#this was meant to be a short comic what is happening

[genericpuff]

sorry if this has already been addressed, but why are the chapter numbers off on dillyhub?

Back when I started mirroring to Dillyhub, I decided to condense a lot of the episodes that were either extremely short to begin with or cut in half for time. Ex. Episodes 1 and 2 were condensed into Episode 1, Episodes 3-5 were condensed into Episode 2, etc. This was mostly to make the reading experience a little more consistent, especially with episodes that were split for the sake of lightening the workload for the week but thematically were meant to be presented as one single episode.

Pacing and reading rhythm are really important to me so I don't like cutting things off in weird places, if I ever do split an episode it's usually where there's already a natural enough conclusion that it can work on its own, such as the Alex episode which was originally split into two parts for Tumblr, but then condensed into one again for Dillyhub. To show you what I mean, here are the separate endings of Parts 1 and 2 that work on their own, but together in the condensed episode turns Part 1's ending into a setting transition and Part 2's ending into the "true ending" of the entire episode:

That doesn't happen too often nowadays though. If there are any production issues, unless an episode has a natural cut off point that can make it doable as a two-parter, I'll usually opt to just delay the episode until it can be presented in full the way it was intended to be.

Back when I started the comic though, I was still just messing around with things and putting out updates that were small but frequent, before I had committed myself to an actual posting schedule. That's why so much of the condensing on Dillyhub happened within the first stretch of the story, because so many episodes were only like 10-15 panels at the time (it's also why on Tumblr it takes nearly 20 frigging episodes for Kore to get home from the party/Hades' house LOL but on DH it's more like 12).

So yeah, it can sometimes cause issues like it did today with the elevator number sequence LMAO but for the most part, the episode numbers aren't really much of an issue unless you jump between both Tumblr and DH, in which case... yeah sorry about that LOL It's mostly just to clean up the episodes that were originally intended to be longer but weren't for some reason or another.

To put it simply, in the hypothetical scenario that Rekindled were a book, its episodes would be formatted more like the DH version than the Tumblr version. Hope that answers your question :'3

[kimberleyjean]

What did Adam change? (Part 1)

To follow up on my recent reblog about the baby swap, I'm going to take a closer look at Adam where we leave him at the end of S1. Because, by the end of S1, Adam had changed quite a few things... and I'm going to use both the TV show and the book to provide evidence.

To become the Young's real son, I don't think Adam really needed to change all that much. He just says the words to Satan, Satan disappears, and that should be it, right? But no, because Adam goes much further, and I think he does it because he can.

Because Adam has opinions, you see. Opinions on how the world should be and what he wants to happen. Except, unlike Agnes, who needs to write a prophecy and then wait 300 years for her descendant to enact it, Adam can just make it so.

The Other Two Babies

I originally thought about putting all the things Adam changes into a single post, but instead I'm going to make this a short series of posts, because he changes a fair bit. Let's start with where we left off with the baby swap, crack open a copy of the book and discuss the changes for Warlock and Greasy first.

Warlock

Here's some excerpts of Warlock flying home from Megiddo to America (my bolds for emphasis):

It was Sunday afternoon. High over England a 747 droned westwards. In the first-class cabin a boy called Warlock put down his comic and stared out of the window.

...

And now he was going back to the States. There had been some sort of problem with tickets or flights or airport destination-boards or something. It was weird; he was pretty sure his father had meant to go back to England. Warlock liked England. It was a nice country to be an American in.

...

And Warlock flew on to America. He deserved something (after all, you never forget the first friends you ever had, even if you were all a few hours old at the time) and the power that was controlling the fate of all mankind at that precise time was thinking: Well, he's going to America, isn't he? Don't see how you could have anythin' better than going to America. They've got thirty-nine flavors of ice cream there. Maybe even more.

So it's Adam who has sent Warlock back to America, despite Warlock wanting (even, expecting) to be on his way to England. And he's controlling the fate of all mankind.

Greasy

Likewise, he has changes for Greasy Johnson too (the discarded baby who grows up to win prizes for his tropical fish).

The plane was at that point passing right above the Lower Tadfield bedroom of Greasy Johnson, who was aimlessly leafing through a photography magazine that he'd bought merely because it had a rather good picture of a tropical fish on the cover. A few pages below Greasy's listless finger was a spread on American football, and how it was really catching on in Europe. Which was odd… because when the magazine had been printed, those pages had been about photography in desert conditions. It was about to change his life.

Adam is deciding here how to alter Warlock and Greasy's paths. Warlock wants to be back in the UK, but Adam thinks America is better, while Greasy's magazine is changed to American football, which I guess is implying he's going to become an American footballer.

Now, not everyone may be aware, but these parts weren't in the first release of the novel. It only came about later, in the American edition. Apparently the changes were in response to prompting from the American editor, but they got "carried away" making those changes (source).

Season 3 (warning: speculation)

So, do you think this could be relevant for S3? For me personally, the fact that these bits were added later makes me wonder if this was helping to set up for a potential sequel. It's certainly poetic - just like the baby swap that originally involved all three, we are now implying a potential adolescent swap of Greasy, who is interested in American football, and Warlock, who is interested to return to the U.K.

If you've read at all about the hypothetical plot of the proposed written sequel, you'll know that it involved a trip to America, ostensibly to look for a lost Jesus. So, if the next book was originally meant to be about going and finding someone (Jesus?) in America, then Greasy or Warlock could make sense. It would be a switcheroo all over again if Warlock had left for the UK and Greasy for America.

Another alternative is that all three could end up converging in America, since Warlock already lives there and both Adam and Greasy have interests in going there. But if that's the intention, why mention that Warlock wants to be back "home" in the U.K.?

So, those are my possible takes on how this passage can be interpreted. I know there are some theories that either Greasy or Warlock may be the Second Coming. I've also seen a theory now that Adam himself could be a contender (both spawn of Satan and spawn of God - it'd certainly be interesting!). I'm not placing bets on any of these outcomes just yet.

In addition to this passage in the book, we also see some interesting changes made by Adam which are featured more prominently in the show - one's that have implications for the ineffable husbands.

Part 2 coming soon!

Thanks as always to everyone at the @ineffable-detective-agency (including @noneorother, @embracing-the-ineffable, @lookingatacupoftea, @251-dmr, @somehow-a-human, @maufungi, @havemyheartaziraphale, @theastrophysicistnextdoor, @dunkthebiscuit, @komorezuki, & @ghstptats).

[bleeding-seraphic]

WHOOP NEW PART

prev // Part Three // next

Is anyone following this comic lol and should I make a part 4

[sanchoyo]

trying to do truly deranged new things I haven’t tried before with coding after not practicing for a while is so painful 😔

[steampoweredskeleton]

.

Ignore

[blushouyo]

working on that sampo comic and ive already planned three pages... im not even halfway through what I want to be in it...

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr. Gaiman,

I had a recent experience that (kind of) revolved around your character Death and I thought you might enjoy the story!

So, to begin, it is important to mention that my mom has been a long time fan of yours, notably of your Sandman series, and even more notably of the character Death. As a young goth in the late 80s/early 90s she connected heavily with the character both because of your marvelous writing but also because she happened to look a lot like that character. During that time she also happened to be close friends with the comic artist David Hahn.

Cut to the present, a few weeks back, my mom and I were visiting Albuquerque where we are both from. During a lovely green chili filled lunch with my uncle he asked what we planned to do during our visit and we mentioned a few comic book stores we'd like to check out while in town. He proceeded to tell us about a store that they used to go to as teenagers (named Comic Warehouse) and mentioned that there was a drawing of my mom, as death, drawn by David Hahn, above the entrance to this place. My mom was skeptical at first, thinking perhaps he meant it was an illustration of death that just happened to look like her. Regardless, curiosity got the best of all of us as we went to investigate.

