure enough, it was a slow process with picking him up since I barely knew his character at all, and I wasn't done with the storyline for the Bozja crew.

But to sum it up, me picking up Menenius almost maybe a year ago was a long slow process of building him up over time. Though I think what really pushed me to actually learn who Menenius was and all was because of @nossumusmanus and her Menenius that she had. Ironically, we both were hella afraid of stepping on each other's toes with our blogs (for me it was more like, 'Ah shit! She's hella quality and legit!') and then finally having vonny help me out more with my menenius.

Which in turn made me love Menenius more since despite everything, he's a dork and damn if he tries his hardest.

And ironically, this lead me to wanting to learn more about the IVth and how much of a dumpster fire they are to the fact that they were fighting so much a losing battle, but kept trying anyways. Then to actually having @angelic-din-mortem to make Sartauvoir, and Basch. And through the power of modding, we both have been able to do more with all of the 4th legion and beyond. And I have Menenius and recently Albeleo. Also getting Lyon and Menenius married while working with the canon AU of him surviving and how he's dealing with the aftermath from Diablo armament's laser blast.

But a favorite thing about my portrayal that I would absolutely love to do more of, see how much I can push Menenius' cruelty, machinations, intrigues and so much more.

What I regret now over the course of having Menenius..... is that I wish I had been more into Bozja when I first created him since I wasn't following the story well and all that fun stuff. And rushing through story with him, now I wanna somehow do gposing of how he actually would have handled the different situations and beyond. When I finally get Menenius out of Shadowbringers and into Endwalker to Garlemald, that's going to be major since dealing with the fact that he and Lyon are traitors, dealing with Quintus and his wrath and just now the outsiders perspective instead of being the one on the inside. He hadn't been home in years and with Basch's teachings and along with Lyon and crew, it definitely changed him a lot.

And with @nossumusmanus playing more of their Quintus with their Menenius muse sleeping, it felt like she was passing the torch to me and well I have been definitely keeping his muse alive through gposing and writing.

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[year2000electronics]

i think one of my favourite parts of gravity falls is just. soos in general. a different show would probably have a character like that- y’know, a fat guy who’s in that early-20s age where nobody wants to acknowledge that nobody knows what they’re doing but they’re not a kid anymore so they’re no longer part of the “marketable demographic” for kids, i think a lot of other shows would make him the punching bag or the butt of jokes or portray him as weird or creepy or a failiure. but no, soos is genuinely a big part of the heart of the show. he’s allowed to be a bit of a dork, and have a non-standard path in life- it’s treated as part of the quirks that make him lovable! the twins think he’s super cool, he’s smart, funny, genuine, kind- and when he gets his own episode in soos and the real girl, his issues with talking to people are just treated as so much more HUMAN than i’m used to for characters in his demographic. it’s really sweet. and i’m glad they do that. i really like soos.

[groovysins]

I think it's time .

[leeechin]

(ꗃ) dangling charms [nerd sunghoon] ! (mdni)

⋆ in which you test the limits of the cute quiet dork that sat nearby you and your friend during lunch. but what you didn't expect, was to see a whole new side of this quiet dork, in his bed.

⌗ warnings & content: college au! sunghoon and jay are such losers in this oh my god. but i love it. nerd!sunghoon x fem!reader, backshots hehehe, protected sex (cheering) bigdick!hoon, oral (m.rec), fingering, praise, dom!hoon, etc. a lot of kaomojis when reader texts hoon, deal with it lol. early 2010s kind of au as well.

(lee's note: on that nerd sunghoon agenda :p i skimmed through this, not throughly proofread so lmk if you see any errors :D hope u guys enjoy i'm nerv abt this one.) reqs r open don't be afraid !! just read my guidelines first :3

word count: 3.0k

★ masterlist | post queue

"i love you y/n, but i don't think it is genuinely possible to even get him within the same vicinity of you that is not on campus.." gaeul comments, taking a sip of her drink.

you sigh in response, not bothering to hide the fact that you're eyeing park sunghoon, the cute quiet nerd you sat a couple seats away in your econ class. also, a couple tables away where you and gaeul were sitting at in the campus' dining hall. "what if i just asked him to tutor me—? it would benefit me and get me close to him."

"do you realize how crazy you sound right now?!" gaeul chokes, voice a little too loud causing the surrounding tables by the two of you to give a look.

"then i'm insane because i'm gonna ask him to tutor me right now—!" you exclaim, grabbing a piece of gum from the pack that was on the table, unwrapping the foil and popping it into your mouth. gaeul hypes you up, giving you a small applause in which you both giggle.

approaching his table, you felt a nervous tinge in your chest, choosing to ignore that feeling, you strut with confidence, stopping until you're standing directly in front of sunghoon. he looks up with an eyebrow raised, shutting off his laptop that he was doing an assignment on. "can i help you—?" loud smacks of you chewing the gum obnoxiously filled the awkward silence between the two of you, but you smile at him. "park sunghoon right?"

he nods, face still filled with confusion as to why such a pretty girl is at the table he occupied by himself on most days. "you have the best marks in our econ class.. and i was wondering if you could help me revise this paper i failed in that class.." you sheepishly asked, hand scratching the side of your head as you await a response.

