#and yeah . the first image. i'll give it a

[irradiatedsnakes]

just take em.

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

it's Ron birthday tomorrow. love that guy!

[insert 100k essay about Ron Mael and 100GB Ron appreciation photo and gifset here] while mustach is playing on background

What a coincidence! I too love that guy! :D

A thousand "Can't Do Without You" awards be upon him!

(Almost) happy birthday, king! 🌞

[onrainynights]

🕯️manifesting my promotion🕯️

[dix0nspretty]

First of Many

Summary: John is hellbent on getting (and keeping) his sweet little spouse pregnant with his babies, if only you'll humor him.

Captain John Price x Spouse GN!Reader, 1.2k words

Era: N/A

TW: Breeding kink, mentions of AFAB genitalia and reproduction, eating out (brief), fucking til you can't, subtle manipulation from your loving husband.

If he wants a baby so bad, I'LL GIVE HIM ONE. TWO. TEN. Also only God knows how coherent this is because I wrote it 9 shots into a bottle of SoCo (right now), so.... @isavuu

Day 8 of my bastardized version of Russian Roulette Febuwhump/Kinktober for March that I'm affectionately calling Trinket's Cause of Death. It's basically 50/50 whump/kink where I generate a number corresponding to a prompt.

Day 8: Breeding kink with Price (kink, obvi)

It’s a poorly kept secret that John wants children. Not just one or two, but a whole brood of them. If he had his way, he would have an entire baseball team and more if only his spouse would side with him. They indulge the idea with soft ‘mhm’s and ‘that would be nice, John,’ but there’s still no firstborn to be spoken of and you are always sure to include the many cons of his few pros.

“Think about- ah- how many mouths we’d have to feed,” You continue the conversation as John works, his head buried between your legs. The man is multitasking by eating you out and trying to talk you into his daydream at the same time. “The groc-grocery deal. Oh, fuck, right there.”

You bury a hand in his hair, trying to grind your mound into his mouth, but to your dismay he overpowers you with a single hand and pulls away to speak. “That’s what money’s for, pet. To be spent. We both know we could handle the costs. I’d retire and get my pension for you love, and you could stay at home to watch our kids. Keep you pregnant and barefoot. I could get a non-military job.”

Even though the shine of your arousal of his lips and the tip of his nose is distracting, you’re not that lost to pleasure just yet. “Yeah baby, as if. I’m not going to be a stay-at-home parent. We would share the duties. Hypothetically. And one-“

A whine pours from your mouth as he tries to distract you by sucking your clit, trying to eat you out to incoherency. “Nice t-try. But one job won’t cover the b… the bills… Right there, right there, just like that. D-Don’t stop…”

To your dismay he pulls away once more with a ‘tsk’. “I wouldn’t make you a stay-at-home parent if y’didn’t want to, pet. Although the image…” He lets out a hungry growl that has your thighs twitching around his head. “The image of you with a warm meal and six or seven kids ‘round you… fuck.”

You’re pretty sure they can see the hard-on in his boxers from the space station with how high it’s standing, the grey of his boxers wet with pre-cum and straining to keep him contained.

What possesses you to say your next words is beyond your comprehension.

“What if we start with one?”

The speed with which his pupils dilate is almost scary. It feels like you’re prey suddenly faced with an apex predator, pinned under their starving gaze. Joh licks his lips like he’s dying of thirst. “Are you giving me permission, love? Think real hard before you answer, there’s no getting out of this.”

“Um…” You swallow the lump in your throat and fumble for your phone on the nightstand to check the cycle tracker app. Day 12, marked with a little blue circle. You haven’t felt shy in front of your husband in a long time, but this is different. This is something monumental and life-changing, this is the beginning of starting a family if you answer yes. “I’m ovulating.”

The restraint in his body is remarkable, the way his jaw muscles ripple even as his cock twitches and visibly further makes a mess of his boxers. “That wasn’t the question, pet.”

No going back now.

