#ahem. i need to get my ass to work and draw something for this

[pillsopa]

Hi I read your tags and I’m glad someone agrees with me about Blue and Lisa being similar! I’m actually thinking about writing an au where Blue is Lisa and Noah is the Creature, Orla as Taffy like you said, possibly Henry as Lit Mag bro? Was thinking I could make Neeve the Janet / have her be Orla’s mom instead of Jimmi and it could play off themes similar to Blue in BLLB when she’s dealing with feeling abandoned by Maura but a more concrete version of that grief, Gansey doesn’t really fit any of the chars (I did temporarily think about making him Creature but I just think dynamically Noah will work better for that) so I’m debating between having past Bluesey so she’s mourning her mom and him or leaving it out and just focusing on Blue x Noah I kind of don’t have anyone to bounce ideas off of for this (also I watched the movie three days ago and adored it so thoughts are a jumble!) so wondered what you thought lol

DUDE I’m so glad someone else hopped in on this train (one passenger. it was me) THIS AU IDEA IS SO GOOD..i had gone the Basic route and was blueseyfying it but Creature Noah makes so much sense☹️…both forgotten and abandoned then remembered and loved. yeah you’re cooking for sure!!!! this is making me want to rewatch LF which i should’ve done in the first place cause i’m clearly not done eyeballing them under a magnifying glass lmao. i actually need to reread trc too who am I kidding… anyways i’m fully on board with this idea. seated in first class even…TAKE THE WHEEL

[https-bakugo]

Chapter 07.

♡ twenty three

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : Play fighting, talks of drinking

"Oi dumbass." Katsuki huffs as you look up from where you were seated on the couch, scrolling through your phone,

"Don't call me that stupid." You grin, tossing your phone to the side and getting up. "What's up buddy?"

Katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Grab the chilli powder. Top shelf. On the left. Far left." He instructs and you raise an eyebrow.

"Ordering me around? How rude."

"Not helping me make dinner? I think that makes you, the rude one here."

"I'm the guest!" You gasp, placing a hand on your chest, in mocking offence.

Katsuki scoffs. "Uh huh. Well my hands are full of batter. So if you would rather be doing the dirty work I would be glad to wash them and sit on the couch." 

He grins, moving his batter covered hands towards you, making you shriek and stumble back.

Katsuki cackles, stepping forward and sticking his hands out, chasing you around his kitchen with his dirty hands.

"Okay okay!" You shout, sides hurting from the running and all the laughing. "I'll grab you the chilli powder!! Just please! Mercy!" 

Katsuki slows to a stop and grins triumphant. "I won then."

"A draw."

"Nah I won that one."

"Nah I'd say it was a draw."

"You'd say wrong cause I won."

You shake your head and trudge back into the kitchen, reaching for the chilli powder and along with Katsuki's supervision, adding it into the batter.

"Thanks." He mumbled under his breath, rolling his arms, pulling a crick out of his shoulders as he got back into cooking you both dinner.

Your eyes stay trained on his skilled hands as they work, watching each muscle flex under his warm skin. His body looked warm - buzzing with blood and nitroglycerin… you wondered how his skin would feel under your fingertips and the palms of your hands.  

"You're staring." Katsuki says in a matter of fact tone, snapping you out of your train of thought.

"Since when were you able to cook, Bakugo?"

He paused and turned to frown at you, raising an eyebrow at you. "Are you sure you paid any attention to me during highschool? We lived in the same fucking dorms for three years? Didn't I cook for the whole damn class on multiple occasions?" 

You wave your hands in front of your face and shake your head, "Not what I was asking. Like- why?"

"Why what?" He mumbles, going back to cooking.

"Why did you learn to cook?"

"Why not?"

"Bakugo."

"What?"

You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow.

He sighs and taps his foot against the tiled floor.

"I uh... I know you won't believe me but I was a difficult kid to control growin' up," 

You snort and Katsuki rolls his eyes, 

"Yea, real funny. I caused my old hag a lot of fuckin' stress when I was younger..." 

He paused. 

"I probably still do… all this hero shit and comin’ home banged up... ahem. Anyways. My old hag thought I needed a healthy outlet for the- and I quote, 'Crappy ass anger in you.'" 

He shrugged, walking over to the sink and washing his hands, 

"And she decided cooking would be the best outlet. I didn't care much when I was younger. Cooking... playing the fuckin' drums. All shit that would take me away from training to be the number one... but I can't lie..." 

Katsuki sighed, 

"It's not a bad skill to pick up. Especially when dunce face and the rest of the fucking losers, decide they want to eat something I cook for them when their blasted out their fuckin' minds."

He shrugged.

"'Sides. Why go to a fancy ass place, waste fuckin' money, gas, time and have the fuckin' media hound your ass when you can cook the shit yourself?"

And see the way your face lights up when I present it to you.

Katsuki shook his head.

Stupid Eijirou and his dumb romance ideas. Get out of my head!

"Huh. Never took you for a sap Bakugo." You hum, grinning when Katsuki pauses,

"THE FUCK? I'M NOT NO FUCKIN' SAP-"

"Eyes on the stove blondie! Don't want our dinner burning on us! That'd be on you." You poke at his chest, leaning in, your eyes flickering to meet his lips before you flash a grin at his flushed face, stepping out of the kitchen, and into the bathroom.

What the fuck.

What the fuck was that.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT.

Katsuki gripped his shirt, bunching it into a fist as he tried to breathe, his heart throbbing against his ribcage as his other hand reached for the counter, trying to hold himself upright.

He could still feel your warm hand, pressing against his skin. You were so close, he could smell your shampoo and count the blemishes on your face and - shit did you lick your bottom lip too? 

"What the fuck..."

-

"Oi! Stupid! Are you ready? Hurry up before I press play!" You shout from Katsuki's bed. You were curled up in your pajamas, one of his pillows sitting on your lap as you stared at the TV screen in front of you.

"Gimmie five dumbass!" Katsuki shouted from his bathroom.

If you had told yourself three months ago that you'd be sitting in Katsuki Bakugo's bed right now, eating his snacks and curling up with one of his pillows - you would've laughed, spat at your feet and probably cursed your whole family generation - past, present and future for even suggesting something so damn stupid.

But the unofficial "date" you had at the bar with him - it tore something down between you both. Maybe you never really hated him in the first place.

Maybe you said you did because you were scared of telling him that you didn't. You were scared of what he might've said.

You definitely hated that thought.

Regardless, it was obvious that both of you were slowly beginning to open up to each other, the snarky remarks lost their malice and began a sort of... love language? 

Strangely enough.

Gross.

The glaces of hate had dissolved into glances of longing.

Yuck.

He had even held your hand, when you were much too drunk to walk let alone hold yourself up.

Ick.

His palm was warm, slightly calloused. But comforting.

He was comforting.

This shit is so fucking corny [Name]. Snap the fuck out. He's supposed to be your rival. Not your lover.

"You done spacing out?"

You yelped at the sound of his voice.

"Don't just do that!" you shook your head and placed a hand on your chest. 

"Right..." Katsuki snorted, moving to sit next to you. "What did you put on?"

"Scream?" You shrugged as Katsuki reached over to grab a handful of your snacks, ignoring your quiet 'HEY!' as he shoves the food in his mouth.

"A classic." He says, mouth full.

-

"That was fun Bakugo." You smiled as he pulled the door open for you.

"Yea?" He tilts his head to the side and a small smile tugs on his lips. "'M glad... you liked the food too right?"

You hummed, nodding as he helped you out of his car. "We should do that more... only if you want though!" You stammered nervously, a warm flush creeping up your cheeks as you nervously scratched the back of your head.

Katsuki nodded. "Sure... Yea... Okay. Why not."

You nodded walking to your door. "Cool... Cool..." You cough awkwardly and scratch the back of your head. "Thanks for dropping me off Bakugo."

Katsuki nodded, pulling the front door of his car open. "Yea. Sleep well... Or whatever." He mumbled under his breath. 

You pulled your front door open.

Katsuki shoved his key into the ignition.

-

"Chirst Katsuki. Pull yourself together." He groaned, tugging on his ashen blond locks as he shuffled into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

Red eyes scan over his bed, the sheets messy and crumples, wrappers overflowing in the small trashcan next to his bed.

He was going crazy. Maybe he was dying? Is this what it feels like to be dying? Dying at twenty three - would you show up to his funeral? Cry and hold his body? Would you miss him if he was gone? Maybe he was going crazy. 

These are crazy thoughts Katsuki.

“You’re going insane Katsuki. Snap the fuck out of it.”

He let out a groan, sitting on his bed and rubbing his hands over his face. “Fucking hell…” 

Katsuki reached for the pillow you were holding onto the whole night.

Probably smells like them now.

Katsuki paused.

He lifted the pillow up to his face and inhaled. His shoulders dropped and he felt the tension leave his body. Was this creepy? Probably. But damn did he need this. 

He sighed and flopped back in bed, curling up against the pillow.

And, pretending that he was holding you - Katsuki Bakugo fell asleep.

-> Masterlist

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @kalulakunundrum - @sexylexy12 - @rednicotine - @samm1e13 - @kawoala - @neptuneevee - @kodditty - @hecate-frenchfries - @eyesforbkg - @takoyakitakii - @m0nnypie - @katsucookies - @nottherealslimshady - @gethexxed - @bakugouswh0r3 - @katswifey - @ita606 - @jazoewazoe - @cherrii-11 - @risagichi

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

[ryandrawsdoodleandsketches]

slightly different entry subject, still UTDR related.

Art dump of kris as well as a small shitpost doodle

Armor rendering attempt/how I currently draw Kris

sketches I made while trying to figure out how to draw kris.

Kris sketch/initial armor rendering attempt

Deltarune off memory

And now for the end of entry personal-ish diary style yap session (doodle near the end)

First thing, dumb little obscure fact about myself: oddly enough I played Deltarune chapter 1 before I was able to play Undertale.

young me didn't have a working computer or enough money to purchase a copy of Undertale for myself, albeit I was very VERY spoiled on it at the time, so unfortunately I didn't get to have a blind playthrough of Undertale by the time I actually got the game at around 13(?) years old however I good decent year or 2 before, I was still able to have a blind experience playing Deltarune.

I actually still remember that day surprisingly. At the time I since I didn't have a computer still I often played on my PS4 (still have it to this day) and for fun use to browse the demo section of the PlayStation store, because I didn't have money to buy games on there yet ngl.

One day i was doing this and saw Deltarune listed and was just completely surprised for some reason I can't really remember off the top of my head.

I downloaded the game but didn't play it until a few days later when a friend of mine was over for a sleepover.

second dumb obscure fact about myself: deltarune is one of like 3 singleplayer games where my first playthrough of it was a shared experience with someone else.

we played the game to completion that night, although by the time the game was done, I was the only one still awake, sitting on the bench in front of my old room, my friend was in basically a cacoon with how many blankets they had on, it was completely dark both outside and in my room. I had finished the game and was listening to Chapter 1 credits theme "Don't Forget" for the first time.

maybe this sounds a little dumb or cringe or whatever, maybe 11 (?) year old me could probably pin down a reason as to why I felt the way I did or better explain what exactly that feeling was, but I remember tears forming on my face listening to that song, It wasn't sad tears or anything, I was smiling lightly I think.

as far as I can remember it was probably one of the first times beating a game that I could say I distinctly felt something.

that feeling is something I still remember even now, years older, states away from where I used to live, but this memory is still in my with me as clear as day, despite this happening at night.

I have nothing else left to say in regards to that, a memory I will probably cherish forever.