"sure i can." sunghoon's response is short and quick, tapping his ipod that was connected with his wired headphones on his lap, waiting for you to say something. "great—! you should write your contact information for me down!" you beam. pulling out of your arm bag a mini notepad and pen, handing it to sunghoon. he takes a quick look at the character charm that dangled on a beaded string on your pen, laughing to himself in his head at how cute and amusing you were. carefully examining what he wrote before handing it back to you, sunghoon gives a small smile in return as well.

you thank sunghoon and practically skip back to your table, gaeul looking in shock as you hold up the once empty page of your notepad, filled with his contact info.

sunghoon's enjoying a peaceful dinner with his roommate when he hears a ding! from his phone. "this is the first time i've ever heard your phone during dinner." jongseong comments, stuffing his mouth full of instant ramen. "it's probably a scam or—" sunghoon remembers you asking him to tutor you. he scrambles to grab his phone, flipping it open to read your message.

"surely a scammer alright." jongseong sarcastically retorts. "shut up jay!" sunghoon yells flustered, reading the strings of messages you left to him.

(xxx) (xxx) (xxxx):

heyyyy :p it's y/n :3

turned out the deadline professor jung gave me to revise this paper in a few days (¬_¬)

soooo i was wondering if we could meet up in a couple hours ^_^ or we could do tmr cuz it’s a weekend and ur probably free ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

—

you weren't wrong.. but ouch that kinda gave sunghoon a realization that he really doesn't do anything besides studying 24/7 and being a dork with jongseong.

"no way.. you're texting a girl—!" jongseong gapes, peeking over sunghoon shoulder's to read his inbox.

"god we really are such womanless losers." sunghoon shakes his head, clicking his keyboard to respond to you.

—

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) your pov ⋆ ࣪.

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Hello Y/n

Yes. I could meet with you in a couple of hours

Your place or mine?

[you]

my roommates have company over (-.-;)y-~~~

is ur place okay ?? :D

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Yeah, that's fine with me

My roommate is home too, but don't worry, Jongseong is very quiet

My address is: ________ 8:00 just to confirm with you.

[you]

yayyyyy ok (^｡^) c u in a couple !

thx hoonie once again !! i rlly owe u 4 this (*´∀｀*)

—

you're kicking your feet up and down after confirming your plans with sunghoon, flipping your phone shut. you call for gaeul outside of the hall to tell her the news and to help you pick a outfit.. hopefully not overdoing it.

touching up your lipgloss and twirling yourself in front of your mirror to finalize your look, you're more than ready.

"don't get him too flustered y/n.. he's probably never felt the touch of a woman." gaeul warns, handing you your keys. oh how gaeul was so wrong about sunghoon..

you knock on sunghoon's door, swinging open to meet eyes with his roommate, jongseong. he stares at you in disbelief not thinking that the plans in sunghoon's inbox would actually happen. "hi! i'm y/n, is sunghoon here—?"

"no fucking way." jongseong comments, completely ignoring your question. his eyes are opened wide like saucers and all you could do it at the door step is fiddle with the bottom hem of your short pink skirt and wait.

"is she already here jay— oh. hello y/n." sunghoon sees you up close, once again. he kind of already knew you were on the way when he heard the dangling charms on your arm bag down the hall as you took your steps closer to his front door. and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you. "hi hoonie—!" you smile over at the door frame, looking over jongseong's shoulder. god that new nickname made him want to drop at his knees.

"s—sorry! i should've let you in since i've opened the door—!" jongseong stutters. you throw your manicured hand out, brushing it off. "oh it's okay jay. do you guys have any drinks—? not alcoholic or anything." you self invite yourself to open their fridge that was in the kitchen right by their entry. "um y/n." sunghoon mumbles, "hmm—?"

"please take off your shoes.." right. feeling slightly embarrassed, you say a quick apology and kick off your shoes, leaving them on the shoe mat. "don't worry about it." sunghoon reassured. walking back into the kitchen, you examine their fridge, wow. they really had a lot of choices, and a lot of food from packaged from the local convenience store. but enough of that, you settle with a strawberry milk cart and shut the fridge door.

"sooooo where are we gonna study—?" you turn to sunghoon, sipping your drink and awaiting a response. "in my room.. jay is playing a very important match of star craft in the the living room." sheepishly rubbing his head and gesturing to jay sitting on the couch, that had his eyes glued to the tv monitor as he started the game.

"okay-!" you say, following sunghoon into his room. you notice the lack of decorations, only a couple of figurines on his shelves, mainly filled with textbooks. "you sure do have a lot of dangling charms." sunghoon comments, scanning your arm bag and your phone charm.

"is it a problem—?" your eyebrows raises, eyes following sunghoon direction to your bag. "no no no! not at all, it was just an observation—!" quick to deny with no doubt.

you grin, only seeing how long it would until sunghoon gives in to your charm.

"so for this problem you can—" you interrupt sunghoon, "can we take a break?" he blinks in response, "sorry hoon i interrupted you—" "don't worry y/n. and yeah, we can take a break." your lips stretch into a little grin, getting up from where you and sunghoon were both sitting on the end of his bed, littered with papers and textbooks.

you go to his desk where you left your bag, bending over to grab a a container of green grapes. you purposely take a long time searching your bag and giving sunghoon the view of a lifetime; your mini skirt showing your little lace panties that hugged your chubby folds. sunghoon bits his lips to suppress a groan, feeling his erection growing.

sunghoon grabs a pillow to place over his lap, in hopes of his bulge would go down. you smirk to yourself, knowing that sunghoon has had more than enough time to see what was under your miniskirt. "want a grape hoonie—?" you offer, plopping yourself beside sunghoon on the end of his bed again. sunghoon nods his head.

holding out your container for him, sunghoon grabs a small handful of grapes, the both of you guys eating in silence. and you don't know what possessed you, but after the container was emptied, you lifted the pillow that was on his lap. and there behold; his boner.

he scrambles to grab the pillow again, but you grab at his wrist with your smaller hand. god did you just the veins and how thick his digits were. "y/n i'm sorry i—" sunghoon panics to find a choice of words, lucky for him, you interrupt. "you're rock hard hoonie.. because of me?"