Upon arriving at the shop we were disappointed to find that no such picture of Death could be found above the door, or anywhere for that matter. After a few minutes of peaking behind shelves and double checking dusty corners, my mom built up the courage to ask the nice man working the desk if he happened to know about this particular illustration. After stating he knew not only David Hahn but even remembered some of her other friends that used to haunt the place, he then disappeared behind a wall of boxes. After a few anxious seconds he reappeared with the illusive drawing in hand! Not only were we all shocked to find that it still existed, but as it turns out my uncle was right! It was in fact a picture of my mom, as death, and it even contains a short note addressed to her, thanking her for a lift!

It was a wonderful and surreal experience to find a 30 year old illustration of my mom, drawn as what has also become one of my favorite characters, and I thought you might appreciate knowing what a long lasting and wonderfully strange impact your work has had on a couple weirdos from Albuquerque.

That made my day completely. Thank you!

[anathemaspeaks]

Fluff prompts 4 and 28 please with Bakugo 💥❤️

"you're blushing" "am not!"

"because i'm in love with you, dumbass"

check out my prompt list and request stuff <3

bakugou katsuki always gets what he wants.

but what happens when it's you that he wants?

you had been his (self-proclaimed) best friend ever since the both of you were five years old. front teeth still not fully grown, but a wide gummy grin on your face, you told him you would be best friends forever.

you had grabbed his arm and dragged him to the playground right after that, his mouth comically hanging open at how you said that, two minutes after meeting him. i mean, you were basically asking for a death sentence.

but he didn't know whether he was more shocked about your actions, or the fact that he hadn't yelled your head off yet.

then again, you had always been special to him.

you were the only one who could get him to calm down, almost instantly - a talent for which mitsuki called you her personal blessing. one hand on his shoulder, one whisper, and he was at your mercy. he was whipped before either of you even knew it.

(except mitsuki, though. she saw it coming miles away.)

bakugou has known he's loved you since the day you showed up to his house, soaked from head to toe because of the rain. why? because he said he 'wasn't feeling too good' and doesn't think he can hang out today.

god, he thought his heart would beat right out of his chest at the sight of you - he felt like he was melting. you were too sweet for your own good. you made his stoic, harsh composure mellow down into the bakugou only you ever got to see.

of course, he did yell at you for ten minutes for being "so fuckin' stupid n' reckless," but the poorly concealed smile on his face and the worry etched onto his handsome face told you enough about how he truly felt about the situation.

that was when he knew he just couldn't ignore it anymore. he loved you. more than he thought his little explosive heart was capable of. and mentally, he didn't give a shit about how you felt.

you were his girl since day one. you just didn't know it yet.

being katsuki's best friend also meant you could see he had a clear soft spot for you - one which you couldn't help but fall in love with yourself. it came with looking at his actions rather than his words, because he said a lot of words.

it was in the way he would complain about you being an idiot for not bringing a sweater, and still give you his own jacket every time it was cold, the way he would act like it was a problem to help you with your homework, but he would stay up until two in the morning just to help you - even baking for you or cooking to help you sometimes, and tucking you in when you fell asleep on your books.

(never in a million years would he admit it, but he would stare at you until he lost track of time when you would doze off. he may or may not have kissed your forehead once, too.)

it's no surprise you end up going everywhere and doing everything together - like bakugou would ever let you out of his sight. you were basically attached at the hip. for safety reasons, obviously.

that's what he told you, at least.

but how do you end up here?

you were sparring with bakugou less than a moment ago, explosions firing off into the air which crackled with fire and the smell of burnt caramel. a routine of yours for a long time now.

sweat dripping down both of your bodies, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and determination as you both sent blow after blow, short pants escaping the both of you as your muscles strained with every movement, fighting to defeat the other.

and then you trip on nothing, comically waving your hands in the air as you fall down and bring katsuki down with you, landing oh so gracefully on top of him with a loud thud, and a surprised grunt from him.

you stay in that position for a moment to get your bearings, before propping yourself up on your hands to see if he was okay. totally not to check out his muscles in the compression shirt he chose to wear today, and the adorable little grumpy pout on his face.

but you might've ended up looking too long, because-

"oi, 's there somthin' on my face, shitty woman?" he grumbled, averting his gaze from yours, strong arms still wrapped around you.

but you couldn't help it. you'd seen him from up close before, but never in a position like this. it made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, being able to look at all his breathtaking features from so near. with you on top of him, nonetheless.

the implications had your heart racing.

"i asked you a question, dumbass" he repeated as his eyes looked at you again, his crimson gaze scrutinizing you as his nose adorably scrunched up a bit in annoyance at your unrelenting stare. oh, shit.

"sorry!" you squeaked. you didn't mean to get caught staring so blatantly. your whole body felt like it was on fire with the physical contact you had with him. and he caught you.

"you're blushing" he stated.

but it made his heart beat a little faster, knowing he had that effect on you just as you did on him. you looked cute, very cute this way. but would you ever let him know he was making you feel that way? hell no. he was cocky enough already.

"am not!" you huffed, squirming to get off him-

but oh. he had his strong arms around your waist, effectively trapping you between them. it was now or never, bakugou was a no nonsense guy, and he was determined to get you to admit your feelings now that he knew he could make you so flustered. so easily too. it was almost embarrassing if he didn't adore the look on your face right now.

he tightened his hold on you, just to see how you'd react. not because he liked the way your body felt so warm against his. not because he thought he could hold you like this forever if you would let him. and definitely not because he loved looking at you from this close.

you let out a surprised squeal at the feeling, and before you knew it, you were red all to the tips of your ears. damn him, you thought. but all you could think about was how comfortable you felt, the familiar scent of burnt caramel invading your senses as it has so many times before.

"then why'd ya jus' start blushin' even more?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you, knowing he's got you now.

"oh, 's it cause of the heat? cause i beat your ass during training? or maybe its c-"

"it's because i'm in love with you, dumbass!" you put a hand over your mouth, eyes wide. he let out a shit-eating grin, knowing he'd won. and god, he's never wanted to kiss you as much as he did right now, finally knowing you feel the same way.

"you want to- what? you feel the same way?"

shit. he said that out loud?

but before he could say anything, your lips touched his, a wide grin on your face, making his mind go blank. and they molded so perfectly against his own. they felt so soft and full, he was sure you'd get him addicted. like you both were made for each other.

and he was sure you were, because bakugou katsuki does always gets what he wants, after all.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise 3

Part 1

Part 2

Word count: 2K

Pairings: Jake Seresin X Reader

A/N: Round 3 of Pink Promise! I have a few more I want to put out, but if you have something you want to see in them let me know! It's been a lot of fun writing these. Thanks for reading!!

The two of you were sitting around Jake’s house eating takeout Chinese food. Some old movie was playing on the TV. For some reason Jake preferred the classics but you found them to be incredibly boring. It was often you found yourself in this same position, sprawled out on his couch, sitting in a comfortable silence as you watched another movie you couldn’t retell the plot of.

Which is why in that moment you chose to say, “I got into medical school.”

It was nearly comical watching him choke on the spoonful of rice. He sat up and looked over to you, still coughing up those last pieces. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?” The look he gave you was disbelief mixed with something else. Something you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t think I stuttered.” You took a bite of an egg roll and waited for his mind to catch up.

“Medical school? For doctors?” You couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of questions. “Yes, like for doctors. I thought pilots were supposed to be smart?”

He shook his head and laughed, “When the hell did you have time for that?”

You finished off the egg roll and shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think I do all day while you’re at work?”