Your voice doesn’t come out as shaky as you were expecting. “Yes. Y… yes, I’m giving permission for you to knock me up. I want to have your baby.”

His hand wraps around your ankle and drags you down with one quick pull, drawing a startled squeal from your lips. You don’t even get a chance to speak before his lips are on yours, hot tongue immediately invading your mouth.

It’s pure unbridled passion. John seems hellbent on devouring you, whole and as quick as possible with how his tongue shoves down your throat. There’s a snap of elastic a second before he springs free of his boxers. The wet, hard heft of him hits the swollen and sensitive clit peering out.

“You ask, you get,” John informs and pushes your legs apart to grind against your drenched pussy with a groan. Between his pre-cum, your own arousal and the remains of his spit from eating you out eases the friction enough to pull twin moans into the heated air. Your mind spins with the shift from teasing, lighthearted John to a man with one mission.

Getting you pregnant.

He has your body shoved up into a mating press with dizzying speed and his enthusiasm can be felt when he slips himself into your tight heat with a near-feral sound of pure pleasure. “Fuck…”

It’s been a long time since you and your husband felt secure enough in your birth control to go bareback, since you got the IUD removed and never bothered with a replacement. The pure, unadulterated connection between your bodies feels like melting into one soul and the act you’re doing with the goal in mind only furthers that sensation.

You fumble to hold onto his biceps, needing some way to ground yourself when he finally settles hip-to-hip with you, deep and pressed against your G-spot with the familiarity only a loving spouse can have. J-John-”

“Yeah, pet?” Price growls into your ear, keeping your legs spread wide and high so he can get even deeper. It feels like he’s in your throat with every thrust, drawing choked moans from your lungs as the tip of his dick kisses your cervix with maddening frequency. “Yeah, you like that idea, don’t you, love? Want me to breed this sweet, perfect little cunt?”

You nod rapidly and continue to claw at his biceps, arching and squirming underneath his body. “J- baby. Baby. Want- want baby.”

He lets out a low laugh that makes your skin break out like goosebumps, that distinct predator-prey sensation sinking in time with his thrusts. If your ovulating, hormone-soaked brain could focus, it might be asking how you ended up in this situation in the first place. Getting load after load fucked into your womb until you’re sure it’ll be visibly distended and he just. keeps. going.

The stamina he displays is nearly inhuman and it’s a wonder he isn’t giving you dry orgasms by the time you pass out from equals parts pleasure, overstimulation, and exhaustion.

The bedroom light’s been turned off by the time you resurface, mind hazy and words difficult if not impossible to find. Your cervix feels bruised, your pelvis ground to dust, and your pussy… still full.

John shushes you when you make a soft, confused sound and pulls your body closer, warm hairy chest pressed against your back and large arms keeping you trapped in the spooning. “Shh, pet. You’re alright. Wore you out, didn’t I? Took yourself a little nap.”

A vaguely agreeing noise is made and he laughs, back to the warm and devoted husband you know so well. “Yeah, you’re still blissed out, aren’t you love?” His cock twitches and slowly starts to stiffen but he makes no move to start another round.

When you push at his arm he merely holds tighter and kisses the column of your throat, taking a deep breath against your pulse. “Hush. We have to make sure it takes, hm? Stay still so you can start making me a daddy.”

It’s to nobody’s surprise when you end up pregnant- twins, to John’s utter delight, and the tiny bump of a third Price making itself known in your womb barely a year after delivery as you stand barefoot in the kitchen making your twin girls eat their strawberries.

Just as John wanted.

[bunni-v1]

May we get some crk thoughts, my liege? I too have a hyperfixation—

Shadow Milk Cookie Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)

🍓Thank you for the excuse to write this shit, I feel less insane being asked to do it lol. I still think this might taint my public image, so lets hope none of my future employers fuck with tumblr. Anyway only smc since he's who I'm obsessing over. I was gonna add pv, but I write wayyyy too much to include both of them on one post. Maybe I'll do him if someone asks nicely. I'll have a mix of both sfw and nsfw so beware lol.