To whoever reads this, I hope your day is well, and continues to be

P.S. just need to get this off my chest real quick, ahem-

I WILL BEAT THAT DAMN JESTER ONE DAY I CAN BET ON THAT!!! 6 YEARS AND I STILL HAVENT BEAT JEVIL, I SWEAR THAT JESTERS ASS IS GRASS NEXT TIME I OPEN THE GAME.

also beat Spamton Neo recently, that was fun.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Stranger: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: When an unsub is killing young women in San Diego, your team is called in before he can rack up the number of victims. He's targeting babysitters and it's your job to figure out why. Meanwhile, Frank ups the pressure on you and Spencer, something that will definitely put a wedge in your relationship.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"Sometimes human places create inhuman monsters." - Stephen King

Spencer has his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you push the bar of the exit door to the theater. The movie is still playing but Penelope made everyone leave due to it being too gory.

"Unnecessary. There's too much blood and gore and eew," Penelope shudders.

"Garcia, it's a slasher film. How do you do a slasher film without violence?" Spencer laughs.

"You imply it."

"Baby, the movie is called 'Slice 6'. What were you expecting?"

"A refreshing beverage with a twist of comedy. I'm gonna have nightmares for a week."

"With everything that we do and see on a daily basis, that got to you?" Ashley asks.

"Listen, newb, you may be all Sigourney Weaver ass-kicking tough, which is awesome, but the mystical mavens of innocence like myself jump at things that go bump in the night."

"Why are you worried? I'm sure that Morgan will protect you," Spencer snickers. "As long as he's not jumping out of his chair like a prepubescent schoolgirl."

"The only reason I jumped is 'cause you guys woke me up," Derek defends himself.

"How could you sleep during that?"

"Easy. You drag me out after a twelve-hour workday for what? Are you telling me that the girl didn't know that the unsub was waiting for her upstairs? Come on, now."

"Villain," Spencer corrects.

"What?"

"In movies, unsubs are called villains."

"My bad," Derek rolls his eyes.

"You want to know why horror movies are so successful?"

"Tell 'em, baby," you grin.

"They prey on our instinctual need to survive. In tribal days, a woman's scream would signal danger and the men would return from hunting to protect their pack. That's why it's always the women and not the men who fall victim to the bogeyman."

"Count on you, Reid, to break a movie down to science," Penelope laughs.

"My favorite thing about horror movies is the suspense factor," Ashley says. "The helpless victim walks through the dark... Shadows reaching out to get her. A sudden noise draws her attention. Is someone there, or is it just in her head?"

"Still, it's totally unrealistic. No one should be walking through a dark alley by themselves at night."

"Ahem," Derek clears his throat. "Hello?"

"Sorry. No one should be walking through a dark alley without a Derek Morgan by their side," she grins and pulls him into her side.

"The best part of a horror movie... You never know when the end is gonna come."

"So, when is the wedding?" Penelope asks.

You and Spencer look at each other, and he smiles. "I don't know. We're really in no rush to get it done, and we just want it to be perfect. We are having it at a botanical garden. There's a beautiful one right here in Virginia so you don't have to travel far for it."

"Let me know if you want some pointers on the honeymoon," Derek grins.

"I'll be sure to come to you," Spencer laughs.

"Whenever you decide to do it, I'm planning your bachelorette party. I already told JJ I'm taking that one," Penelope says.

"Alright, it's yours," you grin.

In the morning, you arrive at work with Spencer and see Rossi on his way to the briefing room.

"How was your weekend?" he asks you two.

"We went to see 'Slice 6' with Derek, Penelope, and Ashley. Pen made us leave early. She claimed it was too gory."

"It was a good movie, and it's hard to find slasher movies that are good these days," Spencer says. "What we didn't see coming is the slicer's brother was in the closet."

"Frightening," Rossi chuckles.

"His betrayal consumed him and he sent his brother to his own private hell."

You pass by Hotch's office and see Strauss in there talking to him. Spencer and Rossi notice her, too, but you continue to the briefing room instead of hanging out outside the office.

"Speaking of horror," Rossi mutters.

"What is Strauss doing here?"

"Whatever it is, I cast my vote on 'not good'," Penelope says.

Seconds later, Hotch comes into the briefing room giving no indication on his face of what the meeting was about.

"Let's get started."

"Okay," Penelope clears her throat. "Monica Shanley, Natalie Wallace, and Amber Lasko were three college students who were killed in their off-campus apartments in the last five days. Two were going to San Diego Coastal University, and one was going to San Diego Tech."

Pictures of the three girls are put onto the screen, and you immediately notice a similarity between them.

"The unsub definitely has a type. They could all be related," you say.

"They're all in their early twenties, brunette, and majoring in education and/or child development."

"Is there any indication that they knew one another?" Ashley asks.

"As it stands right now, I'm coming up empty. Their apartments were spread throughout the city, and no fingerprints were at the crime scene. The unsub must have used gloves."

"He's organized."

"There was forced entry at all the apartments at the back door, patio door, and living room window. The homes were wrecked. That's a clear evidence of a struggle. He's creating a scene. He wants to inflict fear not only in his victim but in whoever finds the body."

"It could be a message to the local PD. 'Look what I can do.'"

"He's killed three women in under a week. In all likelihood, he's hunting for his fourth victim now. San Diego PD wants us on the scene as soon as possible."

You don't waste time in getting to the jet. As soon as everyone is on, the pilot takes off.

"Our unsub has a type and a temper. Amber was getting ready for her bath. It would have been an easy target for a sexual assault, but none came. That's highly unusual behavior for this kind of unsub."

"Extreme violence in physical aggression is in its nature sexual," Spencer explains.

"That's true, but as a substitution for the sex act. This guy could be impotent. He can't perform so that's why he goes all out for the kill."

"If he's targeting female college students, we need to make sure that campus officials are informed if they haven't been already. We also can't rule out other students and faculty," Hotch says.

"You know, San Diego's essentially one big college town, with an enrollment at SDCU of approximately sixty-five thousand students. San Diego County has nine universities, five private and four public. We add seven more if we're including trade schools," Spencer says.

"Each girl lived off-campus and was attacked in their apartment. That's pretty high risk. It's less risky if he's stalking them in advance like running layouts and routines."

"Between classes and part-time jobs, they'd be home sporadically at best which tells us they're not victims of opportunity. He targets them, then stalks them to know where they live and when they're gonna be alone."

"Morgan, you, Y/N, and Reid go to the last victim's apartment. Seaver, interview the roommate. Dave and I will go to the medical examiner's office."

All three victims have defensive wounds on their arms which means they put up a fight. With each new victim, the stab wounds increase. On Monica, the wounds show hesitation as if the unsub has never done this before or he felt remorse. She also had a fatal blow directly to the heart.

The unsub might have gotten lucky with her.

By the time he gets to the third kill, he's more experienced and he knows what he's doing. The cuts are more direct, and Amber died from massive blood loss. He made the struggle last longer with her because he wanted her to suffer.

Now, he's starting to enjoy it.

The only place to park for Amber's apartment is a parking garage behind the building, so Derek pulls into it as soon as you three left the airport. This place being unsecured means anyone with a car can access it. That doesn't narrow down your list of suspects. You three get out and start walking to her building.

"This isn't secure parking," Derek comments.

"I rode a bike when I was in college."

"Baby, you weren't old enough to drive," you chuckle.

"I could drive. It's just that the government wouldn't issue me a license until I was fourteen." He looks around the parking garage. "There's a lot of places for the unsub to hide out here."

"Yeah, he could have easily grabbed her when she passed through here."

"Yet she made it all the way to her apartment where she should feel safe, but then he took that from her." You walk inside her apartment and meet with the detective on the case. "Hi, I'm Agent Y/N and they are Agent Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid."

"I'm Detective Bryce Harding. Amber's roommate, Michelle, told us she was out of town visiting family when the attack occurred."

"The unsub must have known that. That's why he made his move last night."

"He jimmied the lock on the window," the detective says and shows you the broken window.

"I guess he needed the privacy to complete the torture."

"Well, most sadists like to kill on their own turf. This guy didn't risk taking her to a secondary location."

You stand in the corner of the room overlooking the rest of the apartment. You connect with her energy rather than the unsub's to paint you a pretty picture of what happened. When you open your eyes, you're brought to last night. The front door opens and Amber walks in, having just come from the gun. She looks sweaty and wearing workout clothes. She has headphones in, and you follow her to her bedroom which is connected to her bathroom.

She walks into her bathroom and turns the tub on to get the water to warm up while you assume she will start to undress for her bath or shower. While the tub is running, she walks back into her bedroom. Instead of watching her, you walk back into the living room to see the unsub already at the window. Much like you assume, he jimmies the lock before it breaks, and he slides the window up. He slips inside without alerting Amber, which you know she still has her headphones in.

You can't see what he looks like because he wears a stark white mask, hiding from people like you.

The unsub searches through her apartment first, not like he's looking for anything specific, just to see what she has. You walk back into the bedroom to see Amber just about to light a candle. That's when she notices the unsub's shadow on the ground through her open bedroom door. She walks slowly into the living room and screams when she sees the unsub. 

He takes off running toward her, and she books it back into her bedroom. She doesn't have time to close the bedroom door but she does try to close the bathroom door on him. You slip inside the bathroom right before she can close it so you're in the bathroom with her. The unsub tries pushing it open and reaching through the slit, but she's strong. She slams the bathroom door closed and locks it but it doesn't keep the unsub out. 

He busts the door open and she falls back into the bathtub in shock, taking the curtains down with her. He jumps on top of her and stabs her repeatedly. She tried to put up a fight. You have to give her that.

"Y/N?" You snap out of the trance and notice you've made your way into the bloody bathtub. You turn to see Derek and Spencer at the doorway. "Maybe something happened which makes the location of the kill significant. Look. That's something new. He's smearing blood on the walls, exhibiting more control and rage over his victims, taking pleasure in the kill."

"What's with the specific physical type?" Detective Harding asks.

"It looks like he's taking his anger out on women who represent someone he knows."

"Yeah, like Edmund Kemper," Spencer agrees. "He most likely can't confront his true target yet, so he's going after women who look like her until he can build up the confidence to complete his endgame."

Amber had a lot of friends who cared about her, especially her roommate who had been friends with her since the third grade. Amber wasn't the type of girl to go out. She loved spending time to herself inside the safety of her apartment. Michelle had a hard time trying to get her out because Amber worked her ass off. She didn't have time for trivial things like college parties.

She needed the money so she was working odd jobs like dog walking or horse sitting or proofreading. She'd get those odd jobs from coffee houses, Craiglist, or the student center. Anywhere that had a bulletin board people can post on. That means just about anyone could have noticed her and decided to stalk her.

x

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[astray-arlo]

Alright who’s ready for hell? I sure am!! It’s chaos.