"mmph. fuck. yeah." sunghoon groans, seeing you climb over his lap and straddle him. "let me take care of your little problem down there for you hoonie.." you offer.

"oh my god hoonie—! right there!" you moan, body perched against his bigger frame as he's stuffed two fingers deep in your sopping cunt, your panties being hooked to the side. "clenching around my fingers so tight, fuck. i knew this was planned from the start." he grunts in response, scissoring and twisting his digits.

it was so messy. you were a crying, sobbing, mess from the pleasure of sunghoon's digits hitting you so deep, reaching places you could never with your measly little hands. and never did you expect this from sunghoon..

you expected sunghoon to be a nervous, stuttering mess, but instead he was calm and collected, the one that was in control and power of letting you cum.

sunghoon's free hand was under your low-cut baby tee, grasping at your juicy tits that spilled out of your bra, taking his hand out from underneath your shirt and tugging it off and over your head, effortlessly unhooking your bra alongside it. fat tears rolling down your cheeks, smudging your eye makeup as you feel sunghoon speed the pace of his fingers, making you see stars and have you completely ruined at his mercy. breath hitching when you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap.

"just hold it out a bit longer for me, okay—?" he coos at you, tucking the strands of hair that draped over your eyes behind your ears. "hoonie please! s' so good." you babble, hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. you stretched it out so much that his collarbone showed.

a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead when sunghoon grants you permission to let go, spongy walls spasming around his digits as you crash forward and land your face against his chest. "that's it. did so well for me." sunghoon hums in satisfaction, licking your sweet release off his fingers and rubbing the side of your hips affectionately, pulling your panties back in place. you frown at sunghoon, hoping he wasn't done.

"i still haven't taken care of your problem down there.."

shuffling off his lap on the bed, you scramble and drop down to your knees; heels of your feet hitting against the plush skin of your ass. eyes looking up to sunghoon, awaiting. "shiiit, you're so pretty." he groans, seating himself up and off the edge of his bed.

looking down at you with your begging eyes that were inviting him to ruin you. and boy were you going to have such a story for gaeul when you get back home. "hoonie.. fuck my mouth?" you ask, hand reaching down to rub at your neglected clit. and who was he to refuse you, especially when you said please. pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, sunghoon is much much bigger than what you initially expected.

"oh…" your jaw almost dropping, but you contain yourself to just gulping nervously. "not big enough for you—?" he teases, hand coming down to grasp his length and pump himself as he waits for you put your mouth on him. "no.. you're too fucking big hoon. you're gonna destroy me." you rasp out, watching him take his hand off himself and replacing it with your own, making sunghoon hiss at the contact. he chuckles at your response, "we'll make it fit, don't worry— fuck—!" he moans, breath hitching when you try to take as much of his inches into your mouth, choking at about halfway. you look up, pleading for him to help you out. and so he did. hand grabbing at a chunk of your hair to create a makeshift ponytail and push his hips forward with a few experimental thrusts.

you didn't show him any signs of stopping, so sunghoon continued. he lets out a long groan feeling his tip his the back of your throat, along with the sensations of your harsh sucks. you moan around his thickness at the slight of his thick framed glasses fogging up with his heavy pants. your hands that were placed on on his thighs tapping twice to let you breathe in which he immediately pulled off of you. sunghoon holds his hand out for you grab and pull you up, wiping the saliva that was dribbling down the sides of your lips. "okay—?"

"s' okay." you giggled reassuringly, sunghoon smiles and places a kiss on your lips, and you could taste yourself from your previous orgasm from earlier against him. "think you can handle more..?" sunghoon asks with an eyebrow raised. "yeah. i want you to fuck me." you shrug, pushing him backwards so that he sat on his bed, initiating that you were gonna ride him, but no no no.

sunghoon manhandles you until your flat on your stomach. flipping your already hiked skirt up, not making much of a difference, kneading at the soft flesh of your pantie clad ass as you arch your back, wiggling yourself back at him for more. "so wet for me jesus." he grunts, pulling your now ruined paired down and over your ankles, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pulls his own shirt over his head and you oogle at his toned body, sunghoon laughs at your expression.

"only for you hoon. please. wanna feel your big dick inside me pleasepleaseplease." you beg, pushing your ass back to him in hopes he wouldn't make you wait any longer. sunghoon didn't, you look over your shoulder to see him reach over his nightstand to grab a condom, taking it out of the wrapper and placing it over him, giving a few experimental tugs before aligning the tip with your entrance. breath ragging as you feel him push in slowly, sunghoon groans alongside with your heavy breaths, the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

if this was what heaven was like, sunghoon wouldn’t ever want to leave that place.

pulling out until only his tip was left in you and plunging forward again, sunghoon finds a pace that has you screaming his name like your life depended on it. "ngh—! hoonie harder—!" you shriek, making sunghoon remember that jongseong was still in the apartment and could probably hear what the two of you have been doing. pushing your head into his pillows, he grunts, speeding up the pace of his thrusts that made pleasure seep throughout your whole body.

"god y/n. your pussy feels so fucking good." sunghoon whispers, the room filling with nothing but the slapping sounds of his hips clashing against your ass. you moan into the pillow sheets, gripping his length like a vice and sunghoon wonders if he could ever feel you around him one day without a condom in the way. his hands grip your hips so hard that you know would leave a mark.