MDNI (I'll find u)

TW: Shadow Milk Cookie; Obsessive behaviors; Stalking mentioned; Nsfw under the cut; unedited

Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Sfw & Nsfw headcannons

Credit for Beast Bite Idea: @rollingeevee (go give them love I adore this AU)

-To start I'm gonna say, he's insane, like genuinely. He leans into a lot of yandere-esque behaviors, but I firmly believe he's not a full-on yandere, just really fucked up in the head (trauma and such, poor thing, wah wah wah.)

-Pre-Corruption Shadow Milk surely had a lot of admirers, but admiration is very different from genuine love and connection. He was, in a very literal sense, on a different level than all the cookies on earthbread. He's immortal, a god meant to care for all cookies, romantic relationships with cookies (other than the other heroes) just aren't an option in his mind. (For the sake of these, none of the beasts have had any romantic interaction with him, because I don't wanna deal with that can of worms rn.)

-All that to say, it's highly unlikely he has much experience in relationships. Maybe he's had flings, and some sexual encounters, but I doubt he would commit to someone he would inevitably lose to time. And, sure, he certainly could artificially extend their lifetime... but that's unethical and unfair to his partner. The burden of immortality is not one a regular cookie is baked to bear.

-So when he is inevitably corrupted and sealed away, romance isn't really a thought on his mind. He's very fixated on escaping that stupid tree and enacting his revenge. Which he does, at least in part, and with his freedom comes half of his powers and ensuing chaos.

-There are not many ways he could meet you if I'm quite honest, so I'll leave that up to personal interpretation. However you do meet him, though, you have to be intriguing. He gets bored of people easily, so you have to stand out -- be that in your demeanor or the way you speak or how you challenge him, it just has to be interesting. Once he's interested he's hooked.

-He's rather... mmm... obsessive? He likely stalks you for a while before he makes any moves. He wants to learn your patterns, the cookies you surround yourself with, the things you like, your job, your favorite foods, what flowers you like, and how do you feel about his chaos? He'll even manipulate things around you, just to see how you might react. (Is it fucked up? Yeah, lol! But isn't it equally endearing? He seems to think so.)

-You have frequent reoccurring dreams about him in this period of time. You've only seen him from a distance at this point, but you can't quite shake him from your thoughts. What's very important here is that you realize that your thoughts are not your own. Acknowledge that he's watching, and make sure that he's aware you're aware. Be that by purposefully doing something he could recognize as acknowledgment, or outright saying that you're aware he's messing with you. He values curiosity and intelligence in a person, if you can break yourself out of his cycle he's 100% sold on you.

-It doesn't take much longer after that for him to make his first official appearance. Bowing gracefully in front of you as he materializes from thin air, smiling like a man driven mad by infatuation.

-Believe it or not, he's really not all that creepy or pushy. He's very playful and charming, and while you have the knowledge he'd been watching you for a long time at this point, it's hard not to fall for him. He flirts with an ease that no other cookie really has, and he's so very funny never failing to get a smile out of you at his jokes.

-Now, this may go against what others characterize him as a lot, but I don't believe he's the type to steal you away and lock you up. Shadow Milk is a cookie who wants to be wanted, he doesn't want his feelings to be entirely one-sided, it would really hurt him to pour himself into someone who does not want to reciprocate his passions.

-He's unbelievably patient with you. Despite what the mental manipulation from earlier implies, he allows you to set the pace and make the moves, mostly nudging you gently in the direction he wants you to go now that he has your attention. Again, he wants you to choose him. He wants you to love him, so he will happily wait as long as it takes for you to realize and accept your longing for him.

-He gives you the flowers you like, and listens to you talk about your exceedingly boring days (with rapt attention, of course, he loves listening to you talk as much as he loves talking). If you ask, he'll take you anywhere you'd like to go on earthbread with a snap of his fingers, showing you sights you'd only dreamed of seeing. (Whether or not these are illusions are still up for debate).