Guess what. Yeah we’re hearing my thoughts again uh because I’m sleep deprived which will make it far worse!! Yawnnn I feel like theirs blood in my mouth. Anywho it’s fucking freezing in this room. I’m listening to my playlist made for this time of night. It’s quite nice. No one noticed by the Marias is playing MY ARMS KEEP MAKING WIERD NOUSES WHEN I TYPE- ahem so the Marias I do like! I love cariño >< oml Spanish nicknames are so much cuter than English ones. That’s an entire thing. 30 minutes until 6 AM wowww. I haven’t done an all nighter in a while. Hm strange! It is quite fun I suppose though. Somewhere in the universe has to be one of my favorite songs in the whole wide world by the pity party girls. I have an absolute connection with that song. Music makes me wanna scream in the most unhealthy but healthiest way possible. I am just a freak </3 love that song too. Oml someone shove a metal pipe down my throat to stay quiet about music. @vixxy-izzy keeps moving in her sleep @gh0st-punk might as well be dead. So boring *sigh* grrrrrrr. Flowers are delicate and soft, but some have thorns and are hard to get past. Every flower deserves a person but not every person deserves a flower. Like dogs, all dogs deserve an owner. But not all people deserve dogs. I don’t like dogs but I do at the same time. did you know borzais are taller then me on their back legs. Which in theory means borzois are also taller then Sabrina Carpenter. Now that is a silly thought to me. It hasn’t even hit the ten minute mark and I’ve written this much!? Often I am upset that I cannot fall in love- are you tired of me yet? I know you probably won’t ever get tired of me. It’s a bit baffling to me is all, but I believe her. A giraffe was freed yesterday :) I’m happy for the giraffe. Why does Alex G keep playing I swear I never had this much songs of his. Ugh headaches are my best friend! We love them. I am completely deranged yes I know! My name is pink and I’m really glad to meet you. I’m so confused we’ve been talking every day for like a month how are you not annoyed at me yet I’m genuinely curious. Curiosity kills the cat- HEY WAIT A MINUTE IS PLAYING. WE STAND WILLOW ON THIS BLOG!!! *sigh* I miss her. Bro I sound ridiculous I’m now realizing that, like Arlo you sound absolutely ridiculous. I wanna watch twilight (again) chronic obsession I actually need to finish the second book. That’s something I should do over summer. I’m supposed to draw- I draw like once a month or once every month there is no in between. I read month as moth. Moths are so cute gotta love them. Just like bats! Oh hey 4 minutes until it’s 6 AM I am going strong with this one. WILL MY HAND FUCKING WAKE UP! I hate the feeling of it. I can slowly start to see the sun it’s very very light but it’s showing up there is more light in this dark ass room now. I should like probably go to sleep after this. I dunno. Uhm why did it reload? Now some of my lovely writing wasn’t saved. My finger tips feel weird turns out I needed more blood circulation in them :P she was a fox while I was a hound. I love that poem of mine. Just wait until songbirds and dogs becomes one. I have a lot of plans for more poems. Just need to get around to doing them. Why do I have 133 followers. That’s like too much more than I planned on getting. Goodness gracious I talk a lot. I’m sleepy but don’t particularly want to go to sleep not yet at least. It’s getting brighter in here. Tv girl is playing. You know where to find me, and I know where to look. I’m not even spiraling this is just genuinely what it’s like in my mind but like 10x worse plus that by 3 then times it by 55 again!

IT JUST DELETED ALL MY WORK FROM GHIS POINT SO ON FUCK TAHG FUCK THIS FUCK EVERYTHING THAT JUST MADE ME MAD

GOOD NIGHT ALFRED!

[toptierteaser]

Tubby Guy on the Treadmill

"Woah! Oh, come on man! This is so embarrassing! Fuck, dude! C'mon! You know I can't run on that thing!"

You whimper as the Coach prods you up onto the treadmill, digging his sturdy poking stick into your plump, juicy love handle.

"Well," sneers the coach, alternating from your love handle on the left to the one on your right. You stifle a squeal as the sensation of wood being pressed into your sensitive flesh flusters you further. "You should have thought about that before you stuffed your fat fucking face, shouldn't you, porker?"

You can only whimper as he pokes you forward, as you waddle, feeling your plumped-up body rebelling against your tight, restricting clothes. Your t-has already come untucked, your ass wide, threatening to bust straight out of your tight, Camp-issued running shorts. As you waddle forward, each cheek rises and falls with a shuddering quiver, driving your tight briefs farther up between your massive butt cheeks. You resist the urge to pick your wedgie, knowing it will only draw more ridicule from the handsome, fit handler who herds you along. But the feeling of yourself getting closer to busting every shred of fabric, the tightness wedged up every crevice and between every roll has begun to drive you mad!

You arrive, fat and chubby as you look forward onto the treadmill. How much have you packed on since your arrival at the Camp? Fifty pounds? One hundred? An embarrassing amount, there's no arguing that! The coach gives your waistband a tug, signaling for you to stop and you oblige.

"Welcome, Camper!" says a booming, masculine voice from above. Another Coach, no doubt. Another fit, handsome jock who looks down on you like a tubby sack of blubber. You blush as you hear the taunting in his voice, the smile audible over the speaker. "Well, it seems that it's been a while since you've taken to one of these...been skipping out during workouts, have we?" Your plump bottom lip drops in embarrassment, but before you can muster up the courage to answer, the voice continues. "No matter. Today's exercise is merely a...measurement of sorts...an estimate of your stamina. Does that make sense, big boy?"

You nod, though the voice certainly hasn't answered every question reeling in your mind.

"Very good. You'll find this exercise to be much easier the more agreeable you are. Now, please mount the treadmill.” The Coach gives your fat ass a sharp prod and you waddle forward, planting first one heavy foot onto the floor of the treadmill and then another. You find some difficulty mounting properly, your wide hips and juicy love handles getting caught on the armrests.

“Oh my…does our Camper there need some butter to help him squeeze in?”

Spurned on by the thought of the Coach behind you excitedly rubbing your exposed chub as you helplessly attempt to wriggle your lardy ass onto the treadmill before an entire panel of Coaches, you manage to wriggle through, belly wobbling ridiculously as you finally make it. You swear you can hear a sharp ‘BWOMP’ as your juicy ass snaps through behind you and your cheeks turn crimson!

“Well fatty—I mean, camper—I trust you know how a treadmill works?”

You nod.

“Very good. Though, of course it doesn’t look like it. Now, your expectations are as follows. You will be tasked with a simple jog. A measurement of your endurance. Everything will be recorded and documented, from your breathing to your…ahem…body movements. The large red button before you…” you look noticing the impossible-to-miss red button directly in front of your face. “…is for tapping out…only when you simply cannot continue to waddle—I mean run—any further! Is that understood?”

Again you nod.

“Very good. The punishment for tapping out early is severe…” you don’t know what that could possibly entail, but you know it’s nothing good. “Oh, one more thing,” says the disembodied voice. You hear a sharp clack sound from above and watch as something descends above your head. “You will also be incentivized here to continue your jogging for as long as possible…so we have included some…treats…to entice you. As the item descends, you notice a cheeseburger tied to a string dangling right before your eyes. about a few feet above, tied to the same string, is a donut…and above that, a cupcake! Your pulse quickens in helpless excitement as you spot some of your favorite treats dangling above!

“Does that look sufficient to you, big boy?” says the voice. You simply look dumbly at the long string of the dozens of snacks ready for you to consume. “Excellent.” Says the voice. “Now, let us begin. We’ll start slow.” You hear a distinct clank and feel the treadmill begin to move beneath your feet. Instinctively, you step forward, towards the burger that dangles tantalizingly out of reach. You will have to earn it, you know that! But they aren’t making you waddle too fast just yet! You can do this! You waddle forward, feeling your cheeks jiggle behind you like separate, massive entities, your belly rising and falling with every step, your love handles shaking funnily at your sides. Everything is chubby, everything plump. You become more flustered as you feel your thighs rubbing, your elbows pushing up against your love handles as you waddle forward. You can feel the eyes of the Coach behind you, fixated on your widened body. You must look ridiculous, blubbing out of your workout clothes like a pig! Chasing a cheeseburger on a string! And next a donut! And next a cupcake! You can hear the snickering over the loudspeaker, the stifled laughing of the Coach behind you. But as you become consumed with the waddling and the jiggling and the rubbing, the ever-present promise of the cheeseburger that gets a millimeter closer with every step, you are left with little room to consider anything else but the promise of food and the sheer embarrassment of being a butterball on a treadmill…

[symphonic-scream]

Did I ever post about my JJK Persona au? A JJK as Persona AU?

If I didn't, well, here it is

JJK Persona AU

It's not fully based on one game more than the other, but the Dungeon mechanic is based on P4, with a more modern and Tokyo based overworld like P5, but. Timeline and boss escalation are kinda P3?

That's. I can discuss that if anyone is actually interested let's just get into the gang, with their arcana and shit

So our Fool, it's Yuuji Itadori. After the death of his grandfather, he's moved into a "temporary" foster with a salary man named Nanami Kento, starts at this small school halfway up the mountain, and he's warned, hella warned to come right home after school

He. Forgets. And maybe swallows a tarot card.

That's how his wildcard aspect works. He finds more tarot as he and his party delve deeper into the "memory zone" beneath their school, only accessible through a twisted mirror. However, on full moons, when stronger shadows crawl up to the highest floors and risk escape, he can't summon his persona

Instead, when he tries, he gets a special status. And instead of his persona, he summons the Big Bad, Sukuna, who controls his actions and sometimes attacks his teammates

Anyways. Let's talk about the others

To enter the mirror world, they have to accept their "memoric self", which is. My fancy way of saying their most hidden innermost self, like their false mask dissolves. Typically this isn't a smooth thing

In the case of the first party member, Nobara Kugisaki, she heard music drawing her closer. She convinces Yuuji and Megumi Fushiguro to come with her, back to school, at night and check it out. And she lifts the sheet off the mirror and freezes

What she sees isn't her perfectly crafted image. It's not even her "minor" rage issues. It's herself, arms and legs strapped down to a chair or something. Restrained. Uh and after that uh. Heavy "repressed lesbian" vibes. Inner Nobara is a bit of a perv??

It's about even how she's free from the country, she's still letting that ideology hold her back. Like she's not *ashamed* of being gay but,, she remembers the comments when she considers hitting on someone. Or tried to reciprocate the flirting of that hot ass second year

And she has to face that part of her and gets her persona and has to recover, and ahem maybe kisses a girl-

But her arcana is the Empress!

She lives in school accommodations. Tiny dorm apartment. The faculty in charge is Akari Nitta

I don't have those mirror plans for the others but I have their like, situations!

Megumi is living with his adopted dad and teacher, Gojo Satoru. Gojo finds the trio the morning after their first full moon and tells them the deals. Cause he and his friends dealt with it before and "held off" Sukuna, losing his old love in the process

Megumi is the Moon Arcana, and Gojo is a social link, the Tower

Joining the team next is Megumi's cousin and Nobara's girlfriend, Maki [Redacted]. Last name change is pending. She and her sister have been in foster care for years, but were never totally healthy. Long story short, Mai needs a new kidney at some point and Maki gives her one. Mai is still sickly and a little immuno-compromised, and Maki- she ends up type 1 diabetic and

Two sick kids in foster care? That's a doomed situation. They know it. Mai's been mad about Maki giving her that kidney since. Okay anyways Megumi asks Gojo to adopt his cousins and Gojo has a Better Idea

Anyways. Maki and Mai's moms are Shoko Ieiri and Utahime Iori. Maki plans to take Shoko's surname and Mai is taking Utahime's

Okay sorry sorry Maki is Strength and Mai is a social link, the Devil. Utahime isn't a social link as of now, but Shoko is Death

Next teammate is Toge Inumaki, Hanged Man. Then it's a second year nicknamed "Panda", he's the Chariot

Their final teammate is Yuuta Okkotsu. The Lovers.

Some others I have are Miwa, Sun, and Momo, Star. Aoi Todo is the Magician, and I'll think of more for later?

Incase I didn't say it Nanami is the Hierophant.

But Tokyo and Kyoto students are at the same school but different classes (1A vs 1B)

--

ANYWAYS YEAH IF YOU HAVE IDEAS AND SHIT HIT ME UP I WANNA MAKE THIS A BETTER THING, MORE FILLED OUT

I only have some more minor bits, like with Maki and Mai, and the GFs.

[mjonthetrack]

vice queen II

Chapter 100 – “Y’all Didn’t Even Invite Nobody?!”

The conference room was chaos.

Jimmy was posted up with his arms crossed, trying not to laugh too hard. Camille sat next to him, four months pregnant and already plotting some type of revenge. Lo was mid-rant pacing by the whiteboard. Jey kept spinning in a damn chair like a big-ass kid.

Courtney sat on the table like she was on the throne. Heels crossed, black nails tapping on her thigh, and Maya in her lap drawing hearts on a folder marked “Alvarez Debrief.”

Zilla? Leaned against the wall behind her. Chain out. Hoodie on. Whole posture screaming “say something slick, I dare you.”

“Lemme get this straight,” Camille started, calm but dangerous, “Y’all got married. Like...legally.”

“Yes.” Courtney sipped her pineapple juice.