This path you took was one you had been on for a while Everyone saw you as the girl who parties, the one who doesn’t care about the outcome of her decisions. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth. And instead of showing people how wrong they were about you, you let them form their very low opinions. Pleasing people was never one of your strong points and a few judgmental comments weren’t going to tear you down.

Jake was clearly still processing things but paused the movie to give you his full attention. What he said next though, nearly made you cry right then and there.

“I am so proud of you, sweetheart. Holy crap you are going to be a doctor.” He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. It was then the look on his face made more sense. It was a look of pride, and one you hadn’t gotten before.

“Tell me all about it. Where are you going? When do you start?” His enthusiasm for this made you feel something that part of you was afraid to feel. This man was slowly becoming your best friend, which is why you pushed down all other feelings. No need to ruin a good thing.

“Well, I decided I wanted to stay close to home and was lucky enough to get into the University of California San Diego. My GPA was a little short of what they wanted, but I killed the interview. Something about your dad dying while fighting for his country tends to pull on heartstrings.”

Jake shook his head, “You did not pull that card.”

You waved a hand at him, “Please. I would be dumb not to. I also threw in about staying close to the base in case anything happened to Bradley. And that I might follow in the family footsteps one day.”

Jake’s head tilted at the last part. “You are not enlisting. I draw the line at that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Down tiger. All I meant was that I would want to work at a hospital close to base. The one all of you get sent to when something goes wrong.”

Relief was evident as he exhaled. “I don’t think the military could handle you anyway.”

It was true. You were never one to follow orders well. Plus having a third Bradshaw in the Navy would be too much for anyone.

You picked the remote back up and resumed the movie. While Jake thought this was a big deal, you were ready to get back to the movie night. You still had a few months until school started anyway.

The movie had been playing for a few minutes, but you could feel eyes on you every now and then. “Is something the matter?”

You glanced over to the man next to you and watched him shake his head. “Nothing. You just keep surprising me, that’s all.”

“Well, either turn your attention back to this movie or I’m putting something better on. Maybe something made in this decade.” A chuckle graced your ears and a quick, “Yes ma’am.”

It wasn’t until the credits were running that he said, “You better not forget about me when you become a big shot doctor.”

“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried.” And it was the truth. That one drunken call has led you to one of the best things in life.

“Pinky promise you won’t.” He had his signature smirk on full display as he held out his pinky for you to shake on. You happily gave him yours, thrilled that the Top Gun pilot has accepted this form of promises.

When he pulled away, he asked, “What made you want to become a doctor?” It was a simple question with a very loaded answer.

“When my mom was sick, it was just me and her most of the time. Bradley was off at the academy, something she wouldn’t tell him but absolutely hated. And I found myself wanting to give her some sort of joy to offset my brother’s choices. I made her a promise that I was going to graduate and get a degree in something. Something that would make a difference. It took a while to figure out what that was, but the look of pride on her face when I said medical school, I only wish I had a photo of that single moment.

“When there were days I questioned if I could do it or if I even still wanted to, I think back to that conversation and all doubts went out the window. There are very few things in life I want more than graduating from med school which is why I worked so hard to even get it.” Jake wiped a tear that I didn’t know had fallen.

“She would’ve been happy that you accomplished a goal while still holding onto yourself. That you had fun while doing it. Not too many people can find that balance which tells me you are going to do amazing. But if you ever need some sort of motivation or a simple distraction from school, you can call me anytime sweetheart.”

And just like that, you knew Jake Seresin was going to be in your life for as long as you could keep him.

After the incident a little while back, your brother made an effort to be more present in your everyday life. Which meant he was currently over at your apartment criticizing how you were making dinner.

“At any point you can either cook yourself or shut up.” Bradley held up his hands in surrender.

“All I’m saying is that you are going to burn the bottom of it if you don’t stir it more often.” You turned around from the food and pointed the utensil in your hand at him. Which just so happened to be a knife.

“Listen here bird boy. My house, my rules which means you can sit your judgmental ass down before I do something you can’t bounce back from. Last I checked you needed all ten fingers to fly.”

Again, he held up his hands and thankfully kept his mouth shut while you finished up. It wasn’t too much longer before you were dishing out food for the two of you and sitting down to eat it like a normal family. The two of you sat in silence while you ate, neither of you knowing what to say.

It was like this most nights. After your mom died Bradley threw himself into his work, leaving you to fend for yourself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the two of you grew apart as the years went on, leaving you to call your brother only when you needed help. This is what formed his new picture of you. He only saw you when you were at your worst.

But he was trying and the least you could do was meet him halfway.

“You know how you see me as careless and not at all organized with life?” You watched as your brother sighed and shook his head.

“We have gone over this. That is not how I see you. We just have different goals in life and that’s fine.” You waved him off.

“Right. Well, I am pleased to tell you that I’m not as big as a fuck up as you might think. I start med school in a few months.” Bradley dropped his spoon, sending food splattering on the counter.

You watched his facial expressions, looking or hoping for the one you got the other day from Jake. It wasn’t that you needed the validation from your brother, but it would be nice to see it for once.

“Med school? The school where you go to become a doctor?” You snorted at the similar question Jake had asked.

“What is with pilots and their lack of common sense. Yes, Bradley. The school for doctors.” You grabbed a napkin to wipe up the drops of food while he tried to form words.

“How?” You froze at that single word. It shouldn’t surprise you, the lack of faith this man had in you. But it still stung.

“The same way anyone gets in. Ace a test, get decent grades, and interview well. Not too hard when you think about it.” Which wasn’t exactly true. You had a lot of all-nighters, tears shed at the near impossible dream, and many bumps along the way. But you had to do it.

“Mom and dad would be proud of you.” Your eyes met his and you saw something different in them. It wasn’t the pride you were looking for but sadder. Like the weight of those words cut through him.

“I know. I was always trying to follow in your footsteps, even if I did take a longer path. But you know dad would’ve been ecstatic to see you wear the patch he tried so hard for. And mom, well mom would’ve eventually gotten over her fears of you being a pilot and saw how you were born for this. You know that, right?”

He cleared his throat and focused back on his food. “Anyone else know? It’s a pretty big deal.”

You picked up on the change of topic and said, “Your arch nemesis knows. Besides that, the friend list is pretty scarce these days.”

He slowly nodded his head, “You seem to spend a lot of time with him.”

“He’s a good friend. No need to look too far into it. I know the two of you have your issues, but he’s never given me a reason to question his intentions.”

Bradley hummed in response, but he didn’t fully believe you when it comes to only being friends. He’s seen the way Jake is at work, but with you he was completely different. You might not see it or are trying to ignore it, but he knew better.

“Are you and him still at each other’s throats?” Bradley rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s insufferable.”

You grabbed the finished plates and took them to the sink. “You know what would get under his skin? If you laughed at everything he said. I think that would rile him up good.”

Bradley squinted his eyes at you, “I thought the two of you were friends? Why would you tell me that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “He is always listening to me complain about you. This way he can do it for once so it’s more even.”

Bradley threw his napkin at you and shook his head, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

You threw him one of Jake’s signature smirks, “But I’m your jerk.”

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers

[hwaflms]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ nct dream reaction to you touching yourself!