-It's very hard not to fall for him with all this considered, and he knows that of course. He was just waiting for you to confess, and you have to confess. He won't do it even if you make it clear you want him to. It's not something he'd ever admit to you -- or himself -- but he doesn't want to risk even the slightest bit of rejection. It would break him more than he's already been broken, so you'll have to do it for our poor little jester.

-When you do though? Oh, he's over the moon! Practically swooning as he scoops you up and spins you around in celebration. He's so overjoyed. He is wanted, there is someone in this world who loves him genuinely. There's no false platitudes or any worshipping done, just raw affection between the two of you. (Just the tiniest bit of manipulation at the start, but obviously you've dismissed and forgiven that at this point).

-Again, he doesn't immediately take you away from your life if you don't wish to be. He does heavily encourage you to come spend your days with him, though. He can take care of you, he's literally a god, you'll never ever want for anything so long as he can control it (which he can, duh).

-I feel it very important to emphasize that in a relationship with him, you are equal. Even if you literally cannot be equal in stature and power, you are equal in the relationship -- if anything you have more sway over him than he does over you. He's very, very in love with you, and he will do just about anything you ask of him so long as it doesn't interfere with obtaining his souljam.

-Having established that, let's get to the fun stuff.

-Shadow Milk Cookie is very physically and verbally affectionate. If you are around him it's likely he's touching you in some way. Whether that's him literally hanging off you like a baby monkey or just a hand on your arm, he likes to have a physical tether to you.

-Plenty of messy wet kisses all over your cute little face, he loves seeing you get all flustered and feeling your dough burn up from his barrage of affections.

-It's also very common for him to carry you around in various different styles. Over the shoulder, piggback, princess style, like a sack of potatoes... doesn't really matter. It's also a regular occurrence that you fall asleep as he floats around the spire of all knowledge. He doesn't need sleep, and he does not sleep often, but he likes holding you while you do so. It's proof of your trust in him, and he usually uses the time you are sleeping to be more genuinely affectionate. Soft words whispered in your ears bringing you sweet dreams as he runs his hands up and down your back, kissing the crown of your head with such love it would make a grown man blush.

-He calls you cute little nicknames, like shortcake or sweet thing. The most common, and his favorites, are doll/dolly and little star. (Little star is something he hums with such affection it makes you weak in the knees. You know he's feeling more adoring when he uses it.) Talks about how cute you are, how pretty you are, how desirable you are. How any cookie would be so lucky to have you -- too bad they could never compete with him!

-That being said, most of his affections are pretty surface-level stuff at the start of the relationship. At least, what you get to see. He has a hard time opening up to others, he's a very sensitive cookie deep down in his dough. It takes quite a while to get him out of his shell and start showing you who he is as himself.

-Who he is, is a very aching cookie. He lost so much, struggled with his own corruption, and still hasn't fully accepted it himself. He feels as though he has been betrayed and discarded by everything he once loved, it's no wonder he has a hard time showing you such ugly sides of himself.

-You warm him up, melt him slowly, and you get to see peaks of genuine love and adoration behind those heterochromatic eyes. He may never allow you to see all of him at once, but you do get to know him. If you continue to love him despite seeing the uglier side of things, there is a distinct shift in the way he showers you in affection.

-Initially, he's very showy with everything, his love is a spectacle for the two of you to watch. It's almost like he's put himself outside of the relationship rather than in it. After he opens up, it's quieter, more intimate. He's more involved in it, like it's less about showing you how much he loves you, and more about sharing that mutual feeling between the two of you.

-You didn't have much room to show him how much you cared for him, but now you do. He allows you to initiate physical affection and doesn't flinch away at the touch. He accepts your words of admiration for what they are, not questioning your intentions for any reason.

-Kisses are softer, more full of emotion. Less like he's drowning you and more like he's trying to swallow you up. Desperation to have you as close to him as possible can take him over quite frequently during make-out sessions, and they leave you breathless and fuzzy rather than burning and flustered.