“At the courthouse.” Camille’s voice went up an octave.

“Yes.” Courtney licked her glossed lips. “Jacksonville. Judge was cool as hell.”

“And nobody got an invite?” Lo threw her hands up. “I’ve been helping y’all cook people, and I didn’t even get a damn cupcake?!”

Courtney rolled her eyes and pulled a laminated 8.5x11 sheet from her Louis tote. She smacked it on the table like a UNO reverse card. “I got copies, okay? The state of Florida signed off. It’s legit. Peep the seal.”

Everyone leaned in. Yep. There it was. Zilla’s signature all sharp and slanted. Courtney’s looking like it was written in lip gloss.

“Bih… you laminated it?” Camille blinked.

“I’m organized.” She shrugged. “I work logistics.”

Zilla finally spoke, voice low and dismissive, “That fairy tale shit? That was Jimmy and Camille’s wedding. All white. The violinist. Fancy ass chairs.”

He looked around the room slowly, face completely unbothered.

“We real thugs,” he said, arm dropping onto Courtney’s shoulder. “We got blood to spill.”

Maya nodded like a tiny hype woman. “That’s right. We thug married!”

Lo choked on her drink.

Jimmy smirked. “So that’s what we callin it now? ‘Thug married’? Y’all ain’t even give me a heads up. I was gon throw y’all a barbecue at least.”

“Yeah well,” Zilla’s eyes were sharp under his lashes, “we was too busy dealin with the Alvarez fuck-up and me patching my wife up from takin bullets to protect the empire, remember?”

Silence.

Camille cleared her throat and raised her brows at Jimmy like: You heard what he said.

“Point made,” Jimmy murmured.

Courtney smirked, brushing her fingers through Maya’s curls. “Besides, we ain’t gotta do what y’all do. We are what y’all do. You needed a fairy tale. I needed a partner. Now I got him. On paper, in blood, and by choice. That’s real.”

Zilla bent low and kissed the side of her head, real subtle-like.

“Tell ‘em again, Mrs. Fatu.”

Courtney looked dead at Lo and Camille. “Bet y’all still wanna throw a party though.”

Lo: “Bitch, don’t play, I already got the Pinterest board.”

Camille, shaking her head: “Y’all so ghetto it’s almost poetic.”

Jimmy: “Almost.”

Everyone laughed, but one thing was dead serious now: Zilla and Courtney weren’t just together. They were solid. Official. Dangerous. And completely, unapologetically theirs.

Chapter 102 – “Thug Life Wedding Party”

The war room was in full swing—maps out, tablets glowing, encrypted calls bouncing through the speaker, and Camille already three bites into a mango cup while reviewing westside traffic reports.

But all of that came to a full, dead halt when little Maya Fatu marched into the room with her pink glitter backpack on and a masterpiece of chaos and crayons in her hand.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat like she paid rent, “I need everybody to stop for a second. This is important.”

Courtney, still adjusting her healed hip with a side-eye to Zilla for walking too damn fast, blinked. “Baby…what’s up?”

Maya climbed right up on the closest chair, slapped her coloring book page onto the war table like it was an FBI dossier, and grinned.

“I drew our wedding,” she declared, chin tilted like she knew she ate.

Everyone leaned in and collectively lost their minds.

Lo choked. “Is that Camille with a Glock and a baby bump?”

“It’s accurate,” Maya said proudly. “She’s holdin’ both her babies.”

Camille put a hand to her chest. “Aww, sweetie—wait why I got red eyes?”

“I wanted to show that you kill people fast.”

Zilla was already laughing, arms crossed, shaking his head. “She got Jimmy in Timbs, look—yo, is that smoke coming off my vest?”

Maya nodded hard. “You were fightin’ somebody who called Mommy a ‘distraction.’”

Courtney looked at the picture, squinting. “And what am I doin’, baby?”

“You’re standin’ on top of a car in heels with your gun and yellin’ at everyone to respect your family,” Maya said, like that wasn’t the most normal wedding image ever. “And I drew my dress sparkly pink with flames because I’m part of the empire too.”

“She put the whole bunker in the background,” Jey said, flipping the page like it was official art. “With Peach’s lil ass sittin’ there with a crown.”

Courtney leaned over and kissed the side of Maya’s head. “You really snapped with this one, mama. You captured the moment.”

Maya turned to Jimmy. “Can we put it on the wall with the security maps? I used the good markers.”

Jimmy glanced at Camille, who was already sniffling. “We’ll laminate it and put it right by the West Tenth route. That spot got your mommy’s name on it anyway.”

Lo gave a little salute. “She already better at strategic propaganda than half y’all grown-ass men.”

Zilla reached out and tugged Maya onto his lap, folding her close against his chest. “You know this the best wedding present I ever got, right?”

“I know,” she said casually, sipping her juice. “You didn’t even get Mommy a wedding dress, so I had to do something nice.”

Courtney just cackled, leaning into Zilla’s side. “Dragged you without mercy.”

“I married you in black diamonds, woman,” he muttered, kissing the top of Maya’s head.

“And I married a man who lets his daughter publicly slander him,” she shot back, smirking.

Maya looked between them and sighed, content and powerful in her little kingdom.

“Okay,” she said, “you guys can go back to business now. I just needed y’all to see who’s really in charge.”

Nobody argued.

Chapter 103 – “Still Us, Just Married Now”

The house was finally quiet.

Peaches was curled up in her luxury-ass donut bed. Maya had passed out halfway through her animated movie marathon, her favorite blanket wrapped around her like a burrito. And the war room? Silent. Shut down for the night.

Courtney stood barefoot in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of lemon water with that fresh scar on her hip peeking out from under her oversized tee. The dim under-lighting glowed off the counters, casting her in soft warmth—real domestic vibes, except she still had a Glock tucked in the cabinet behind her vitamins.

Zilla watched from the doorway, arms folded across his chest, that lazy grin on his lips as he took her in like he’d never seen her before.

“You really Mrs. Fatu now, huh?” he murmured, voice all gravel and mischief.

Courtney turned around, one brow lifting, sipping slow. “You say that like I wasn’t already actin’ like it.”

He stepped forward, hand brushing across her waist. “You was. But now you can’t run.”

Courtney smirked. “Wouldn’t even try.”

They stood there like that—just a married problem set, fresh off a courthouse high and still smelling like commitment and crime. Zilla leaned back against the island and pulled her between his legs gently, hands resting low on her hips.

“So… how’s it feel?” he asked, voice low. “Real talk. You good with this?”

Courtney snorted. “Z, I got a vest that don’t cover my ass and a twelve gauge in the trunk. If I was scared of commitment, I’d be long gone.”

He chuckled, pulling her closer.

“But you?” she asked, tilting her chin to look up at him. “You the one who woke up talkin’ bout ‘Let’s get married’ outta nowhere, didn’t even ask me with a ring.”

“I had a ring,” Zilla said, grinning. “You just kept scarin’ off my proposal moments. You over here patchin’ bullet wounds and makin’ supply runs, how I’m supposed to be romantic?”

Courtney softened, brushing her fingers over the tattoos across his chest where his shirt hung open. “You serious about this, right? This wasn’t some heat-of-the-moment, post-shootout adrenaline decision?”

Zilla held her gaze. No blink. No smile. Just that intense, ride-or-die stare only he could pull off.

“I’m more sure about you than I been about anything in my life,” he said. “Courtney, you ain’t just some woman I married. You mine. You the one that showed up, stayed, took Maya like she came from you. I don’t care how quick it was—our story started way before paperwork.”

Courtney swallowed hard, leaning in. “You already knew I was gone for you, huh?”

Zilla smirked again. “You show it every time you cock that twelve gauge for me.”

She laughed, resting her forehead on his chest. “You so stupid.”

“But I’m yours,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “Married or not, you always had me.”

Her arms looped around his waist, pulling him close. They stood there for a long moment, not needing words, just breathing each other in.

Finally, she looked up again. “So… do we gotta like… do married people shit now?”

Zilla tilted his head. “Like what? File taxes together? Buy matching hoodies?”

Courtney: “I was thinking more like hide bodies better and make wills.”

Zilla: “I already got our aliases and an emergency bag stashed under the estate.”

Courtney, grinning: “See, and that’s why I married your crazy ass.”

Chapter 104 – “Party in the War Room”

It was a Saturday night and the war room smelled like smoked brisket, top-shelf liquor, and danger.

They tried to say it was a wedding party.

Zilla and Courtney? They were calling it what it was: “an excuse for everybody to show up in black and talk business while acting like it’s a celebration.”

Still, the big-ass screens were muted for once, showing surveillance feeds in the background. The long steel table was covered in catered trays of oxtail, empanadas, fried lobster tails, and sweet Henny-glazed wings. There was even a tiered cake shaped like a black duffel bag stuffed with fondant cash stacks and sugar-glazed bullets. Classy.

Jimmy and Camille arrived first—Camille in a black bodycon that hugged her four-month belly, her nails and lips both a rich oxblood red. She side-eyed Zilla immediately.

“You really got married and didn’t tell us?” she asked, holding her belly like it had an opinion too.

Zilla leaned on the edge of the conference table, wearing his black silk button-down wide open and his platinum wedding band glinting as he smirked. “Y’all was busy nesting. We was busy healing. Ain’t nobody got time for white doves and rose petals when Court just survived a hit.”

Courtney sauntered in behind him in black leather pants and a cut-out crop top, walking like her hip wasn’t stitched up. Her wedding rings shined under the fluorescents, and Peaches was in a little white tutu that read “Flower Pup” in blood red.

“Besides,” she said, taking her seat in Zilla’s lap like she was the prize at the end of a long war, “y’all actin’ real shocked for people who knew we been locked in.”

Marissa and Sefa rolled in next—Marissa with a blunt behind her ear and a mini flamethrower of a lighter, Sefa carrying enough tequila for everyone to forget their trauma for a few hours. Jey and Ariel were last, dripped in matte black fits and unbothered, already scheming in whispers.

“So this it?” Jey asked, lifting his glass. “The Fatu Enforcer and his Queenpin tied the knot in secret and now we in the damn bunker throwin’ rice over duffle bags?”

Jimmy laughed, “You know damn well they weren’t gonna do that reception hall fairytale shit.”

Courtney flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Ain’t a single white tablecloth in sight and I’m at peace.”

Zilla added, “Plus we still got names to cross off. Y’all forgot who shot my wife?”

The room quieted, then Camille stood up and clinked her glass with a pen.

“Alright, thugs,” she said. “To Z and Court. Married, dangerous, and apparently still about that smoke even with rings on. Let’s toast now and make revenge plans later.”

Courtney raised her drink, her free hand holding Zilla’s.

“To real love,” she said. “The kind that don’t need a wedding planner or a DJ.”

Zilla raised his cup too. “And to blood. Because we got some to spill, and now I got a wife to protect while I do it.”

The table broke into cheers, clinks, and heavy laughter. But that war map on the screen? Still glowed behind them, red circles blinking over West and Tenth.

This was a wedding party for two people who survived being targets—and were now ready to be the hunters again.

Chapter 105 — “She Said What??”

The war room was lit up—literally and figuratively. Six screens. All the major players online.

Camille and Jimmy were in their command center, Camille swaying on her birthing ball while Jimmy had his arms crossed tight. Jey and Ariel were both looking like they were ready to throw down. Sefa and Marissa were on the move, watching the call from a bulletproof Benz.

The final screen clicked on.

Courtney.

Vest strapped tight, hair in a slick bun, fresh bruises peeking beneath her collar. She had her 12 gauge balanced across her lap like it was nothing. The glow from the Hummer headlights lit her from behind, casting a war goddess shadow behind her.

Zilla was behind her in the bed of the Hummer, reloading clips, his face carved from stone. Smoke rose off a fire pit they made out of a barrel. There were bricks of powder on the ground still smoldering.