"gonna cum hoon. i need to cum hoonie please." you whimper as you lift your head up from his pillows, sunghoon groans again, his deep strokes hitting every right spot in your body. "let go for me y/n." he says, your body gives out, your whole upper half crashing against the soft material of his mattress as you coat his condom covered dick in your creamy white substance. sunghoon stills his movements, finishing inside the condom before pulling out. taking it off of him and twisting it before tossing it in the mini trash can by his bed.

putting his boxers back on and laying himself beside you. pulling you into an embrace as he put his tshirt over your body. the room is no longer filled with a sexual atmosphere, a piercing silence filling the air.

"we didn't fully revise your paper.." sunghoon speaks up, your head resting against his panting chest. you let out a loud laugh, playfully swatting at his shoulder, "god hoon! you just fucked the living life out of me and your already all books and brains again!" "sorry sorry." he chuckles.

"mm it's okay we can revise it tomorrow." you murmur. "after you let me take you out on a date—?" you nod and place a kiss on his lips in agreement.

"you know sunghoon.. i really didn't expect you'd have it in you.." you whisper, eyes half lidded. "what? you thought i was a whimpering virgin who's never felt the touch of a woman—?"

"that's exactly what i thought."

[miraclewoozi]

okay no but actually I HAVE SO MANY THINGS. TO SCREAM. ABOUT. i knewwww from the teaser that this was going to be absolutely killer but was i ready for just how good it already is???? no. no i was not.

Bloodhound Pt. I | chs x reader

Rating: T | WC: ~4.5k | Pairing: chs x reader | Genre: romance, supernatural

Life as a vampire isn't the easiest for Vernon, friend-wise or feeding-wise. He's ready to find a solution, and he thinks it just might be you.

Warnings: blood mentions (i mean it's a vampire fic like ...), non explicit sexual advances from strangers online, involuntary thoughts of violence/murder, the briefest angst (it's me lbr), food mention, mention of being unable to eat

Reader Notes: human, has 2 brothers (i don't name or describe them so they can be other members if u want), currently ungendered (will have breasts and vagina in future smut)

It took a while for Vernon to figure out what happened to him. He still doesn’t know all the details, just that he woke up in an alley with blood all over his clothes and a burning in his throat that wouldn’t cease, and even now, he doesn’t know who did this. Who made him like this. 

This being a vampire, of course. 

He knew they existed, but in his short twenty five years walking the earth as a human, he doesn’t think he ever met one. He supposes now he has, considering the fact that he didn’t just wake up like this out of nowhere. He wonders if they meant to change him, or if he bit back and managed to get some of their blood in his system before they left him for dead. 

Either way, he’s a vampire now, and it fucking sucks. Literally and metaphorically. 

There are many cons, and only a few pros, he’s discovered in the six months since he was turned. He can’t go out in the sun anymore, and he’s so strong, he’s broken three phones. Worse than that, he likes the taste of blood now, likes feeling the coppery liquid fill his mouth before he swallows it down, likes the way it soothes his throat and sates his hunger. His brain still screams at him that it’s not normal or right or cool of him to be drinking fucking blood, and the cognitive dissonance gives him a headache every time he feeds. 

That’s another con, the feeding. He doesn’t want to just snatch innocent people and drain them dry like his maker did, but he can’t afford blood bags like the rich vampires, and he also hates the synthetic options available on the market. They all have an awful taste, like too sour grapes, and the weirdest consistency, just a bit too thin to alleviate the burning he still feels. 

That leaves him to find willing donors, which is surprisingly difficult when you don’t want to fuck them too. He doesn’t have anything against fetishists, but he also doesn’t have a lot of experience, and gaining it with people who only like him because he’s a vampire isn’t what he wants.

He’s tried the apps, tried the matching services, but they all lead to people who just want him for his venom, and he’s grown tired of it. So, he does the next logical thing. 

He puts an ad out on Craigslist. 

Vernon wakes from his daily rest to find his inbox completely full, his phone buzzing on a near constant vibration with every email received. He props himself up on an elbow in bed (no, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin), and scrolls through, cringing at all of the sexual subject lines and wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have included pictures. 

He felt like it was the normal thing to do, share part of himself in hopes someone will share back, but it seems all he’s done is made them feel bolder, made them feel more comfortable being open about what they want from him, even though he clearly put NOT DTF in the listing. But maybe that’s a good thing? 

He can easily weed out the people who don’t actually want to help him out, and he doesn’t even have to open every single message to find out who they are. His thumb blurs as he deletes email after email, the amount in his inbox dwindling the longer he swipes, until finally, he’s left with one unread. 

The subject line is innocuous enough, [interested in becoming friends with “benefits”], and he opens it to find a picture of you, with your arms extended on either side and seemingly wrapped around something, though nothing appears in the picture. You begin by saying that your two vampire brothers took the photo with you, which explains the empty spaces, and continue to tell him that they were changed against their will, attacked on their way home from seeing Spiderman in the movies a few years ago. 

That tugs the corners of his lips down, makes him feel sorry that there are other vamps out there like him, other vamps who didn’t choose this life. He knew he wasn’t the only one, but seeing, or he supposes not seeing proof drives the idea home. 

Apparently, they struggled with finding a source of sustenance too, never wanting to turn to you for your blood or your help, and when you saw his post, it made you think maybe you could help someone, in some way. 

He’s curious what solution your brothers found, and curious if you’re really offering to be fwbb (friends with blood benefits), but reminds himself to be cautious - this could all be a lie to lure him in, to get his defenses down so you can go after what you really want. He maintains that thought as he types out a reply to you, trying to play it cool and not get his hopes up. 