‧₊˚ 💭 ✩彡 , , 2.5k, smut under the cut [cw: masturbation, degradation, voyeurism, fingering, very mild dubcon in jaemin’s, nudes, allusions to phone sex, established relationship in most, i think that’s it]

♡ mark . . . the poor baby had just gotten back from practice and was nearing the bedroom door when he heard some sounds of what he thought was you in pain or distress. being the sweet boyfriend he was, he hurriedly went to open the door, but the sight that greeted him was certainly not one he was expecting. you were laid out on the bed, your pants pulled only halfway off your legs as if you were too desperate to even bother taking them off fully, a hand stuffed in your underwear as you threw your head back and let out the prettiest sounds, looking so blissful and fucked out. your eyes shot open at the disturbance that was mark's arrival, the light blush coating your cheeks nothing in comparison to the bright, tomato-red one that decorated his. "fuck, um– i'm sorry, lemme just– i'm just gonna go", he mumbles his way into the bathroom, bumping into the door while trying to enter, but you both knew he looked for too long. now what was he supposed to do? it's not like that godly an image of you is going to leave his head anytime soon, no, of course not, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it for days, weeks, months even. sprawled out on the bed like that, lips parted and letting out such dirty, magical sounds– fuck, he couldn't help letting his hand travel into his pants in a similar fashion to you. before he knew it, he was jerking himself off to the thought of you (something he had definitely done before, but he had some wonderful new material now), pumping his cock up and down while his breathing became laboured, but in all his haste and pleasure, he had "forgotten" to lock the door. "um, need a little help there?"

♡ renjun . . . you thought renjun texting you “pleaseee baby, come over tn” meant that the two of you would spend time together until you eventually fell asleep, which did happen for a while until your boyfriend excused him to go play “one game with the boys”. though you rolled your eyes at him, you were fine with him playing a game or two, figuring you could just be on your phone for a bit. you weren’t, however, expecting to be sat on your phone for over an hour, with renjun now having his headphones on (you don’t know what the point was, though, you could still hear all the slurs being shouted mutedly from them). “renjun”, you grouched, but he doesn’t even turn to face you. “if you wanna leave me for a man, just say that.” he does laugh at this, but he pleads “one last one”, making you sigh and slump back down on the bed. you had chosen the pretty, new lace underwear you had bought the other day to wear tonight, but now you’re too salty to let him take it off you. deciding to take matters into your own hands, you shimmy out of your shorts, rubbing circles over your underwear with your eyes trained on his back. if he was too busy to touch you, what’s stopping you from doing it yourself? you try and fail to stifle your moans with your arm as you slip your hand into your underwear, rubbing your clit for a moment before dipping your fingers into your entrance. “renjun…”, you call out again, but both of you know it sounds different this time, and he glances over his shoulder at you. it’s almost comical the way he does a double take, pushing his headphones off of one ear, to get a clear look at you. slowly but surely, the tips of his ears and cheeks are dusted with red, but his eyes still shyly observe the hand concealed by your underwear. “oh…”, he sounds out while you throw your head back and whine, his headphones now fully off and you could hear whoever he was on call with distantly calling out “renjun? renjun, what the fuck we’re losing?” he shuts off his computer screen without even looking at it, getting up and slowly walking over to you, sinking down on the edge of the bed. “you just gonna sit there or you gonna help me?”, you grumble, but his eyes don’t miss the way your hips buck up. “wanna watch.”

♡ jeno . . . you swear you had meant to wait for him to return, you had tried your best to busy yourself while jeno was at schedules. he had told you the exact time that he would return, no earlier, no later, than 7:30 p.m. and there he was, promptly unlocking your front door at 7:29 p.m., expecting you to be reading a book in your room, or baking brownies-for-one in your underwear in the kitchen. he definitely wasn’t expecting the sight that greeted him. he had given you one rule for when he was away at work, to “not touch what’s mine”, one simple rule. you seemed eager enough to please him before he left, so he certainly wasn’t expecting to hear moans coming from the kitchen. he watches you for all of five seconds, back facing him with one hand disappearing into the waistband of your shorts, head thrown back a little as you leaned against the counter. “what are you doing?”, the sharp, gruff way in which he says it make you stop immediately, yanking your hand out of your shorts and holding it behind you. it was one thing if you were pleasuring yourself in the bedroom, but right out here? in the kitchen? jeno promptly walks over to you, reaching over and clasping the hand behind your back tightly, jerking it over to him. your fingers all but glisten when held under the ceiling light, and your cheeks redden at the short “pathetic” he spits while looking at you. not breaking the heavy eye contact, he closes his lips over your two fingers, swirling his tongue around them before releasing them with a ‘pop!’. the next thing you know, your face is being pressed against the cold granite surface of the counter hard, while jeno’s other hand holds both your wrists together behind your back. “you know how to count, right?”, he asks demeaningly, and while he lets go of your head, your cheek is still pressed against the counter so hard you can see the condensation form as you breath, nodding your head before he yanks your shorts down with such force that you can still feel the burn on your hips five seconds later. he places the palm of his hand flat against your ass, pulling your underwear up to reveal more flesh. “i’m gonna show you what happens to whores when they don’t follow a simple rule.”

♡ haechan . . . “well, well, well," you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, tone dripping, pouring with desire, just sounding so sultry. your eyes shot open at the sound of him, squealing shortly and rushing to cover yourself up with the blanket. "what do we have here?", he cooed from the door, one foot in front of the other and a hand placed against the doorframe, leaning against it. "f-fuck off, hyuck", you replied breathlessly, cheeks dusted with pink due to your embarrassment and also the rush you were feeling from touching yourself. he wasn't supposed to be back so early, you thought you were going to be alone for a little while longer; clearly you were wrong. "fuck off? did you mean 'fuck me'?", he drawled, letting out a half scoff and half chuckle, slowly sauntering towards you. “why don’t you show me what you were doing there?”, his suggestion sounds more like an order, and its like you lose the ability to think when he reaches over you to lead the hand straying away from your pussy right back, inclining his head to the side expectantly. under his urging, watchful eyes, you continue your previous actions, eyes widening when hyuck lets out an almost pornographic moan at the sight. sinking your fingers deeper into yourself, you whimper out of pure frustration from the fact that these were your fingers instead of his, and you swear you are almost in tears when he says, “stop”. he’s quick to replace your fingers with his own, coating his digits in your wetness before pumping two into you without any warning. “think you can give me three? maybe four orgasms?”, he cooes, tutting when you shake your head ‘no’. “i think we’re gonna find out.”

♡ jaemin . . . “aren’t you sweet?”, to say hearing your roommate jeno’s friend’s sultry voice startled you would be an understatement, fully believing you were home alone when you started pleasuring yourself. “jaemin– what the fuck–”, a blushing, bumbling mess, you’re quick to yank your blanket over your partially naked body, not knowing how long he’d been standing there watching you or how he had gotten into your house in the first place, choosing to ask about the latter first. “how the fuck did you get in? and did no one ever teach you how to knock?”. tilting his head to the side, jaemin raises his eyebrows but makes no efforts to hide the way his eyes scanned over your blanket-covered body, tracing your hips, collarbones, legs with his gaze. “jeno gave me the keys. and that’s not fair, the door wasn’t shut. besides, you called me”, he replies coolly, taking a step into the room but leaving the door wide open, as if you invited him in. “i heard you call my name in that pretty little voice of yours, but i thought you were hurt. didn’t think you were fucking yourself with your fingers to the thought of me.” you move to further cover yourself up as he walks closer to you, embarrassed out of your mind that he both heard you moan his name and watched you touch yourself. but what he does next really has you shocked– eyes never leaving yours, his hand snakes over to his pant-covered cock, gripping it with a satisfied hiss, a smirk curving on his lips when he sees your look of surprise and…desire??? “you see how hard i am for you, pretty?”, he all but moans out and you do see, the outline of his cock straining against the material of his sweatpants and making your mouth almost water at the thought of it. without another word, he’s in front of you, pulling his raging boner free from his pants. “what do you say we give jeno a little show when he comes back?”