“Y’all hear me?” she asked casually, checking her AirPods.

“Yeah, yeah we hear you,” Jimmy said, already sounding exasperated. “Y’all left a trail of bodies from the pier to 9th street. The hell goin’ on out there?”

Courtney chewed on her gum, still calm. “Just a little housekeeping. Tying up loose ends.”

Camille frowned. “Court, you okay? You moving kinda—slow.”

Marissa tilted her head. “Your face is fuller. You sick or something?”

Courtney grinned. Looked straight at the camera. Didn’t even blink.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m pregnant.”

Dead. Silence.

The air in the war room evaporated.

Zilla—who was mid-load with a fresh clip—froze. Clip in one hand. Glock in the other. He blinked once. Then again. Looked up like he wasn’t sure he heard her right.

“...What?”

Courtney, cool as hell: “I said I’m pregnant.”

Zilla’s whole posture shifted. “Court… the fuck you mean you pregnant?”

Jimmy’s eyes popped. “WAIT YOU DIDN’T KNOW?”

Jey spit out his drink. “NAH YO. YO—SHE DROPPED THAT SHIT LIKE AN AD LIB!”

Camille was already crying. “OH MY GOD THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER—WAIT—ZILLA YOU REALLY DIDN’T KNOW?”

Courtney side-eyed him and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t gimme that look. I found out a week ago. We been busy.”

Zilla stepped off the Hummer like gravity didn’t apply to him. He walked up slow, face unreadable, Glock forgotten in one hand. Everyone on the call was yelling—Marissa screaming “CONGRATULATIONS”, Jimmy demanding an explanation, Ariel yelling “OH MY GOD YOU GONNA BE A DAD TWICE???”

But Zilla only had eyes for her.

“You really carrying mine?” His voice low. Almost soft.

She nodded. “Yeah. You good, Z?”

Zilla reached out, hand heavy and warm as it curled around her stomach like it was made to live there.

Courtney swallowed, for once the one looking unsure.

But then Zilla pulled her in with his free arm and kissed her forehead, breath shaky.

“I ain’t know I could feel more than what I already feel for you and Maya,” he muttered against her skin. “You done turned me into a whole husband and a full time dad.”

Then, without looking away from her, he tilted his chin toward the iPad on the crate.

“Y’all heard my wife,” he said darkly. “Anybody who had anything to do with that warehouse hit—dead. Pregnant or not, we ain’t stoppin’ till we clean the board.”

Jimmy let out a long breath. “You gonna be a whole two time dad.”

Zilla smirked. “Yeah. And this one already got a kill count.”

Courtney, wicked grin growing: “You love it.”

He kissed her lips, hand still on her stomach. “You damn right I do.”

[mostspecialgirl]

beast tower.

[next]

oc rambling under the cut

I ATE THIS SHIT UP !!!!!!!!

ahem. Sorry. I meant. I think i did a good service to iris’s team. or, i guess, Novekhrys’s team, but WE KNOW WHO’S PULLING THE WEIGHT AROUND HERE !!!!!

okay. There’s actually a bit i want to say about cementing these designs.

Gráinne was an easy design to nail. i’ve wanted her to be loosely sparkledog scene adjacent from the get. and that’s what i did. i dunno if i’m satisfied with her color scheme but she canonically dyes her hair something completely different every so often like ramona flowers so it’s cool to just. Have this for now. i’ve been dying to use that pinterest hairstyle i saw a few weeks back and i finally got a nice opportunity to use it. also i gave her a name. she’s gráinne now. because i used to want to call her diarmuid. any fenian cycle fans in the chat

IRIS!!!! she’s the same as last time i drew her properly BUT like Oh My GOD she looks pretty here i was blown away by my own ability. iris is like. one of my first relicverse oc’s to be made in mind with the fact that the Relicverse Is A Thing so she’s always sort of been a benchmark character for me even moreso than demi or any of the sinai have been. i’m glad to have fully assembled a picture of her leg of ninestrike today seeing as i’ve been teetering back and forth on who exactly should lead it, and who’s fitting for her to serve under. novekhrys should have been the obvious choice from the start and i have no idea how i never saw it

like, are you seeing this???

and MY GOD. this is one of those times SETTING 1000 LOOSE THREADS pays the FUCK off because i needed one more admin and OBVIOUSLY it ONLY MAKES SENSE for it to be Kumbhakarna, seeing as Ravana has long been serving under Novekhrys (shoutouts to ravana i dont draw him enough but hes genuinely one of my favorites to write) and the two of them have always gone through cyclical incarnation hell together. i can’t break up the band. AND. Because of course, Ravana’s contract with Novekhrys making him into the Nameless Asura… That means Kumbhakarna must also have entered a similar deal. but i can’t call them both the nameless asura! sure, i can call him the nameless rakshasa instead BUT !!! BUT !!! I HAVE BEEN IN NEED OF CHARACTERS WHO HAVE INHERITED THE ROMAN GOD TITLES POST-DEVILS MANNER !!! and so, of course, he is MORS!!!!! why is that? of course, because of kumbhakarna’s curse… and because of the Somnus Title… what does that mean for Somnus…? Only time shall tell !!!!! Kuahahahahaha !!!!!!

lastly. of course. novekhrys ainzbury. demiurge’s son-in-law. husband of astaphe and father of lucille. I’M EVER SO GLAD TO BE ABLE TO START LOOPING HIM BACK INTO RELEVANT LORE!!!!!!!!!

I FUCKING LOVE THIS MAN!!!!! I’VE EVEN REINSTATED HIS STATUS AS A DRAGON!!!!!! FUCK IT!!!!!!! GIVE HIM THE WORLD!!!!!!!!

previously, in novekhrys’s lore, he existed at a time where magic was a very contentious existence for me in relicverse lore. and if i’m really coming down to it, he was technically the first proper magic user. it completely slipped my mind until literally like a few weeks ago that i realized he’s a tower master within the mage society. i often find myself forgetting astaphe exists, much like everyone seems to forget about the much less powerful children of the demiurge. But voila. my problem was solved. who better for iris to work under?and obviously, who better to be the much needed FREAK of the unraveling division than the FREAK tower master of the beast tower, the very man who fucked demiurge’s only daughter and had a child with her.

letting the pieces slide together was the most satisfying shit in the world. This is why i write. I live for these moments where all my loose threads come together. Good lord. Good fucking lord. And good god man does him being the beast tower master ever serve as such a great rational support to ravana’s existence. I KNOW my ass was not thinking about that at all back then. But like. Fuck yeah dude.

i tried to base his design off of demonic sect leaders in those cultivation novels combined with his draconic origins and it all worked together nicely. he looks better than ever! or maybehe just has long hair. I love long haired men. And horns. He’s lost a little of his signature “pathetic disheveled shell of a man” but i’ll be sure to draw plenty of that when he ISNT posted up for a beauty shot with his admins.

ALSO. holy HELL has his relationship with hana slotted in PERFECTLY. she’s always received funding from an unnamed tower master, and of fucking COURSE having it be novekhyrs the disciple hunter would only make sense. she’s a rare deviant species. his FAVORITE. and it’s never really made too much sense why hana would ever take any particular interest in expanding her leg of ninestrike and joining the union BUT IT ONLY MAKES SENSE IF IT WAS NOVEKHRYS WHO DRAGGED HER INTO IT. bringing in the Small Rewrite that the beast tower was built upon the remains of Hermes’s NinthSpire, and with enough bullshit backstory on the fly lore drawing inspiration between the old lore links between him and Father and BOOM!!!! he’s got his own ninestrike invitation with absolutely zero conflicting changes to established lore!!!! Oh my god and this is why hana takes the name of ninestrike as her own after novekhrys tells her about the history of the science tower

AND i get to write him again. It’s like christmas morning for me. This is nonsense to you all but this is PURE genius at work. This is why you leave everything 85% done because the remaining 15% will come to save your ass in the future. God Bless the Mage Society !!! Long live the Phenomena White Tower !!!

okayi. Have to sleep now. Seriousky. Im insnae

I have to do eight more drawings in this style cor eaxh division now

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 9

The new prosthetic is damn near perfect. The correct fit, the right length, material that doesn't chafe or clunk weirdly on the floor, takes some getting used to. And Lasko still tries to draw attention away from it. But it helps a lot.

He trains daily to keep his mind and body sharp, physical therapy combined with general exercises and the drills that he would run in the military. It gives him a sense of structure and normalcy that his days at the castle, while pleasant, lack. He works slower when his leg pains him, but never skips a day, and before long, he's as quick as he was before the bomb.

He trains in his bedroom, or the garden when the weather is nice. Sometimes, curious staff will gather to watch, oohing or cheering or asking questions he's happy to answer. Occasionally, Gavin will visit, voice soft but expression intense. Lasko is a little nervous then, in a way he normally isn't during drills. He doesn't mind Gavin's eyes on him (at all), and he's confident in his skill, but unaccustomed to "putting on a show."

"Just pretend I'm not here," Gavin would tease, as though such a thing were possible. Lasko tries, but Gavin's gaze and intermittent comments make him warm. It's obvious even to Lasko that Gavin is paying more attention to Lasko's body than what he's doing with it. He doesn't think about it, though. Not until he's very, very alone, and has quadruple-checked that he's not accidentally broadcasting to Gavin.

He has plenty of practice ignoring thoughts and feelings and urges and gorgeous men. Pushing it down or refocusing it into energy for training.

One day, Gavin asks to join him.

"Join me in...combat training?"

"Yes," Gavin says brightly. "I think there's a lot I could learn from you. Maybe we can even spar." Lasko chews his lip.

"Respectfully...you'd kick my ass." Gavin laughs.

"Don't be so sure! I haven't done much fighting." Lasko sighs.

"Maybe not. But you're still a demon. And despite my training, I'm still human." Lasko looks away, and Gavin frowns, considering.

"How about this," he says, opening his palms to Lasko. "No magic. That will do away with most of whatever natural advantage I might have." Lasko still hesitates.

"Why?"

"Why what, Precious?" Lasko flushes.

"Why do you want to train with me? Surely your time could be better spent elsewhere..."

"Because I like you, Lasko." Lasko looks up sharply to see Gavin looking calm and serious. "I like spending time with you, and learning about you." He smirks a little. "And the orgies will still be there later." Lasko sputters.

"Wh--o-orgies--"

"Do you have an extra practice sword, or do I need to make one?"

"I, ahem, I-I have one."

"Wonderful," Gavin smiles, reaching up to pet Lasko's cheek. "Let me know when you're ready."

So they start training together. Not every day, just on occasion. It's nice to spend more time with Gavin, and to have another person to work with again. Gavin really has no formal combat experience, but he learns quickly, and they start stringing sparring sessions together with library visits or shopping trips or time spent curled up in one or the other bed, talking quietly with faces close together.

Lasko wants to kiss him. Wants to do more than kiss him.

And Gavin would probably be receptive, if the way he lets his eyes and hands wander is any indication.

But Lasko doesn't want it to be just physical.

And he's afraid that, as much as they like each other (as much as he thinks Gavin likes him,) sex would just be sex, like it always had been before. Something fun and pleasurable that doesn't mean anything beyond that.

He buries his face in his hands and groans. Who does he think he is?

He doesn't have the right to expect more from anyone, much less a king. Gavin is smart and kind and handsome and powerful, the ruler of a great nation of people who adore him. He could--and does--have his choice of partners. If he wants more than sex, it would be simple enough to choose someone better than Lasko. Someone better at relationships. Someone whose body and spirit are whole, not broken.

His life in Deciderium is already so much better than it could be, than he thought it would be. Rather than being used and abused, he's treated like a person, given care and respect and the opportunity to learn and grow and make friends. He has made friends.

Why does he think he could have more?

The military was something he could control, to a degree. He could train and study and work and fight and make a difference in his life and the lives of others. It was the only thing he had really done without someone else telling him to pursue it first. General Moore was so much of his identity for so long that even after months away, he still isn't sure who he is beyond that.