Vernon | hey! im sorry to hear what happened to your brothers, my turning was under similar circumstances. ive been looking for someone for a while, someone who i could feed from without hurting, but maybe also a friend too? Idk i lost most of mine when i was changed, even though i didn’t ask for it, and it would be nice to have someone who understands like it seems you could 

Okay, so that didn’t come out cautious at all. He practically laid his soul bare and sent it off to you with a smile (literally he ended the email with his name and a smiling emoji). But it’s already in the void, in the cloud, out of his hands, and now all he can do is wait. 

Vernon doesn’t have to wait for long, he finds. You reply within minutes, the buzz making him jump and glance away from the space he was staring into. He does that a lot now, just finds some point in the room and sets his eyes on it, thoughts running through his mind in circles and zig zags and parallel lines. 

His phone is still lit up with the email icon, and when he brings it up to his face, it unlocks to reveal a new message from you. 

You | Oh no, I hate to hear it happened to you too! Is it still fresh? I know you said you were only turned a few months ago. My brothers wouldn’t even see me for a year after, too concerned that they’d snap and hurt me. I never had that fear, but I never blamed them for it either. 

Funny, that’s the fear that drove his friends away in the first place. It’s nice to hear you don’t have it, that you accepted your brothers’ new forms immediately and also accepted their worries, didn’t get upset or hold it against them when they felt they couldn’t be near you for your own safety. 

You | I think we could definitely make this work! I have blood and friendship to spare, and you’re in need of both. My only restriction is that I can’t offer too much of the first on weekdays, I teach third grade and I need all my energy to wrangle those kids :-)

So you’re a teacher too? Are you just entirely altruistic or…?

If you are, he thinks this might really be good, maybe even great. His heart would be racing if it could still move, and he can’t stop himself from scrolling back up to find your picture. He didn’t pay much mind to it before, didn’t study your face like he’s doing now, and he really should have before responding to you. 

Because you’re beautiful, and he’s in danger. 

In danger of what, he doesn’t know, but he can feel it stirring in his belly, burning like hunger and brewing like need, and before he knows it, his fangs are poking at his bottom lip and his dick is throbbing. 

But he won’t give in, won’t ruin this with his base desires, won’t become something to fear. 

He needs a blood source and a friend, and if he wants you to be both, he can’t be lusting after you like the monster he worries he really is. 

Vernon exchanges emails with you for days after that, going over logistics and preferences and possibilities. You decide together that you’ll meet next month, after some time spent getting to know and trust each other, and he decides not to feed from you that first meeting, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe with him before he sinks his teeth into you. 

It makes him feel giddy almost, the anticipation of having a friend, of having someone to drink from who doesn’t carry ulterior motives, of having you. Emails become texts which become calls, and soon enough, he’s got the tone and cadence of your voice memorized. He learns how you take your coffee in the morning, knows that you’d both die and kill for your kids, hears the love in your voice when you’re talking about your brothers. 

You’re a real, genuine person, and Vernon can’t wait to meet you. 

The days and nights fly by now that he has someone to talk to, and it only hits him the week before your meetup that not only will he be meeting you, you’ll be meeting him. 

You’ll be seeing and hearing and perceiving him, and suddenly, he’s nervous out of his mind. He hasn’t met anyone that stuck around since he was changed, and he’s all too aware that you could slip out of his life just as easily as you slipped in. 

In the days before, he tries to remind himself that you’ve already heard his voice, already seen his face, that you know he’s a vampire and haven’t shown any sign of running. 

It doesn’t occur to him to worry about his own reaction to you, which is mistake number one. 

Mistake number two is going to your meeting hungry. 

You settle into the booth, latte in hand and heart beating out of your chest, and keep your eyes locked on the door. Vernon should be arriving soon, and with so many conflicting emotions razing your thoughts, you don’t know how you feel exactly. 

You’re nervous, of course, as you should be when it comes to meeting online people in real life. You’re scared a little, because what if he’s not as harmless as he seems? He is still a vampire, and he could still easily kill you. But you’re also a bit… excited? He’s cute and sweet and in dire need of a confidante, and you think you could be that for him. 

Over the weeks spent getting to know Vernon, you’ve grown fond of him, fond of his dry jokes and his media recommendations and his fascinating opinions, and you’re interested to see if your easy back and forth will remain in person.

This should be a good environment to test it out, you think. 

You chose this cafe because it’s open twenty four hours, but also because it’s welcoming to vamps, serving a few synthetic options and even carrying donated blood for those with a bigger budget. 

What will Vernon get, you wonder? Will he go for synthetic even though he’s admitted to you that he hates it, or will he spring for a blood bag, drink it in front of you with a straw like it’s expensive cherry cola?

Will he buy nothing, deny his hunger and his state of being?

It’s a shame you don’t get to find out. 

Vernon takes in a no longer necessary deep breath to steady his nerves and places his hand on the door of the cafe, primed to pull it open. There’s a growl in his stomach, an emptiness that reminds him he didn’t have a chance to feed before, and he pushes it down, drowns it out, ignoring it for all he’s worth. 

There’ll be time later, after he finally meets you. 

His hand is steady as he pulls the door open but his ice cold heart is in his throat, lodged there like something he can’t swallow down. 

“Come on in!” The barista calls out, allowing him to cross the threshold and enter the cafe. He nods in thanks and starts to scan the tables for someone familiar, someone whose picture he definitely doesn’t look at before he lays himself to rest every morning. His eyes catch on a hand raised, one that leads down a soft arm to a gently sloped shoulder and up a tantalizing neck to a sweet, kind, open face. Your sweet, kind, open face. 

He grins, beams really, and races over, stirring napkins and shifting chairs with his sudden movement. He’s about to slide into the booth across from you when it hits him. 