♡ chenle . . . “damn, you started without me?” after enjoying the dinner you had cooked for the two of you, you suggested taking a shower together before slipping into bed to watch a show. following the routine that you had wherein one of you would cook and the other would clean, chenle grabbed your plate and his, placing them in the sink and telling you that he’ll be there in about ten minutes after he finished washing the dishes. figuring you could just get undressed and enjoy the extra space in the shower before your boyfriend joined you, you opted to start without him, but leaving the door unlocked for him. the second the hot water hits your body, you are relaxed, letting it soak your hair and cover your body. you trail your hands along your body to further spread the water, but soon you can’t ignore the dull thud coming from your core when you reach your inner thighs. grazing your fingers against yourself and testing the waters, you slowly begin your ministrations, spreading your folds with more intent now. another two minutes in and you’re blatantly touching yourself, head resting against the glass of the shower, steam engulfing its expanse while you sigh out of bliss. chenle, having left the dishes to dry, decided to join you, ridding himself of his clothes and finding the bathroom door to be partially open. when he’s greeted by the sight of you, your back is facing him, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand what you were doing. when you finally hear his voice, you look over your shoulder in surprise and slight embarrassment, but that is soon replaced with pure lust when your eyes mirror the look in his. “thought i’d get a head start”, you offer, slowly picking up the pace with your hand. “is that so?”, he muses, placing his hand over yours but not stopping your actions. “we both know that i can make you cum much faster than you can.”

♡ jisung . . . when you first started dating your boyfriend jisung, you didn’t realise just how much time you’d be spending on your own. if he wasn’t away at practices, he was busy filming various videos and content, so a large portion of your day was spent waiting for him. this was not to say you were unsatisfied with your relationship, you still got to spend time with him and when you did, it was time well spent. all you were saying is that you got a little lonely and bored at times, and that would explain why you were currently standing by the sink, debating whether you should hit send. you had just finished taking a couple photos of yourself during a moment of confidence and horniness and now they sat in the message bar of yours and jisung’s dms, waiting to be sent. you and jisung had gone there multiple times, but nudes were unexplored territory, yet you thought, fuck it, and hit send. even though you know he’s busy, it doesn’t take long before the ‘delivered’ changes to a ‘seen’, and you watch as the typing bubbles appear and disappear a number of times. after five minutes or so, you’re starting to worry and overthink, biting your lip when you see that jisung is now trying to call you. you pick up and play it off with as much confidence as you can, but jisung sounds the opposite– breathing heavy and voice quiet, like he’s trying to make sure no one hears him, and you hear the sound of a lock clicking. “why would you– are you–”, he blubbers, clearly at a loss for words and you can just picture him, cheeks coated with a sheen of red, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing. “what are you doing right now?”, he asks in a goofy manner and you can’t help your chuckle at the sound of his shy voice, cooing into the speaker. “i was missing you, sungie…”, you mewl, positively beaming when you hear him audibly gulp. “was thinking about you.” his breathing quickens and he mumbles “thinking of me?”, before he clears his throat. “what about me?” you smile at his inability to balance his shyness and desire, and you tell him what you were thinking about, soon hearing the telltale sound of a zipper being pulled down.

[venus-haze]

You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!” 

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd. 

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor. 

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too. 

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you. 

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room. 

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set. 

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in. 

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back. 

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

[fandomnerd9602]

The One I Want

Laura Kinney x Spiderpool!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Do you know that one moment where you just feel like you screwed everything up spectacularly? well that happened to me rather recently. Oh sorry where are my manners? my name is (Y/N) (L/N) and on my world I’m known as the spectacularly annoying Spider-Pool. The spectacularly annoying part is debatable.

You see it all started when the TVA zapped me into the void, something about being an anomaly, a profane and unholy combination of both Spider-Man and Deadpool. Honestly, it’s just the best of both worlds in my book or it would be a book if I wasn’t more than just one panel in comic book of the spider verse. True story look it up.

Or it could’ve been the fact that I killed Jared Leto, oh not Morbius. I’m saying I literally killed Jared Leto. It was an accident. I thought I was going after Morbius but oh well.

To make a long story short, I was forced to team up with X-23 or Laura as she likes to be called. One of my all time favorite X-Men characters by the way!

Anyway we found ourselves at an agreement, if I got her back to her timeline and out of the Void she would help me do the same. A good deal all things considered. The only downside is the TVA is so flip floppy. I mean one show it’s the villain the next show it’s good? Fiege, please make up your mind about what the TVA is?!

“You’re sure this plan of ours will work?” Laura told me as we drove thru the woods towards the reported base of the resistance found in the Void.

“If it works, I’ll be happily back in my world by this time tomorrow, Fun Size” Laura’s eyes went wide and she slammed on the brakes, nearly sending me flying into the windshield.

“If?! What do you mean if?!” She was screaming at me. My mind could only formulate the truth. I thought truth telling was Captain America's problem?!

"The TVA are hunting me and I need to get back home to save my world." Oh yeah it all came out like a big old truth salad. A truth salad that you order from Pizza Hut and immediately regret.

Laura began screaming and banging her fists against the steering wheel, "Are you fucking kidding me?! Out of all the spider totems to get stuck in the Void with and I end up with you!"

Oh I knew exactly where this was heading. A teenage superhero such as myself could only baton down the hatches and listen as this beautiful teenage fighting machine chewed me out. How is this both the most embarrassing and fulfilling moment of my life?

"I end up with the biggest fuck up in the multiverse! A spider-deadpool equivalent that couldn't save his Aunt May or Uncle Ben. Twice!"

It's true. I even somehow got my universe's Sean Bean killed. Yes. That Sean Bean. He wasn't even playing my Uncle Ben or anything!

Laura continued her little tirade, "No wonder the Spider Society turned you down! And the Avengers too! You can't save anyone or anything. Your world hates you! The girls you were supposed to love hate you! Mary Jane couldn't stand you. Gwen probably enjoyed death more than you!"

I could feel the anger rising up in the pit of my heart.

"The greatest joke is that no matter how much you wish for death to be with Gwen, you can't die! And it's one of God's greatest jokes on us instead of you!!!"

I was left in stone cold utter silence. I could feel my vision beginning to turn as red as my outfit.

"What?! No witty comeback?!"

"I'm going to fight you now" was all that left my mouth. And you know what? I meant it. Every. Last. Fucking. Word.

"Oh are you-?" THWIP! I shot one of my web guns, a web flew right over her mouth. The anger immediately flared in her eyes. Next thing I knew she lunged at me, claws out.

She grabbed my head and slammed it several times against the car radio. I grabbed her and gently pushed her against the driver seat. Hey I may be in a fight for my life but I’d still never hurt a woman.

Laura took one of her claws and ran it over the web, cutting it. I really should have taken Fictional Chemistry to understand that admantium is stronger than webs.

“This is ridiculous! I can’t hurt a girl!”

“A girl can hurt you!” She retorted before driving her claws in my lungs.

I kicked her straight thru the windshield of the Odyssey and into the forest in front of us. She simply smirked and dove right back thru. I had to admire her tenacity and endurance.

That admiration was interrupted with the familiar feeling of Adamantium being driven straight thru me, over and over.

She began muttering something in Spanish. Sadly I didn’t have the subtitles on so I couldn’t exactly know what she was saying. My Spanish only goes as far as my name: la piscina de aranas.

I pinned her to the second row seats, which were flattened like my heart was after the dog’s death in John Wick.

Laura simply laughed and kicked me straight thru the roof of the Honda. I landed on the roof with a sickening thud and rolled off, hitting the forest floor.

Laura, ever the tease, looked at me thru the window and gave me a come at me signal. “I am a teenage superhero,” I found myself wondering, “how am I terrified and yet so turned on?”

I pulled out my punch daggers and dived right thru the side window.

We traded blows and slashes. She let out a few huffs and groans. She straddled me and begins driving her claws repeatedly, coating the interior with a lovely shade of my blood.

She paused and looked at me in concern, “is that a Glock in your pocket?!”