Whoever he is is in love with Deciderium and its people and its king.

Tears burn his eyes at the realization, but instead of wiping them away, he just stares at the ceiling and lets them fall. What is he doing?

A knock at his door startles him into sitting up. He and Gavin had made plans.

"C-come in," he calls. Gavin steps into the room, and the smile drops off his face.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, sitting on the bed and taking Lasko's face in his hand. Lasko just shakes his head miserably. "Come here," Gavin murmurs, and Lasko goes easily into Gavin's tight hug. "It's alright. I've got you. You're okay."

He's not, but Gavin saying so makes him feel a little better.

"Do you want to stay in today?"

He nods.

"Okay. Scoot over, I'm gonna cuddle you."

He does, and Gavin wriggles under the covers with Lasko, wrapping him in his arms and resting Lasko's head on his chest, where he strokes his hair and back soothingly.

"Thank you," Lasko whispers, tangling his fingers in the back of Gavin's shirt. He's so tired.

"You're welcome, Dearest," Gavin replies. "Rest. I won't leave you."

Warm and safe in Gavin's arms, lulled by his steady heartbeat, Lasko falls asleep. And Gavin is still there when he wakes.

Chapter Management

[mcjickson]

TAKE ME TO CHURCH

I've said it before, but it's worth saying again: You raise your kids to be independent, and then they are. And then, of course, there you are. And this is particularly on my mind today because it's Declan's 19th birthday.

I should be missing him because he's off at Iowa finishing up a banner freshman year where he entirely came into his own, but instead I'm missing him because he just finished up the semester at his mom's house, one tiny mile and one enormous pandemic away.

You can't blame me for wanting him around past the point where he should want to hang out with his dad. He always arrives with an avalanche of great songs I need to hear and never would be exposed to without him. He'll play the absolute nerdiest of board games with me without judgment, and talks glorious smack the entire time. I get to cook for him, which is nice is because he really appreciates it, and frankly it's nice to be needed. But the best part is that he's the funniest fucking person I've ever met.

About this time last year, he burst into my bedroom around four in the morning. "Dad, the police are here." I"ll admit it, people, my first thought was oh-no-what-the-hell-did-you-do?, but thankfully I kept that to myself. I jumped out of bed, and walked to the front door, making a mental note of seeing a baseball bat on the couch in the living room. As it turned out, our boneheaded roommate had not only left her car unlocked, but left her wallet in the side door. The police had found her credit cards and other i.d. strewn across lawns up and down the block, and wanted to know if we had seen anything. When it was clear I could offer nothing of value, I went back inside to check on Declan. I picked up the bat on the way to his bedroom.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

I held the bat up for consideration. "Um, what exactly were you going to do with this?"

He laughed. "I saw the police lights, but I wasn't taking any chances." I laughed.

"Better question, then: Instead of going to the door, why didn't you just come get me?"

"Dad," he smirked, "I'm the alpha."

I laughed so hard I literally teared up. He was proud of it, as he should have been. He clearly had it chambered before I entered the room.

The other reason I've been missing him is decidedly more selfish, but just as dear to me.

My biggest goal when I decided to salvage this wreck of a husk was to be able to play basketball again. And nobody's pushed me in that department like Deke has. In punishing games of 1-on-1, he has absolutely worked me. He's a lanky, graceful southpaw with a lightning-quick first step and an unholy terror of a three-point shot. Since I have to respect the jumper, I have to play him close, but since he's so fast, I have to kill myself to stay with him.

I win sometimes. He probably lets me. I'm ok with it.

Because the most important thing for me when we play is for him to see how hard I want to go. To see that I would rather be in pain that have him see me half-assing the efforts to stick around and discover the kind of man he's going to become. And frankly, it wouldn't just be disrespectful to him, but to basketball, which I've always considered my church. The court's always been a sacred place to me; a place to clear my head, to get caught up in blissed-out devotion to raining jumpers and perfecting free throws.

Oddly enough, that's the first nickname he brought home from Iowa: Church. Evidently that's what he answers to out there. He tried to tell me the origin story, but the details were murky in the best kind of i-guess-you-had-to-be-there way. What I found particularly endearing was that he wasn't aware of the slang usage of the term, in which it's a one-word affirmation of something cool.

It makes sense for him, though, because that's been Declan's key to drawing great people into his orbit. He affirms his friends incessantly and sincerely, and you can see they love him for it. He had an, ahem, informal gathering here over the holidays, and my favorite part of the night was when I heard all of them singing in unison in the basement. To their credit, no one in that crowd is too cool for school, either. They cycled through belting out Skynyrd as hard as Post Malone, Abba as enthusiastically as Blackbear. It was glorious. It was like having pure joy pumped into the vents. It also wasn't the first time Deke's called to mind those lyrics from the Counting Crows' Mr. Jones, another song they went hard in the paint on:

when everybody loves you, son, that's just about as funky as you can be

And everyone really does love him. He's the glue. There are so many reasons I'm beyond proud of him, but more often that not the ones I admire the most are the ones it took me way longer to figure out on my own.

It took me half a lifetime to realize what he somehow gleaned in his teens. That if you can really put yourself out there, and put your energy into making other people feel seen for who they really are, and celebrate the things you love about them in ways they can feel, then everything else is gravy. Good things will come to you.

Happy birthday, Church. You make me so happy to be alive for longer than I expected. I don’t know if either of us will ever be famous, but in the only way that really matters, Mr. Jones and me are gonna be big stars.

[null-doesnothing]

I hope you dont mind but since you've left spaces open for sulu, scotty, uhura, and chapel I figured I'd step in with my own like a nerd

Sulu: dont have any specific sexuality or gender headcanons for the guy but he's gotta be some flavor of queer I fear. used to love going to beaches as a kid and cant stand it anymore, listens to a weirdly varied amount of music genres (like you'd look in his playlist and find top 20 pop list type music and the most niche shit you have EVER heard of. also some shit Chekov snuck in there that he decided he didn't care enough abt to get rid of) also probably the type of guy to just have the One playlist and its just his liked songs and everyone who looks at it is like "dude wtf IS this". he has no explanation. Next to Spock, he's the most heat-resistant of the group, though unlike Spock he actually handles humidity fairly well (cant relate im from the desert I would drown) Oh also you cant tell him shit cuz he's a major gossip sorry

Scotty: probably unlabeled honestly if I had to guess, I don't think he would care too much abt it... or think too much abt it.... busy w/ da ship. honestly this is barely a headcanon but the mf just loves feeling impressive at any given moment. about anything. ever. Also has definitely fallen asleep while working on something and almost wrecked his whole face. oh also he probably had a cat at some point in time that would sit on him as he slept and one night he accidentally like. threw it off in his sleep. and he felt really bad about it. dont ask how I know it was written in the stars shsshhh

Uhura: either lesbian or bi, personally I lean towards lesbian for her. can draw!! really well actually!! does it in her free time and sort of keeps them to herself, I think if she met Data they'd bond over the little art adventures going on there. Also she can only hypothetically cook. like- she knows what needs to go into a dish, and how to make it taste good, and she could instruct someone on what to do? but as soon as she actually physically tries to make a dish just. 🔥 uhhh has a collection of ancient (lol) cassette tapes that she Can Not Play because she couldn't find a working cassette player. Scotty's ended up working on making one as a side project

Chapel: lesbian. that is a lesbian woman with comphet. absolutely. 100%. has some betazoid in her but not enough to show At All (though to be fair, not much to show up anyways. also this is my watsonian explanation for Lwaxana having her exact face, though tbf ig like it could be the other way around but SSSHHHH) and was also raised on Mars for some of her childhood. oh also has just the most insane Bullshit Detector ever, it's very very difficult to get a lie past her. as a child her hair was brunette and got more blonde over time, but her hair in tos is dyed to give it a different tone. also this one goes against canon but ACTUALLY WEARS GLOVES IN SICK BAY AND GETS ANNOYED WHEN BONES DOESNT

ahem- now, I'm going to be very self-indulgent for a moment and, instead of just leaving it there, I'm going to attack one more character with my headcanons because he's my FAVE and NOBODY EVER MAKES HEADCANONS FOR HIM so uhhh. that's my thing rn I'm hijacking your post a bit

Sarek (I love him sm I'm sorry): as a little boy he was probably one of the least well behaved, most rambunctious, and emotional children on the whole of Vulcan, and for the most part was just generally a pain in his parent's asses for a long long time. eventually he became the hyper-strict unemotional logical vulcan he is now, but he definitely wasn't always that way, had to be drilled into him. that's feeds into my headcanon for why he treats Spock the way he does, there's slight fear at him acting human but generally, his fear leans more towards Spock ending up like he was as a child. totally incorrect fear my guy but hey idk what do I know. oh also I think you can't ever show him star wars because he would see Anakin's storyline and have a heart attack spontaneously. OH OH ALSO- this one ISNT a headcanon but I-Chaya was HIS pet first! the headcanon here comes in that I firmly believe when he was like. 6. he picked up little tiny baby I-Chaya and was like "im keeping it. mine now." like a child adopting a stray cat off the street and their parents begrudgingly accepting it.

sorry that's way longer than the other guys' I think abt him a lot

favourite star trek headcanons?

Oh boy I have ALOT hehe (thank you so much for asking :3) (and these are just my silly headcanons and it's totally find if you disagree with them <3)

Id like to hear your favourite headcanons @etherealspacejelly :3

Kirk: Hes trans and pansexual (or bi I like both), that bitch loves to vouge its his favourite dance move hehe, kept the boob window shirt from amok time and wears it just to annoy Spock, is Jewish, (this one is more for AOS kirk but whatever) He LOVES 90s and early 2000s rap and hip hop such as the Beastie Boys.

Spock: Jewish on his mums side, is gay MLM or unlabelled (I like both hc), really likes ambient music and falls asleep to it and white noise.

Bones: Is bisexual (yeah no, no character in TOS is straight sorry) loveeees to sing country songs when no one is around or can hear him even while on duty (Kirk definitely caught him once singing and teased the living fuck out of him), he loves to wear low raise jeans (old man whore), he has anger problems, a chronic smoker (yes yes he's a doctor but come on...he needs to let off some steam man) loves old country music especially from 20th century Earth, a massive fan of Dolly Parton and sings her songs regularly (his singing voice isn't actually that bad either, quite soothing but slightly deep)

Chekov: bi-curious (NO SLAVIC PERSON IS TRULY STRAIGHT...coming from a slav hehe) weed smoker so he probably smells like kush 50% of the time, is eastern orthodox (religion wise) he absolutely adores late 20th century (80s-90s) Russian Post-Punk such as Кино and Nautilus Pompillus, he also listens to Bladee and the drain gang in general (idk man he just seems like the average drainer/Bladee fan) also uses She/Him pronouns...(or that's just me projecting myself onto him)

...yeah you can CLEARLY see which characters are my favorites hehe (also I didn't put on hc for sulu scotty uhura or chapel since I barely have any)

[eros-fixx]

❥• sounds from the bedroom [18+ only]

⇢ devilman crybaby edition

what akira + ryo sound like in bed with you

AKIRA FUDO 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—shit!”

Lots of snarls and grunts, cursing. Akira sounds downright animalistic in the bedroom, that if you’re passing by unaware, you’d be hard-pressed to believe that’s a human making those sounds…

If his orgasm is particularly strong, he’ll roar too. It’s hard to keep him quiet. Investing in a gag for him might be a smart idea.

There are moments where the old Akira appears. Sometimes he’s sweet and hesitant, asking if this feels okay, if you need something—water, a break, or a pillow under your back. But other times he’s full on feral. Filthy-mouthed, he holds nothing back, describing in detail what you feel like clenching around his cock, how just the thought of being buried inside you has made him hard all day, how badly he wants to fuck you until his name is all you can remember to say, etc.