Your scent. 

It’s like a brick wall smashing into him, every sane, rational thought in his head scattering like rubble in the wake of your natural perfume, unmarred by synthetic smells and caustic chemicals like so many others out there. 

Instantly, the burning in his throat starts, except this time, it’s an inferno, a supernova of pain and need and desire and hunger screaming at him to take take take. His fangs shoot out, bursting through his bottom lip and making him cover his mouth, frantically backing away from you with his eyes wide and his other hand held out to keep you in the booth when it looks like you might follow him. 

He bumps into tables and chairs as he flees, his blazing red eyes still locked with yours, part feral, part apologetic. The door slams behind him but he doesn’t hear it as he runs, his ears full of a roaring voice telling him that he’s going the wrong way, that he needs to go back to you and steal you and keep you and sip drink devour until you’re his, all his, until you’re glassy eyed and your heart is slow and your breaths are even slower. 

Which is fucking terrifying, the thought of ever hurting you like that, of wanting to hurt you like that, making him shake with rage at himself and despair over likely blowing it with you. 

He’s miles out of the city before he stops running. 

When he finally does, he turns in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings and attempting to find his humanity again even with his mind still screaming at him to find you and fucking kidnap you. His clothes are torn and his bones are aching and his stomach is empty, so very, very empty, but nothing is worse than the shame. 

He wasn’t strong enough for you. He wasn’t in control, wasn’t even capable of sitting across from you without wanting to drag you over the table and either kiss you breathless or suck you dry. 

Numbly, he sinks to the ground, laying himself out on the forest floor and staring up at the moon peeking through the trees. 

He feels like it’s taunting him. 

The moon used to be his friend, back when he was human. He was a perpetual night owl, always staying up late with his curtains open and music blaring and the light of the moon filtering in through the window. His roommates didn’t mind the noise because they were all making their own, and it wasn’t often any one of them would be sleeping before the sun came up. 

He lived most of his life at night and slept during the day, wasting the sunshine and warmth and normal waking hours like the ungrateful bastard he was. 

He can remember the moon that night. The night he was bitten.

It was a blood moon, foreshadowing trouble around the bend, and it’s about the only thing he does remember before the agony blinded him and his memories started to flicker through his brain, going too fast for him to make sense of much. 

Some stood out, like when his baby sister came home for the first time, screaming and crying until she set those big eyes on him and fell silent, transfixed. Or when he was thirteen and broke his arm sledding in Prospect Park, pretending after that it didn’t hurt because all his friends were watching, waiting for tears. Or when he got a full ride at Berklee for music production, every exhausting day sped up and reduced to a flash before he saw himself walking across the stage and shaking the Dean’s hand. 

He succumbed to the encroaching darkness soon after, the red moon growing nearer and nearer in his mind’s eye. He awoke hours later, just minutes before the sunrise, with his throat on fire and his body feeling like someone else’s. 

This moon is full and silver, friendlier looking than the last one he remembers, but no less foreboding. 

This moon is the one he ruined everything under. 

He’s sure any chance he had with you is gone. Any chance to be your friend or maybe even more, as he’s realizing only now that he did want more. Does want more. 

How could he not, when you matched his energy, met him quip for quip, made him a playlist and a hypothetical skincare routine? When you devoted so much of your time to helping others and still made some for him? When you’re so beautiful inside and out, that it would take his breath away if he needed to breathe?

How could he ever not want more with you?

You stare down at your undoubtedly cold latte and furrow your brows, scrunching your mouth to the side as you remember how Vernon ran from you. 

The barista has already been by to check on you, and you can still feel their eyes every so often, concern and pity rolling off of them in waves. You appreciate their empathy, but you feel a bit raw, a bit on edge, and you wish you could just burrow into the booth and go unseen. You’d leave but too many people who witnessed it remain, and you don’t have it in you to walk past them just yet. 

That leaves you to wrap your trembling hands around the mug and bring it up to your lips, attempting to act like nothing is wrong. Like it’s normal for your possible friend and perhaps crush to dash away at one whiff of you. 

You have to assume that’s what happened. He seemed so happy to see you, his mouth stretching wide in a smile and his hand coming up to mirror yours as he zoomed over in a blur. The wind he created made you laugh but it also rustled your hair, blew it away from your neck and probably wafted the scent of your rushing blood toward him. 

You don’t wear perfume or use fragranced products, your brothers’ noses are too sensitive for that, and you bite your lip, considering that perhaps you should have just this once. Your brothers are old enough to be able to control themselves but Vernon isn’t. 

He may be twenty five in human years but in the vampire world, he’s still a baby, and you didn’t approach him as such.

Fuck, this is all your fault. 

You sip down the latte slowly, the rich bittersweetness heavy on your tongue, and take a small bite of the cake the barista brought over while you were stewing in your thoughts. It settles like a stone in your belly and you push it away, unable to eat with the idea that you may never see or hear from Vernon again blaring in your mind. 

It’s only been a few weeks since you started talking to him but he feels… special. Important. Like someone who’s meant to be in your life. You’d hate to go back to not having him in it, especially now that you know what it’s like with him around. 

Everything is brighter, happier, more vibrant. You wake with a smile on your face knowing you’ll have a goodnight text from him, countdown the minutes from sunrise to sunset knowing he’ll call you as soon as he opens his eyes, go about your day wishing you were sleeping next to him instead. 

You don’t want to be a vampire, but by God you really think you could love this one. 

So you’re not going to let him go that easily. You’re not going to let him fade into the night, never to be seen again. And you’re definitely not going to let him be alone anymore, not like he has been since he was turned. 