“I never keep a Glock in there” I laughed before pulling out another gun, “I keep a Desert Eagle!”

Blam! Blam! I fired off several shots at her, one of which hit her rib and the other hit one of her claws.

“That all you got?” She asked me thru gritted teeth.

I grabbed my web gun and shot off several shots, encasing one of her arms in a giant web. She cut right thru it and lunges at me again. She forced us into the remaining back third row. Yeah the Odyssey has three rows. Three rows of get your freak on.

Next thing I knew Laura was looking at me with those brown eyes of hers. It had a mixture of anger and... Wait what was that? Is that lust?!

Well I guess it was. Because the next thing I knew she was driving her claws into the sides of the seats to my left and my right and then she kissed me full on lip lock with teeth hitting mine lip lock. Holy Stan Lee!

Each little growl that escaped her mouth was like a bit of heaven, a symphony to my ears, and quite possibly a fear of hell.

“I…uhh…” my brain tried to comprehend the exact situation that I was going through. It was something so great and yet so terrifying and couldn’t help it intrigue me even more.

“You talk too much” was her only response before she continued her onslaught of kisses. And boy was she right.

She shoved me down onto the remaining back seat, her lips never leaving mine. I began rubbing little circles into her back as the Honda continued rocking back and forth.

It was night by the time we had worked thru all of our differences…and no we did not go any farther than a PG-13 would allow.

Laura nuzzled me, laying against my chest. We shared a bottle of Coke that we found earlier. I gotta admit, besides the whole trying to kill me thing, I could really see a long partnership with her. Both crime fighting and in private.

“I’m sorry” she whispered. “It’s not your fault. The TVA is just the worst.”

“Yeah” I agreed, “sorry I shot you with a Desert Eagle”

Laura simply smirked and held up the bullet before dropping it on the Honda’s floor. “I’ll help you get back home”

“I’ll make sure you have a home to get back to.” I smiled at her and gave her forehead a little kiss.

“Aww” a new voice broke the silence. Laura and I turned to see Deadpool and Wolverine staring at us from outside the Honda.

“Young love” Deadpool chimed in.

OK, so not exactly how I was expecting this whole date to go, but I gotta say turn out better than I thought it would. And what can I say the Honda Odyssey really fucks.

[metranart]

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 6)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS CHAPTER

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship.

-

Megumi raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "What's going on?”

Without a doubt, they had raised Megumi to be better than them, more skilled, stronger, and way more, smarter...

“What’s going on where?” Gojo feigned innocence, cocking his head to the side slightly. “I don’t-”

“-Sure, you do, Satoru.” Megumi was quick to interrupt holding the same eyebrow up. 

“Dad, you are supposed to call me Dad or Daddy, how many timed do I have to ask you, Megumi.” Gojo teased, hiding his nervousness behind fake annoyance, all his efforts put on gaining a few more minutes. 

Megumi growled in annoyance at the old act his adoptive father used to play when he wanted to get his attention. Since he was little, was always the same fight with Satoru Gojo-... the young adult swallowed his annoyance and instead tried to go downstairs to get you, only to find himself flanked by Gojo, but this time by his broad body getting strategically on the way.

"Why are you blocking my way?" Megumi asked without patience, and Gojo snickered, lamely.

"Am I?" chuckled out the special grade sorcerer awkwardly, "...you misunderstand me, my child, I-I…I just want a kiss on the cheek from my Gumi-"

"NO!" Megumi’s voice raised, cheeks coloring with embarrassment, and Gojo saw it as his chance to take advantage of his obvious discomfort to get closer, to block his path better, to buy more time for you to come back from that mind-blowing orgasm he had just given you, all disguised behind his typical and characteristic needy self, finally his spoiled personality will serve someone else’s than him. "Come on, Gumi. Give Daddy a goodnight kiss-"

"...You're crazy, I'm not a child anymore... stay away!" Megumi grunted, pressing his strong palm on Satoru’s face who kept insisting on invading his personal space, lips raised, pouting like a fool who was ready to steal that embarrassing kiss. "Stop it, Satoru!"

"Satoru, leave him alone, he didn't even want to kiss you as a child... now that he's older, even less so." Both struggling sorcerers heard Geto say with an amused chuckle right next to them.

Satoru pouted throwing a tantrum but internally highly relieved, if Geto was there that meant that you...

"Satoru-sensei, if you're going to be harassing us like that, I'd better go," your voice made its appearance, that hint of tiredness and shortness of breath disguised behind false irritation.

"(Y/N)," Megumi sounded surprised, his cheeks exploding at being caught in such an awkward domestic scenario and forcing himself to use all his strength pushed Gojo off him.

"How mean are my favorite students with their poor sensei," Gojo complained, putting a hand against his chest to feign indignation, "...if I didn't know that I was your favorite professor, I'd be offended-"

"You're not our favorite professor." Megumi answered mercilessly, and you supported him, only to fall once again into the usual protocol, a protocol that would chase away any suspicion from Megumi's mind of what was really happening between you and his parents.

"Nanami is our favorite." You delivered the final thrust, and Gojo's shoulders drooped comically, Suguru laughing at the comical outcome.

From where he stood, the curse-eater could see from the corner of his eye that slight tremor that accompanied your knees, the way the muscles in your thighs continued to have involuntary spasms, your pretty hands squeezing your uniform shirt to catch your breath and summoning all your strength to keep you upright when the only thing you wanted at that moment was to collapse and rest.

That orgasm had been way too intense, it was the longest minute of your life, you had never cum so fast and so hard, every nerve felt on fire, your sensei had ripped every ounce of strength from your body, and you could only think about now was sleep.

"-It's late, maybe we should go rest, Megumi."

You suggested quickly, hoping that you could catch your breath in the arms of Morpheus, clean the saliva that covered your thighs and pussy, and sleep under Megumi's sweet and safe company.

Megumi nodded, handing the briefing to Satoru and offering you his hand, which you took without hesitation to let him guide you up to his room.

"Leave the door open," Suguru commented a little too firmly, and immediately regretted his involuntary spurt of unnecessary jealousy.

"We are not children anymore, Suguru-san. Good night." Was Megumi's final response.

Gojo and Suguru were reduced to wishing you goodnight, there was nothing else they could do, they had to control themselves no matter how much what was happening bothered them.

"G-Good night, Suguru-san, Satoru-san." You said and both softened their voices to respond.

"Good night, (Y/N)."

"Sleep well, little one."

A growl was the last thing that was heard before the door to Megumi's room was closed and the latch put on, you were now inside the room of their adopted son, and they couldn't feel more uneasy.

-

No matter how much you insisted, Megumi wouldn't let you sleep on the futon on the floor, giving you his bed instead.

"I don't mind, (Y/N). I prefer that tomorrow you are at your best for the mission." He had said without letting you protest, getting into the futon and watching you from below as you climbed onto her bed and snuggled against her pillow. 

“Thank you, Gumi.” 

Were the last words you directed at him making him smile timidly before darkness reigned in the room as did silence, only a ray of moonlight subtly illuminating one part of the room until Megumi's eyes became accustomed to the shadows.

How he wanted to be in that same bed with you, his arms around you, your face against his chest, your warm breath against his skin.... he had to stop thinking about it or he couldn't control himself. 

Megumi closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, and his cheeks flushed when he opened his eyes again and found you looking at him from the edge of her mattress. A mischievous smile kidnapped your lips, and you couldn’t stop to tease him.

"What were you thinking, Megumi Fushiguro?" you asked him in a not-so-innocent whisper, "your cheeks are red, and you look agitated..." you continued, ignoring how uncomfortable he looked, "tell me, best friends don't keep secrets from each other."

Megumi gulped and you could see the abrupt movement of his Adam's apple.