“I know you’ve been wanting this. Don’t deny it. You’re practically squirming under my tongue. Ah—shit, was that too much?”

Also the sounds of your coupling. Akira definitely, ahem, can make anything slick with just how much he cums. The smack of his hips against your ass, the loud, lewd squelch of each thrust of his cock displacing his cum inside you.

He’s also much more likely to confess while his cock is buried inside you. It might be strange, but for Akira, ravenous lust goes hand-in-hand with deep, adoring love.

“Fuck—I think I—I really—l-love you...!”

But afterwards, he kind of needs that reassurance that you feel the same. Like he’s just accidentally bared his heart to you. He needs to know if it’s reciprocated.

(“Hey, about what I said. Yeah. Just ignore... oh. You feel the same? That—that’s great! That makes me so… happy.)

But back to horny. Akira does horny so well.

“You’re so tight. It’s like your pussy was made for me.”

He has lots of fantasies surrounding you, and he’s not afraid to describe them in explicit detail. Voicing them aloud is a big part of foreplay for him.

“Heh... don’t tell me you’re done already. I’ve been waiting so longto do this...”

“Gonna... fucking... c-cum!”

“You look so cute with my cock in your mouth. but you know what would look even cuter on you?” His voice lowers. “My cum overflowing from your mouth.”

He’s also prone to saying dirty things while jerking off, especially if he knows he has an audience. If it’s just him, alone, he’ll curse and grunt, calling out your name every now and then as his hand works furiously over his length. His groans of your name progressively getting louder until he shouts it, pleasure wracking his body. But if you’re watching? Oh, he puts on a show. He’s cockier, more intentional with his hands drifting down his body before he grasps himself. He describes, hoarsely, how badly he wants it to be your mouth instead of his hand, how he’s hard and aching and ready to be enveloped in your tight, wet heat—

“Fuck... you know just what I like...! You’re too much, I’m gonna finish—”

Post-coital, Akira gets kind of quiet. He likes to bask in the moment, in the intimacy of it all. He prefers physical contact, so he speaks more with his actions, drawing you close to him, playing with your hair, listening to you ramble with the softest look on his face.

(But also—snoring. He snores so damn loud. Sex takes a lot out of him.)

RYO ASUKA

Ryo is quiet. When he’s jerking it, he barely makes a sound. He sees it as a form of release, so he doesn’t bother taking his time. Soft exhales, the most sound he makes is sigh once he finishes.

“I know you’re watching me. Why don’t you come in if you’re so curious.”

He has a detached manner of speaking that continues into the bedroom. It can be incredibly arousing if you’re into degradation or aloof partners. The way his voice never wavers, never giving a hint as to if he’s enjoying things, even while his cock is buried in the tight heat of your throat, can be a turn-on.

If anything, he’s more curious about what noises he can get youto make. He makes it his personal mission to document every kind of sound you can make. 

“Oh that? I bought it online. It has good reviews and several interesting features. I’d like to observe how it works on you.”

Expect lots of toys. Vibrators, dildos, fuck machines, etc. There’s always some interesting noises coming from his bedroom, like buzzing, or the sound of machinery at work, mingled with your cries. Akira has learned the hard way not to go snooping behind Ryo’s closed doors.

Ryo’s not into sexting. He knows there’s appeal behind naughty pictures and messages, but he doesn’t care for them. If you really want him to get dirty talking, it has to be over phone. He likes being able to pick apart your reactions.

“I did like that picture you sent me. But I’d prefer to see it up close. Come over in five. I think it would be to both our benefits.”

His aloofness can somehow make anything sound like a dirty promise. It leaves you in a state of constant anticipation, wondering just when Ryo is going to make good on his promise.

Video sex though. Ryo finds something appealing about the way the technology can add a layer of distance, and he can be more of an observer. He likes to command you, in his calm and measured tone, to strip for him, to spread your legs for him, and touch yourself the way he would. Sometimes when he’s too busy with work, he’ll multitask; if he hears your cries of pleasure stop, even for a second, he’ll turn his attention away from his work to ask why you’re holding back on him.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I? Keep going. I’m not done with work yet, but rest assured—when I am, you’ll have my undivided attention.”

Professor/student roleplay. Ryo is very good at making you feel like his hopelessly incompetent student. The way his eyes coolly glance over you, before dismissing you as not even worth his time. He also is good at making you work for it.

“You call this an essay? Pathetic. Your grades are dismal. You’ll have to do some extra credit assignments for me after class. Oh, and don’t wear anything to them. You won’t need your clothes.”

The only way to really get him to lose it and be vocal is to take control from him. Ryo isn’t expecting it, and he sure as hell doesn’t like it, at all, but there are moments—maybe Akira’s rejected him for Miki again, and despite his posturing, he actually does feel shunned and lonely—that maybe he’ll let you dominate him. The way his orgasm rushes over him in a flurry is a surefire way to get him to choke out a groan, his face aflush, eyes wide. Ryo… still doesn’t appreciate bottoming, but perhaps he’ll allow you the opportunity to try it. One more time.

“Wait. Don’t—Don’t stop. I… I didn’t think it would feel like this. Keep going. U-Until I say you can stop.”

[restlesscrybaby]

Okay before I start I just wanna say that I love your work!! Now onto the request during your wonderful obsessive headcannons for Jack he would watch the reader through his orb and it was his lucky day when he saw them *ahem* masturbate. Could you possibly write what would happen if the reader slipped Jack's name out while they shamelessly touched themself? Again I love your work!!! ❤

THANK YOU SOO MUCH!! I'm so glad yall love my writings so much!!

And oh my god this idea

~ JACK HORNER OBSESSIVE/YANDERE HEADCANONS. ~

~ PART 2: THE ELECTRIC BOOGALOO. AKA, NAME SLIP. ~

~ CONTENT WARNING : SMUT,

~ SMUT CONTAINS : Masturbation, name moaning. ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh how he loved watching you. Every action. Every step. Every yawn, every blink, every stretch, every dance, every drawing, every pottery, every crocheting, every sewing, everything. No matter your hobby, he loved it. No matter the situation he loved it.

Of course, when he's feeling himself, his favorite is when you undress. Whether it be to shower, whether it be to get dressed in something new, whether it be to get a nice bubble bath, whether it be to even just slip on a swim suit righr over every bare inch of flesh.

However.

His all time favorite when he was Horny Horner (tm) was when you masturbated.

Oh, God how he adored how you felt yourself...

Oh, he adored every last bit of it. How you rubbed that little center, that ached and practically hollered for the pleasure that it so desired. Oh, how the slick seeped out your entrance, trickling ever so much down your ass, upon your bed, that created a tiny puddle beneath you. Oh, God, how you fondled your chest, your breasts squeezed in your own hand, desperate to feel the increase of pleasure that made you chase that orgasm even more. Your back arching up.. The way your head reared back, your teeth gritting as you let out desperate gasps. Your brows furrowing, how desperately you needed that orgasm.

( MALE READER! ) Oh, he adored every last bit of it. How you rubbed from the base to the tip, that practically screamed and ached for more and more. Oh, and how your precum slipped from the little center of your tip, dripping down the shaft of your cock. Oh god, how you stroked yourself, starting off so slow, practically taunting yourself to make your orgasm stronger. Oh, don't even let him begin with how your back arched. How your head reared back... How your teeth grit together, exasperated gasps escaping from between your teeth as you chased the orgasm that rised in your tinted pink cock.

... Of course,

He couldn't help but feel himself through his leather pants, using his palm to rub at the bulge that caused his pants to feel much tighter. He would pop off a button on his trousers, soon popping off another. He would slip those pants down, just enough, his tongue ready to slip out his mouth as he let his boxers breathe, now out of those pants. He would have the orb cushion upon his desk, resting it down upon the little cushion that sank only a little under its weight. He would hook his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down to free the erection that dripped mercilessly with precum. To watch. To enjoy. To indulge in every inch of flesh that showed in that little fog of you in the orb.

One day, he angrily stormed into his office.

Terrible pies, workers messing up, no one seemed to even be trying, this and this and THAT! Oh, the worst part? You called out SICK.

SICK?

BAH! YOU SHOULD'VE CAME TO WORK!!

He opened the door to his office angrily, as his heels cracked against the mahogany boards that lined up to make his floor. He stomped, practically shaking the floor every time he walked. He plopped himself down in his chair, as he leaned back. The, needlessly tacky but not to him, stain glass mural shined brightly into the room. He put a palm over his eyes, as he undid the neck scarf that adorned his suit, easily slipping it off with a sigh.

...

He could check the ball.

You wouldn't be doing anything bad. Right? He knew you better.

I mean, he kinda had too.

He needed to know what you were doing, what you liked, what you enjoyed, he needed to know it all.

He stood back up, as he set his necktie up onto his desk, as one end of it dangled off the desk, halfway ready to fall off. He walked towards the shelf that adorned the pink crystal that has helped him so far along the way..

He slid it into the palm of his hand, as the other reached and took the cushion. He walked back to that chair that he loved so much, specially made for him and he sat himself down. He dropped the cushion onto the desk, as it fell with a sad fwomp sound. He placed the crystal ball so gently upon the cushion, so it would hold the play just right, where he wouldn't need to hold it.

Of course, what did he request. To see you, duh.

The sickening pink hue morphed together, creating a sickening mix of colors that looked like an artists nightmare, but it soon cleared...

Ohhh...

He smirked, that evil smirk that showed his beautiful crooked teeth. His top teeth snatched ahold of his bottom lip, pulling the lip in before releasing it. ... You weren't sick..

You felt yourself, your body trembling, practically with joy to relax in a better kind of way. Your juices were seeping from the entrance that was just ready for him to slip in.

( MALE READER. ) You felt yourself, your body trembling, practically with joy to relax in a better kind of way. Your juices seeping from the entrance that was letting you know how ready you were. Almost begging him to fuck you.

Oh my god. He felt his pants get tighter, feeling a distinct twitch eroding from his cock. As he began to pop off the buttons on them. One, by one, with a satisfying pop sound.

Your legs convulsed, as your head reared back. Your other hand grabbed the sheets, as your body trembled. Oh god. You were really into it, huh?

He slid his pants to his ankles, as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, letting his hard erection free itself for air. Precum gently dripped from it, as he wrapped a hand around his shaft, right at the base.

You mumbled something, as he listened closer. He wondered what you said, but he couldn't care. Well, he could, what if it was some random guys name? Bah. But, he lifted his hand up, reaching the tip, in a long, tedious stroke of the hand.

".. Oh.. Jack..~," You shamelessly purred out, your legs convulsing as you fantasied about your boss. Bending you over the desk, fucking you like a power hungry animal...

He stopped.

Whay was that.

You did it again, with a sultry giggle after...

Oh my god.

His tongue hung out his mouth, drool threatened to spill out his mouth and oh it did. He couldn't help himself. In the rush of adrenaline, he shot himself up out of his chair.

His strokes now short but quick, feeling his own cock throb as you fantasized about him. All those things he wanted to do to you...

Oh god.

He bottomed out, his groans animalistic and desperate, a few little whines escaped from between his lips, in the need for more. More. More. It was like he could see you infront of him now.

His own fantasies practically slamming into his brain as lust took over his body, with a pulsing shiver down his spine.

Over the desk, against the wall, oh god against the window for all to see, making people watch, showing who you belonged too, in the carriage, in the kitchen, in his bedroom, in the shower,

Oh god oh god oh god.

Need.

Want.

Need.

Want.

More.

...

Soon, in a sudden rush of adrenaline, he chased the orgasm that began to rise up in his cock... He couldn't even help himself. His strokes becoming sloppy, needy, more, want more.

Drool dripped out of his mouth, as he practically bucked his hips into his own hand.

Your hips bucked intonyour own hand. Chasing the orgasm that was building inside of you.