-Now, you can't write Shadow Milk without acknowledging how fucking jealous he is all the time. Now, I believe it's less of a jealousy thing (though, that really is something that is frequent), and more of a possessive/protective thing.

-He doesn't get jealous of the average cookie, alright, not unless you show interest for whatever reason. They're not really a threat to him, and why would they be? He's secure enough to know that you wouldn't leave him for some random half-baked simpleton. HOWEVER, he DOES get jealous of the other beasts and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.

-The other beasts aren't as powerful as him, but they're still powerful and cunning (some of them at least). Truly, on a level of divinity and ability to care for you, they are his closest competition. Even still, he only gets jealous if one of them seems to want to stake a claim on you, or you become too fascinated with one of them.

-If neither is the case, he highly encourages you to form relationships with them. They are cookies that, seemingly, he cares for. While they can be difficult to get along with, if you are someone Shadow Milk deems worth his time, you are someone they will also deem worth their time.

-Ah, I should also mention he gets... pouty about Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. He doesn't see either of them as a threat, so I couldn't say he's jealous... he just gets annoyed when you're being attentive to them when he's around. Black Sapphire is smart enough to set hard boundaries with you to start, for both of your sakes, but your relationship with him is very positive. You are Shadow Milk Cookies partner, after all, you're a very important Cookie and Black Sapphire has no reason to be unkind to you.

-Candy Apple Cookie on the other hand is the one who's jealous here. You find her positively adorable and her little crush on Shadow Milk is nothing but endearing in your eyes, but she very much is huffy about your relationship with him. Of course, she can't do anything to you, that would only turn against her in the end so she just pouts. You can win her over slowly, though, just by being sweet to her and comforting her when Shadow Milk rejects her once again.

-Your relationship with them seemingly pleases Shadow Milk, though you can't really tell if he's happy or not. Sometimes he seems pleased, other times he's pouty, so who really knows other than him.

-However, the cookie that really seriously gets under his skin the most is Pure Vanilla. He does everything in his power to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible, but it's almost inevitable that you meet PV, especially when he becomes Truthless Recluse.

-Pure Vanilla is everything Shadow Milk is not. Kind, gentle, patient, soft-spoken, and of course truthful. He's very afraid you may meet PV and realize that you do not want to be with him anymore. You would rather have someone like Pure Vanilla Cookie to dote on you in a fashion that he cannot bring himself to do openly yet.

-Of course, you don't, but that doesn't stop the fear from seeping into his dough. The only way to ease him is by being patient and displaying your loyalty through and through. He won't really be calm until Pure Vanilla is take care of, but you can assure him that you won't be leaving him for his other half anytime soon.

-Circling back to his possessive and protective tendencies, Shadow Milk does see you as an object of his affection. He is fully aware you are your own cookie, you are not something he ever wishes to control entirely and remove autonomy from, but you are his. His to keep and love and protect.

-He's very obsessive about your well-being and happiness. If something hurts you (alive or not), it's gone, destroyed. He won't even make a show of it, it just disappears. If you are upset, he is there doing everything to make you feel better. Whatever you want, whatever you need! He's here for you, please rely on him (he needs you to rely on him).

-If you are out and about he keeps an eye on you, which you are aware of. It's rather obvious, so even if he doesn't tell you, you can feel him watching you. Ignoring it becomes easier with time, but if anything happens to you he wastes no time in popping up and taking care of whatever happens.

-This leads into my next headcanon (inspired by the ever-talented @rollingeevee go check them out!), he has a bite of sorts that he uses as a means of monitoring you. It's something he uses to pinpoint where you are at all times, even when he's not monitoring you actively. The bite acts as a connection between you and him, emotionally and physically tying the two of you together.

-You can feel what he feels through the bite, anger, sadness, joy, pretty much anything he feels you can feel. It also acts as a reminder to you that you should not stray too far from where he is, sending an uncomfortably heavy feeling through your dough. (This is a manifestation of his worry, and it only really happens when he notices you've gone somewhere a little too far from the safety of the spire).