"-Nothing interesting," the black-haired man answered, looking away.

"Liar,” you accused, “don't you trust me?" you asked him and this time, his mouth opened without his permission, letting out his biggest insecurity.

"Trust? How dare you-” he cut himself mid-speech and instead, asked. “... You like older men?"

"Older men?" you repeated dazedly.

The question was out there with all its implications and silence reigned once again in the room, "I know I declared my feelings to you this morning but-" Megumi steeled himself, "-but I need to know if you prefer them... "

Megumi's heart beat a mile a minute. You're smart, he doesn't need to say more for you to know who he's referring to. He's not stupid, he's not easy to fool... of course, he noticed the traces of sweat covering your face, your rosy cheeks and your shortness of breath, combined with Satoru's needy attitude so suddenly, something was happening and even though he refused with fervent stubbornness to believe that you could have an affair with his guardians... he needed to say it out loud and hear you deny it out loud. Megumi wants you for himself, you are soulmates. Satoru and Suguru already have each other, it's only fair that they let him have you.

Your silence felt like a hot knife piercing his beating heart, that heart that for years has only beaten for you, for your attention, for your affection.

Megumi sighed heavily, and this time it was anger at your cowardice that made him insist.

"Who do you prefer? Satoru or Suguru?" this time his question dripped venom, "Despite their age, both are still very popular with-"

"I prefer you." Your sudden confession stopped him in his tracks, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Don't just tell me what I want to hear, (Y/N)-"

His stubborn mouth was silenced as your soft lips claimed it. Slowly he felt you crawling from the safety of the bed towards his dangerous futon, where he would no longer be or want to be the kind boy who only held your hand timidly.

Your tongue pushed its way between his lips and Megumi's crotch woke up, firm and throbbing against his pajama pants. His hips stuttering up against your warm, covered core, he doesn't want to force you into anything you don't want but he's not in control anymore.

"...Are you sure?" Megumi forced himself to ask and immediately scolded himself for fear of a refusal, but you grinned against his mouth and your tongue licked his lips before asking.

"You do not want?"

Megumi nodded, "I want, I want you more than I need air." The black-haired man declared fervently, "...I just want you to-"

"I want to, Megumi." You voiced out and he shuddered with excitement, "I want you to do to me everything you've been planning for almost two years-"

"Three years, hun." Megumi revealed, stealing little pecks from your panting lips, "Three agonizing years, I've loved you since you set foot in school-"

"Then don't hold back, Megumi." And that was all the permission the young adult needed to let go.

His head shifted to the side finding refuge in the hollow of your neck. Slightly parted lips pressing too insistently against the tender skin as he bathed it in warm, elaborated breaths. 

“You had your chance.” Megumi warned and soon, there was nothing innocent or gentle about the way his lips moved against yours, or his hands slipped under your pajamas, or the way he gets rid of those cumbersome layers of clothes.

This boy’s actions were fierce and desperate, could feel the heat radiating with each touch, each movement was devastatingly daring and conceived just to drive you to the edge and let you rush into the abyss of his very soul. It was the true essence of a greedy man who had been asleep for far too long under layers of control. Each layer had been ripped apart by your acceptance of his feelings and now only the raw man remained, wide awake and hungry.

You felt at his mercy, more precisely, like his willing prey. 

Megumi grew too enamored with the plush curve of your hips and all restriction flew away from his rational grasp.

“Fuck-…. Do your very best not to scream, baby.” 

COMING SOON PART 7....

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS CHAPTER.

[longing-for-the-past-times]

finding out it's your birthday

task force 141 x reader

synopsis: It's your birthday, but you don't know how to tell your teammates about it

notes: don't really know how to properly describe this, but it's based on this request and my personal experience of having to spend my birthday at work (no, I did not bring them baked goods, just sweets from the shop). Really short, not proofread, no plot.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated🙈

warnings: none

find it on ao3 masterlist

"and now I am dreaming and you're singing at my birthday// and I've never seen you smile so big" - moon song

There were a lot of potential ways you could have spent your birthday, but running through the narrow hallways of the base with a heavy backpack slung over a shoulder definitely hadn't been one of them

You almost crashed into other three operators, including König from KorTac who had the common sense to place his heavy hands on your shoulders in an attempt to steady you before you ran him over in your rush to get to the meeting room

Laswell had advanced the hour the post-mission debriefing was supposed to take place and it ended up clashing with your own schedule, the one day you decided to organise your actions into one and now you were late by almost 5 minutes. Which wouldn't seem like much to some, but being a member of Task Force 141 meant you needed to uphold a certain standard.

But it was your birthday and even if you were 99% sure no one was actually aware of it, you'd spent the morning baking oat cookies and muffins, and carefully packing them into casseroles. You also tried to bring them to the destination with minimal damage, but now you could only hope there was something edible left of the baked goods.

"I'm sorry I'm late!", you meekly excused yourself, taking a seat between Ghost and Soap and blushing slightly when feeling Price's judging glare.

"Anyway, as I was saying when you tried to infiltrate through this crack in the perimeter…"

Slightly tapping your left foot against the floor, you couldn't focus on Laswell's words. What if they didn't like the cookies - you were never able to make them both soft and chewy - or what if the muffins stuck to the muffin liners? Did you put too many chocolate chips in them?

"Y/N? What's your take on this?"

You looked at Price with an alarmed expression, panic bubbling up in your chest upon seeing the questioning looks of the others. You didn't catch the last part of the question - were they asking about your birthday? Laswell must have known, she was the one responsible for all the intelligence after all.

So you did what seemed the most logical thing to do. You opened the backpack and placed the plastic casseroles on the table, unaware that everyone else in the room was literally frozen in place.

"So yeah, it's my birthday today and I made some cookies and muffins and thought it would be nice to share them with you and… that's not what you were talking about, is it?"

Your words trailed as you realised that the timing wasn't as ideal as you planned. At least, now you were sure they hadn't known: Price's eyes were widened comically, and Gaz was repeatedly blinking at you in confusion and disbelief. Soap let out a thunderous laugh as he instantly pulled you into a bear hug and Ghost… you couldn't tell his expression under the mask, but the blank look in his eyes meant he was probably still wrapping his head around it

"How about we forget any of this happened and I do it again after the debrief is over?" A blush spread on your cheeks as you tried to put the casseroles back into the backpack, but you were stopped by Gaz's firm grip.

"Are you kidding? It's your birthday, we should celebrate - go out for drinks and do karaoke and-"

Price and Kate shared a knowing look between themselves and shook their heads in defeat. Before being able to ask them what was the matter, Kate closed the laptop and began to stuff the files back into the manilla folders

"Happy birthday, Y/N! We will resume this tomorrow. And now tell me, what kind of oats did you use for the cookies, plain or instant? My wife's been trying to make them this chewy, but she never seems to get the recipe right."

It was your turn to open your mouth in disbelief when you saw Price joining Kate at the table, securing a casserole of oat cookies just for themselves

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?", he asked in a gentle tone, fishing breadcrumbs from his moustache.

"I… It's not that important, I mean…"

You couldn't help but flinch when someone placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly, as if in reassurance. You turned your look to Ghost, who was holding a pink muffin in his gloved hand. His mask was lifted up to his nose, revealing his tight-lipped smile:

"Don't ever say that again, ok? That is all the more reason to celebrate it. You were the one who got us out safe from the bunker after all…"

And you could swear you saw his lips twitching into a smile, a playful glimmer dancing in his eyes as he bit into the cupcake

[ferrstappen]

mónaco l Carlos Sainz

(a/n): this is a very short piece based on one of my favorite songs of all time which, by coincidence, is called Mónaco by Lagos and Danny Ocean. If you listen to it you can picture yourself having a summer romance with Carlos, true story. I'd love to dive deeper into it, but idk I just needed to get it out fast for some reason. hope you like it, feedback is always welcomed<3

summary: pero si algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco (but if there’s something left in us then it’s everything that happened in Monaco)

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre

she'd never forget the warm september night when Carlos took her to the casino for the first time. He still wasn't very familiar with the principality and she was just a fleeting person for a couple of weeks, months, and he couldn't count on her of all people to know the streets of the heavenly Monaco.