"S-- SAY it--," He hissed, desperate, a strained tone to his voice, "Say my name-- holyshit-- Please--"

"JAaackk!" You drooled out, like a madman.

He hissed, a sudden tidal wave crashing into him like he was in a storm, cum splurging out onto his desk, some even daring to hit the crystal ball. Guess he underestimated how close it was.

You cried out, a sudden tidal wave crashing into you like you were in a storm, your own cum splurging out of you, onto your bed ( or hand for male readers ). Your body trembling as you rode out your own high.

...

Holy shit.

He sat and stared, his eyes wide and huge. Oh my god.

A smile loomed onto his face.

You...

You liked him.

All of this wasn't for nothing...

The one magic he wants.

Your love.

It was HIS.

His mind began to scream at him;

ALL OF IT.

HE NEEDED ALL OF IT.

HIS.

HIS.

NOBODY ELSESSSS!!

~~~~~~~~

Rushed due to a storm omg why are many of these now rushed eepy

I'm gonna write a second part I love this idea so much.

Enjoy!

[silentmoths]

🌊 - hehehe me slipping into your asks as an anon-

but anyway, how would zhongli and diluc deal with an s/o who is the embodiment of "haha, i'm a gremlin with gremlin ass attitude who cracks all sorts of jokes but wait a second a lot of them are kind of self deprecating and whoops it turns out that on the inside i am very sad and i want comfort hugs and cuddles and i use humor as a coping mechanism to make myself and the people around me feel a little happier because god forbid i feel like shit under all this and the least i can do is act as a la comic relief."

( and ahem, since i'm a degenerate, some comforting or angsty nsfw to accompany it because i'm a sucker for comfort or angsty nsfw with feelings and shit- )

and no, i am not projecting myself again absolutely not stop looking at me like that-

ooooohohohohohooo lessgo!

Featuring: Diluc & Zhongli + Afab Reader

Hurt/comfort/smut smut, body worship, soft diluc, posessive zhongli.

Diluc Ragnivindr

🔥 He picks up on it pretty quickly, but it actually takes him longer than he'd care to admit to realise it was a coping mechanism.

🔥 Notices it properly one drizzly day as he stops by the shop you work at right as you're finishing up, you'd dropped a bag of grain and it had a sustained a slight tear in the side, making a bit of a mess.

🔥 alot of 'ah that's just my luck eh? fuckn' dumbass' and 'there goes all my damn brain cells all over the damn floor, ah well'

🔥 He does not like it, not one bit.

🔥 What really draws the line for him is when he tells you you're beautiful on the way home, an honest, heartfelt compliment, and your immediate response is to grin at him and tell him that you think he may need to get his eyes checked, you're medium ugly at the most.

🔥 It's all down hill from there. He grabs you by the wrist and all but drags you back to the winery, your protests and questions go unheard as he blows past his maids and up the stairs into his bedroom with you in tow.

🔥 It starts as a 'sit down and let me lecture you' moment, with his arms crossed as he grumpily explains that you're not stupid, not any of the horrible things you say about yourself as a 'joke' and he certainly does not need his eyes checked.

🔥 His grumpy lecture comes to a stuttering halt however the moment the first tears fall. oh fuck, oh fuck he made you cry- shit fuck goddamn it that wasn't what he'd wanted at all.

🔥 His tactics are quickly thrown to the wind as he clambers into bed with you, pulls you into his lap. Peppering your face and neck with kisses between hushed apologies and affectionate compliments.

🔥 Things only seem to go downhill from there. Running his hands over every part of you and telling you why he loves that part.

🔥 Hands? sure they're not baby-soft, and they have a few scars, but to him that's proof of hard work, something he can appreciate and respect more than some little doll who sits up and is waited on hand and foot all day.

🔥 Hair? always soft, it's one of his favorite things to play with, you're the only one who know's just how skilled diluc is at braiding, because he absolutely refuses to do it to anyone elses hair.

🔥 Face? Eyes? gods he could stare at your face all day and never grow tired, could drown in your eyes and die a happy man.

🔥 Despite what you say about yourself, he think's you're supremely smart, calculating and strategic when you need to be, kind and charismatic when the moment calls for it.

🔥 Thats when he starts getting handsy, roaming along your body proper, murmuring about how much he loves every inch, how he'd happily worship you like a goddamn archon. He very much enjoys how flustered you get.

🔥 yeah, worship is exactly what he devolves into like the horny little degenerate he can be at times. Hands are replaced with hot mouth as soon as he shimmies you from your clothes and presses you into the sheets.

🔥 mans is relentless, if you think so little of yourself then obviously you need to be overwhelmed in all the right ways. You're stuck on the verge of overstimulation before any sort of actual intercourse happens.

🔥 When he's fucking you however, he's teasing, keeping you right on the cusp of that one fucking orgasm, but never letting you spill over, not until you nearly scream in frustration and admit that he's right about everything.

🔥 Even then? man's doesn't push you over that edge until you promise to think a little more highly of yourself, lest this become a repeat treatment.

🔥Plenty of snugs and smooches afterwards as he lovingly cleans you up, helps you sip down some water and runs you a lovely warm bath, aftercare is important, kids.

Zhongli

🔸 He picks up on the self deprication immediately, and it confuses him. He's never come across this kind of humor before, especially not used so liberally.

🔸 At first, he simply observes silently, the way you so casually call yourself an idiot when you make a mistake, or a human garbage disposal when you apparently eat too quickly or too much...he does not like it, not one bit.

🔸 Such blatant disregard for yourself when he finds you so very appealing is... angering to him. Not angry at you however, angry that the world has somehow beat you down to the point where your only coping mechanism was to insult yourself and laugh, as if you'd joined the unseeable crowd that had done this to you.

🔸He takes his approach to the situation...a little differently. Appearing in all his draconic, godly glory in your dreams. Wrapping you in his long, scaly coils. You did not yet know that the man you knew as Zhongli was actually the Archon of Geo, though if he had it his way, this title would not be for much longer.

🔸 He watches as his little love gawks at him, purring with delight.

🔸 Radiant, it was his favorite word to describe you as. He tells you as much, though his dragon form is unable to physically form words, he can still vocalise directly into your head, even going as far as to push his very emotions for you into your being as well. Perhaps if you could know just how the lord of geo saw you, you might just believe it true?

🔸Seems the dream however, only left you in a state of confusion, sitting up in bed, scratching your head. When he asks what the matter was, you at the very least are honest and explain what you'd seen, what Rex Lapis had said and how you didn't understand where that had come from. 🔸"Raidiant you say? Well I'm inclined to agree with him, darling." He chuckles, pulling you down into a languid kiss "Though I do hope he knows that, god or not, your radiance is mine to bask in."

🔸 Ah yes, what a lovely shade of red that turns you, it's one of his favorite things about you. What he's not expecting is the sudden shyness as you pull away. 🔸 "but...Im not all that though.." you mumble into his chest "I barely understand why you want me around, let alone why rex-fucking-lapis himself think's im cool" 🔸And there it is again, that anger burning in his gut, an ugly, monster that rears it's disgusting head and has him pushing you into the sheets, pinning you by the shoulders.

🔸 "I'll admit darling, I do not understand how you can view yourself so lowly." He grumbles, taking your chin between thumb and forefinger "You are kind and smart and witty and funny and so, so beautiful... yet you insist on the opposite and have the audacity to laugh!" his words make you shrink back into the pillows a little, not enjoying being called out like this, but being unable to escape.

🔸"I-I...it's just a joke zhongli..." the look he gives you tells you he doesn't buy that for a second.

🔸 "I may have accepted that the first time, dear, but it's become constant, and even though you laugh at it, I see the hurt in your eyes...why are you intent on hurting yourself this way?"

🔸 When you don't answer, he tilts his head, regarding you with an unreadable look for a long moment, before leaning forward to nose his way up your throat "Perhaps you've just not been shown how lovely you truly are? I can most certainly help with that."

🔸 The moment he'd gone for the throat you knew you were in for a long night, but boy howdy did you miscalculate how long a long night was going to be.

🔸 You're used to Zhongli handling you like glass, but you really must have snapped something in him, because he leaves so many bite marks and bruises along your skin (all in places easily hidden by clothes, the man was posessive but not an asshole)

🔸The teasing though, oh my god the teasing. one moment his touch is feather light, making you twitch and whimper, and then he's brusingly rough, muttering something about 'you can't think horrible thoughts about yourself if you cannot think about anything but pleasure.'

🔸 He's absolutely cruel, fucking you stupid until you agree with everything he says. "Are you a pretty girl?" "Yes...g-god yes, please-" 🔸Only once he's satisfied that hes literally drilled his thoughts into you does he let up. Once you've both come down from your highs, he's the absolute king of making sure you're actually ok.

🔸 That's when he becomes far more gentle. Massaging your likely aching muscles, mumbling sweet nothings into your skin and pressing kisses everywhere he's just finished wiping down with a cool towel. 🔸 Hope you weren't planning on going anywhere the next day, because you likely can't walk, and he's absolutely built a nest around you with every intent on keeping you there so he can smother you with apparently all the affection and praise he seems to think you'd missed out on in your life and then some.

[kinokomynx]

Hewwo! *ahem* second time here uwu note that down somewhere-

Anyways, would (poly) lost boys deal with an female reader who is an animator? :D almost like marko but she owns an expensive tablet where she draws and animates on it, you know that song #brooklynpop by syko? How would they react when she basically animates them (very well) to that song and posts it? 😍😂

this sounded fun to me

Warnings: None! Just fluff and crack.

Author's Note: I do not own these characters! This was very fun to write, thank you so much for requesting! Sorry if this is short, I can brain fog towards the end, please enjoy!

R3blogging and followings are very much appreciated and welcomed. Hope you are well!

First off, these wild cats are not well known around the arts of technology, yes they may come to your home and watch TV for hours till the sun is barely up which ends up with you forcing them to get out. They see you use a computer, the tablet, or your phone but per say; they don't see why you need to have them, but they do like to watch Tom And Jerry and throw popcorn everywhere so I suppose that's a plus.

These guys are very snoopy, they like to get into your business, even if you tell them not to (other than Dwayne). So, if you decide to draw them? And not tell them? That is suspicious on their count.

They may think you're hiding something that may cause them to lose their trust in you: the what if’s? You're a vampire hunter(?) Are you cheating? Did you get hurt? Or did someone do something stupid to you that caused you to get hurt in some way.

If you decide to keep it from them, either from embarrassment, or the hype of the adrenaline; they’re gonna find out sooner or later.

Whenever they see you excited, confusion is one word. Of course, they’ll ask you why you're excited and if you decide to dodge the question? David and the others squint their eyes and huff loudly.

Once they do find out, whether you tell them, or they steal your tablet and snoop through: Embarrassed is one word, the other is excitement and pride.

All of their reactions are priceless: Paul and Marko are laughing their asses off, making fun of everyone (Including themselves) and not showing an ounce of embarrassment whilst Dwayne is nodding his head awkwardly, trying to keep a straight face (And failing to do so). David, on the other hand, is highly embarrassed, putting his hand over his face to cover his goofy smile but acting like he 100% hates it.

All of them find it cute and comforting that their mate decided to draw them, however David is a bit offended; claiming he ‘needs’ to keep his cool and scary demeanor, ‘needing to keep his intimidating statue to scare off anybody who dares to be a threat’.

Paul and Marko will not let it go with the teasing to David and Dwayne; continually making fun of them, laughing till they cry and are rolling on the floor. But, once you or the other boys make fun of them, they turn into literal puppies; hiding behind their jackets whilst yelling at you to stop.

The views on that video tends to be a lot, at least a few million within a few days or so. The video is named ‘vampire hot dates’, however, for the sake of your kindness; no one was named :)

They really don’t mind, actually finding it comfort to them as it shows that you're theirs and nobody else's. Though, beware that Paul and Marko are gonna be teasing you to the dead, dancing in the way to the video.

—

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ©kinokomynx

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.