With determination alight in your veins, you unlock your phone and find Vernon’s contact, pressing call and assuming he’ll send you to voicemail. You have a lot to say, and you’ll be glad to get it off your chest. You’re surprised when a ragged voice greets you, sounding, for all intents and purposes, dead inside. 

“Hello?” 

“Vernon?” You gasp desperately, any thought of a speech gone from your head as soon as you hear his voice. 

“Y/n?” He gasps back, suddenly full of wonder and light and life. “I didn’t check before I answered, I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Why can’t you believe it’s me? We talk every day,” you joke halfheartedly, not even trying to suppress the frown at his response. 

“I thought you’d never want to speak to me again after I went feral like that,” he confesses, shame and dejection obvious in both his words and his voice. 

“Vernon, you didn’t go feral. Feral would have been killing me. You ran instead, hell, you protected me!” 

“Yeah, from myself,” he laughs acerbically, making you roll your eyes at his self-deprecating tone.  

“Listen, you’re still new. My brothers had run-ins like this too, it’s not a sign of your character or your control. It’s just a byproduct of your nature, you can’t help it,” you insist, pleading with him to understand and stop blaming himself. 

“That almost makes it worse! The fact that there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can change. I don’t think I can see you until I figure this out,” he sighs regretfully, and somehow you can picture him shaking his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight. 

“What are you going to do until then? How are you going to feed?” You ask in concern, knowing it’s already been a few days and selfishly wanting him to change his mind. 

“I don’t know, I’ll spring for the blood bags and try some synthetic too,” you can tell he’s shrugging, and his nonchalance at being able to fucking eat has you lighting up with anger. You tamp it down, try to temper it, but your anger isn’t just at him. 

You’re upset with the world, with the greedy overlords who decide the price of life, with the asshole who took Vernon’s away from him, with the fact that he may never be able to control himself around you. Talking has been enough for the last month but that’s just with you in the crush phase. 

What happens when you finally fall in actual facts love with him?

“Vernon…,” you start, not knowing where you’re going but knowing where you want to finish (with his teeth in your neck and your body on top of his). 

“Y/n, I’m not risking you.” 

He sounds as firm as you’ve ever heard him, and you feel the anger ramp up and then wash away as you realize you’re simply not going to win. There is still a way you could help him though. It might be tedious and painful, but you’re willing to endure it for Vernon. 

“What if I go to a donation center and have them reserve it for you? You’d just have to tell them your name and show your ID and you could drink my blood instead of paying for bags. You may still need to supplement with synthetic but together they could tide you over until we can meet again.”

There’s silence on the other end for a few minutes, minutes you spend picking at your nails and going over tomorrow’s lesson plan in your head. You doubt he realizes how long he’s been thinking about it, but you’re not going to rush him when it’s likely that his hasty answer would be no. 

“I don’t know… I could still- You’d have to be so far away from me, I couldn’t even smell you,” he sounds unsure, apprehensive, and you don’t want to force him into it but you know this is the best solution.  

“You could wait a day or two before going to pick it up? It’ll be less fresh but maybe by then my scent will have faded,” you offer, nearly ready to beg him to say yes. 

A few more beats follow, your breathing steady and calm though your heart is racing, galloping in your chest as you wait for his response. You just want to know Vernon is happy and healthy and fed, you just want to take care of him. It seems like no one has done that in a long time, maybe since even before he was turned. 

“Okay, we can try,” he still sounds reluctant, but there’s an edge too, a determination that wasn’t there before. 

You bite back the squeal, vibrating in your seat as you look up centers nearby. There’s one just down the street and it’s open twenty four hours, so realistically, you could go right now. 

“I’ll donate tonight, just don’t change your mind in the next couple days, okay?” You rush to say, grinning and relaxing in the booth when you hear him let out an easy laugh. 

“I’ll do my best,” he chuckles, and though you know you should hang up and get going, you can’t help but linger. 

“Did you make it back to your apartment alright?” You ask, realizing you don’t hear any music or TV in the background like you normally do. 

“Ummm, I think I might be in Connecticut actually.”

He’s not nearly as bothered by this as you are, he even sounds almost carefree compared to how he first picked up the phone. 

As if he can anticipate your responses, he says, “I’m not coming back until you’re home safe, okay? With the door locked.”

“You don’t even know where I live,” you remind him, jest in your voice and fondness in your heart. 

“That doesn’t matter. I could find you anywhere with how good you smell,” his admission sounds apologetic almost, like he’s sorry for wanting your blood so bad he could find you by fragrance. 

Honestly, you preen a bit, flattered that you seem to affect him so. 

“Let me go to the blood bank and get you squared away first, then I’ll go straight home and lock all my locks,” you can hear the smile in your voice, hear the affection, and you wonder if Vernon hears them too. You hope he does. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.”

AN: i was super excited to kickstart baby vamp vernon so i figured i'd post on his (and dk's) birthday!! this was inspired by a series of asks, but mainly this one. it got a bit more plot heavy than i expected but i'm having a good time so far!! i have the second part written already and i'm hoping to write part three before i release part two just so i can stay ahead of it and yall don't have to wait too long!

pls pls pls reblog and lmk how you liked it! you don't know how happy it makes me to see your thoughts and feelings on my work, they're my fuel to keep sharing my writing 🥰

*warnings for this were a bit tricky so if you think i missed anything, lmk and i'll be happy to add it!

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My Masterlist

[gumii-bearr]

thinking about... ❝ tongue piercings ❞

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: sexual tension, alt!reader, alt!megumi, piercings, tattoos, reader is a tatted girlie, this is for my alt! girlies.

author's note: i think about alt!megumi constantly.