As the flutes of Don Perignon continued to flow, he became more and more animated, trying his best to explain the intricate science behind poker and the true meaning behind each card. But despite his best efforts, she found herself unable to concentrate on his words. Instead, she was deeply lost in his eyes, taking in every detail of his sparkling hazel hue.

As she continued to stare, he finally noticed the piercing gaze, causing a warm flush to rise in his cheeks. A shy smile appeared on his lips, and she couldn't resist the urge to lean in and place a gentle kiss on them and when she pulled away, his smile grew wider making her fall deeper and deeper in this announced tragedy.

Everything was good until Carlos realized he was drunk, couldn't drive and didn't remember his address, eyes growing comically large as he came to terms that his alcohol-consumed brain really couldn't remember the name of his street, meaning someone had to drive him and his companion through the beautifully and carefully lit streets until one of you started to recognize his complex and as unusual and absurd of a situation they were in, she couldn't stop giggling as the streets kept passing by in a blur and watched Carlos still trying his best to remember.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar.

her time in Monaco was over and Carlos' career in Toro Rosso was steadily climbing, he couldn't afford to take his mind off the track and she understood, she was willing to fly over just to see him.

but it started to fade away.

she was still willing to deal with three layovers to see Carlos, and his caramel eyes still sparkled when he saw her, but there was something missing, this wasn't like their late nights in strolling around Monaco, drinking cheap wine even if they could afford a way nicer bottle.

they weren't stupid, this wasn't meant to last any longer than a couple weeks in autumn, a simple memory, one of those people you can close your eyes and feel their scent, mind playing tricks that maybe if they closed their eyes long enough they might get a feel of the soft skin of each other, running her thumb through his cheek while he tried to fall asleep.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco.

she stopped flying over, Carlos stopped asking her to spend the weekends off in his apartment, just the two of them

Both reminded themselves this wasn't meant to last, wasn't supposed to create one single string, but they both failed.

chances were, they would find each other again maybe on another holiday, another masters degree, PhD, Grand Prix; a part two, a proper goodbye to te September walks in heels she couldn't take off in order to not get a fine, pouting so Carlos would carry her on his back, as if they knew each other their entire lives.

it wasn't important now.

all they had left was what happened in Monaco.

-------------------------------------------------

translations <3

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre: i don't know if you remember about the time we got lost in September.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar: so many times i took three layovers just to see you, I think I got used to having you as if it was never gonna end.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco: i know it's too late to come back and staying wasn't our plan, i don't know if there's gonna be a second time, but if something's that's left in us is everything that happened in Monaco.

[directdogman]

Hello Hound!! Since it's Dialtown's 2nd anniversary, I've been planning up a few "general" related questions about your series that I've been meaning to ask, but I decided to save them up for the big day because why not? Anyways, here's what I've got, these were meant to be fun to answer so don't sweat it :]

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

That's all I have for now, and I'm really excited to see your answers!!

I normally don't answer this many questions, but... alright, sure, tis the season!

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

Yeah, of course! I'm a lil proud, admittedly, but I'm aware of how comically little I really have to do with it all, even if I did make the game. Luck does play a LOT into it, of course. Granted, I made my share of predictions that wound up being useful, but it always comes down to lady luck at the end of the day. I've seen good projects fail and bad ones go viral. It's really all just a hodgepodge of probability and whimsy. That being said, I am very pleased with DT's success, and the community that's formed around the game! It caught me by surprise!

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

Gingi's always fun to write. And Mingus. Most painful is tough to say. Maybe Crown. I got a little weird when I wrote his full backstory, kinda caught up in the emotion Norm talks about. Never been a fan of stories getting cut short. You gotta wonder what would've happened if he'd made different choices, y'know?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

Honestly? Karen, probably. She's super underrated for sure. The fandom still loves her, but she doesn't get the same kind of attention as Oliver, Gingi, Randy, Norm. She's worth it.

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

Oh, I already have. I have this monstruous 30-40 page document detailing Crown's life and entire career. It's quite a read. and quite a mind-fuck if you don't know Dialtown's universe too well.

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

Oh yeah, a few characters had scenes that were cut. Stabby, Shooty, Mingus, Bunny, even Bigfoot! There's also the game's cut 6th datable, who was an interesting character with ties to other characters in the cast who I wanted to do more with. Ah, maybe one day.

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

Bigfoot. I made the ape noises in the suit. Had to. It felt right.

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

I quite like Norm's set, Mingus' too. Karen's poses too are quite good.

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

That answer probably changes every day. I like pretty much any scene where Mingus loses her temper.

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

I'd love to make sequels one day! I've got a lot of ideas for where the characters/story would end up. By the time DT1 wrapped up, I'd conceptualized way too much stuff to put in one game (without it taking another few years to finish), so if I ever wanted to make sequels, I'd 100% know where to start! But, that's a later down the road conversation.

For now, I'm gonna keep working on the Roger DLC and if there's demand for more, I can go from there :)

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

I guess I COULD do that with, like, anything. Nothing immediately springs to mind, since, y'know, I'm in control of the canon anyway. I will say, I've seen headcanons and theories that ARE scarily accurate to canon, to the point where I've feared people would just think I'm lifting stuff from the fanbase! It's a good thing I talk about these things with collaborators, huh? I've got a PAPER-TRAIL!!!

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

Finishing a new scene and realizing how stupidly long it was (without me realizing it) was always a treat. But yeah, writing the characters had to be it. Specifically any scene where a character the audience knows meets someone the audience doesn't know well (or at all), with the dynamic changing. Those are fun to write.

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

Hard question to answer. I do really wanna give a high number, but truthfully, a lot of game dev actually isn't super 'fun'. Some tasks are, granted, but many parts are a slog. Sitting and formatting dialogue, and then adding text pauses and pose changes isn't exactly a super thrilling activity. The engine itself also has some issues which I have to work around that adds to the workplace. Play-testing a scene for the 4th time isn't super fun either, or trying to figure out why the game crashes on some PCs and ONLY very rarely... Those tasks are Sisyphean to some degree.

...But, while most of those parts aren't fun, it's all still rewarding. There's a sense of accomplishment when you finish a scene. You get to look back at your hard work, remember the hours you spent typing dialogue into a text box and formatting mass amounts of pngs, painstakingly + manually getting the game's awful pre-loader to deal with the sprites right, etc... and suddenly, at the end, you've got this lil experience that people can play and enjoy. Somehow, the sum of all of those not so fun activities has created something that's going to make people laugh, feel happy. That's special. and even if some parts of development weren't super fun on their own, that's always what I remember. That in the end, all of those not so fun days mattered.

The route I agonized the most over was Oliver's. I went through a few weeks of writer's block, and now, it's one of the most popular routes in the game! Crazy how that happens. I was SURE for about a week that people would rank the route at the bottom! That's what I mean, all of the stress I went through trying to figure it out amounted to something people connected with! To think I almost CUT the route entirely!!!

And y'know, God knows Dialtown gave me something to throw myself at during a time where I REALLY needed the outlet. I'm very grateful to the project for that. So, I'll give DT an honorary 8 out of 10, even if it wasn't a consistently 8/10 experience making it heh heh! Sure glad I did, though and I'm very glad if any of you reading this had a really good time playing it! :)

Thanks for the questions!