── thinking about alt!megumi who is tatted up and has piercings but he's about to go and get a tongue piercing and you are his piercer.

── he's so damn cute and hot with all those tattoos on his arms and hands and you can see a few poking out from under his shirt and your brain is going brrrr.

── thinking about the intense eye contact you would make as you use a marker to mark where you're going to pierce him and asking him to check and see if he likes the placement.

── how he would totally check you out as you pull on latex gloves and organise your sterile tools.

── you tell him there will be a pinch and this man takes it like a champion, never once flinching or snatching away– your dream client.

── you're going over aftercare and you mention no kissing or... intimate activities.

── he thinks you're so fucking cute the way you get all nervous mentioning said intimate activities (he purposefully poked, asking what you 'meant' to get you all flustered).

── telling him, no, he's not allowed to go down on anyone for a little while.

── he tells you that won't be a problem and you know he's subtly telling you he hasn't got a girlfriend.

── the sexual tension is fucking palpable.

── both of you are sneaking glances at each other as you hand over his aftercare spray and while you would usually explain how to size down in barbells after a certain amount of time, you just want him to come back so you can do it for him.

── you watch him leave and it takes everything in you not to be a huge dork and chase after him with your number.

── then you watch this smooth fucker come back inside the tattoo shop and take one of your cards off the counter; "almost forgot".

── needless to say, tongue piercings feel fucking amazing when they're flicking over your clit.

author's note: oopsy, my finger slipped :3

[krysmcscience]

At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)

I am so normal about these old dorks.

I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.

I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.

Oh, and a little bonus comic:

Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)

Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:

Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)

Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃

In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)

Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\

[dollyfetti]

🍮⠀⠀ notes: popular!bakugou x nerdy!reader, fluffy, college au ‿ ୧ 🍡⠀ word count: 839

everyone's either in love with bakugou or wants to be him. he always has people bombarding him with questions about his quirk or trying to get close to him. he doesnt mind the attention. bakugou carries a large amount of pride that comes along with his popularity. he's worshipped, always walking the halls with people following him.

but then theres you. a silent girl in most of his classes. you keep to yourself in your own little world for the most part with very few close friends. your seat is in front of bakugou in all of your shared lectures, and you never bothered him, not once. truth be told, he never really thought about you until a specific night.

slamming his friend's car door shut, bakugou grumbles, "you idiots." he wasted yet another good night for studying. he threw it away by partying with people he didn't even find interesting. gosh, it's already 10:30. he wouldn't be able to stay awake. but he can't just go to sleep! nono, exams are too close. he needs glue all of the information he can into his brain. kirishima had recommended getting a study buddy-- who the hell would want to actually study with bakugou?? the girls would be distracted by his "huge muscles" and "unique hair" while any guys would be begging to see his quirk in action.

fuck this! katsuki doesn't need anyones help.

that confident thought bubble changes as he walks up the stairs to the dormitories. he remembers that quiet dork in most of his classes.. you seem pretty normal for the most part. a bit of a nerd too, so he wouldn't be worried about you having the wrong shit written down. with an ashamed grunt, he decides to find your dorm.

you munch on freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, going over notes you'd gotten from yesterday's lecture. you tiredly lean back against your chair in a tiny tank top and shorts with your hair up in a claw clip. you're slightly bopping your head to the quiet music playing in the background when you hear heavy thuds of someone walking towards your room. you perk up when said person knocks on your door softly. you happily smile, thinking maybe one of your friends are stopping by. excited you made so many cookies, you hurry to the door and swing it open.

with his hands dug into his pockets and drained frown, the katsuki bakugou stands at your door.. odd. "oh!" you squealed, your hand covering your mouth. "sorry, just-- wasn't expecting you." you nervously rub your arm, leaning against the door frame.

he lazily raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "you expectin' someone?"

you shake your head. "nope.." you mutter with an awkward smile. bakugou eyes you up and down quickly, quietly clearing his throat at the small amount of clothing adorning your body. you bite your lip embarrassedly while averting your gaze. "you wanna come in?" you chirp, stepping to the side. he lets out a soft hum of confirmation, taking big strides into your dorm before you shut the door behind him. he walks over to your desk to observe your neatly written notes. "i need someone to study with-- you aren't stupid or anythin' right?" he cocks a brow, turning his head to look at you.

you hum lightly. "mm no, i dont think so.."

the scruffy boy plops down in your heart-shaped chair, flipping through the pages you had spent such precious time working on. you fiddle with your fingers shyly, biting the inside of your cheek as you watch bakugou. "..do you want a cookie?" you politely ask, pointing towards the plate on your desk, walking towards him. his head turned to where your finger was pointing.

his eyes flicker to the plate, hesitantly taking a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and biting into it. it was soft and chewy-- and warm. his crimson eyes brighten a little, just a little. "'s not bad. would be better with coffee." he stares at the bitten cookie, cupping his other under the treat, careful not to make a mess. your bubbly self returns, offering a sweet smile. "coffee coming up!"

that day was the first of many of you and katsuki spending time together. you were never around people too often, yet alone someone as popular and liked as bakugou. and as for him, he thought you were decently likeable. you made him feel good about himself without talking about his quirk or giant pecs. you also never asked if he had a girlfriend or if he was free next friday night. you were just you.

you had talked more than he anticipated. that night, bakugou found himself quiet while you blabbed about whatever came into your head, and he didn't mind it at all. even after that study session and hanging out numerous times, you're still that one quiet nerd in the classroom. only he gets to see the chatty side of you-- and he likes that. makes him feel special.