-However, this goes both ways. He can also feel what you feel at the same intensity that you feel it. You can, likely less so, also tell where he is. There is a pull in the back of your mind from the magic telling you where to find him at all times, and it only lets go when you are in proximity of him. If you miss him, he feels the same heavy feeling in his dough reminding him that you would like him by your side.

-Now, finally, we have to address the topic of mortality. Shadow Milk is likely more aware than you ever will be of how mortal you really are. This is why he's so very protective and possessive of you, he doesn't want to lose you prematurely.

-However, if you are okay with it, he is completely fine with artificially extending your life span. In fact, he does it happily. He might even start doing it without asking if the topic hasn't been broached in a certain amount of time. He wants to spend as long as you'll allow him by your side, and if that means breaking a few rules of magic and cookie society then so be it. He's a god after all, he doesn't have to answer to anyone (other than the witches).

-Anyway, let's get to the shit you freaks are really here for. (Me, I'm freaks.)

-I don't really think sexual intimacy is something Shadow Milk desires all that much, but he more so likes it because it's... interesting? I'm sure he derives physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, but less so than the average cookie might. Most of his enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoy yourself.

-It goes without saying, but Shadow Milk Cookie is a freak. He's into pretty much anything under the sun (except maybe one thing...), and so long as you're down to try something he's happy to oblige you.

-He is a switch, but he leans dom most of the time, and you won't get him to sub early on in your relationship. That requires a bit too much trust for him, so he'll need time to be cool with giving you that kind of control over him. But he will bottom for you as your relationship progresses, and that's a whole different side to him.

-Lets start with him in a dominant role, though, since it's more common to get from him.

-Obviously, he's a tease, through and through. He loves to watch you squirm and react to the things he does. Tantalizingly light touches drawn over your dough, teeth grazing your soft body almost piercing but never quite getting deep enough, heated breath blown over your most sensitive spots but never relieving you with his mouth as you so desperately need.

-Truthfully he could spend another thousand years just tracing over you, committing each inch to memory until he's satisfied in knowing every inch of you. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), he's not nearly as patient in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Not with all of you on display for him, so trusting and open, ready for him to defile you. Oh, his sweet, sweet little dolly~

-Even with his impatience, his teasing does not stop. His hands continue to ghost over you, making sure you're still squirming even as he succumbs to his need to taste you.

-Oh, and tastes you he does. He doesn't have to subscribe to regular cookie physical limitations, so he somehow manages to swallow you whole. Jaw unhinging so he can get as much as he needs from you, tongue splitting itself to give you attention everywhere, and god is it long and dexterous. He can reach so very deep and it moves with such precision, it makes you cum embarrassingly fast.

-That is if he allows you to cum in the first place. He's a big fan of edging, which shouldn't be a surprise. He likes to get you so close, then deny you of your pleasure. Your whining and grumbling is the cutest thing on all of earthbread, don't you know? He can't help but edge you when you're so damn cute every time.

-Your pleasure is in his hands, and it requires such relinquishing of power and trust. In a weird way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially when you thank him over and over once he finally allows you to come undone after hours of teasing.

-Speaking of, he is a big fan of being praised for the work he does on you. Your moans and pleas are reward enough, but if you mumble out about how good you feel, how much you love him, how amazing he is he'll become drunk on your praise. Chasing after it with fervor, meaning he's going down on you with so much more excitement somehow.

-He's into blood (jam?) play. He likes leaving physical reminders of your relationship all over your body (yes, even ur vag/dick if you let him). With how sharp his teeth are, it's impossible for you not to bleed when he does so, and he does really like the sight of your jam. It's so pretty and so different from his own, another reminder of how different you are, and how much you trust him. (He'll lick it up and purr at the taste.)

-Bruises are also littered about your dough, his grip on you is tight, like you might slip away from him. The treatment is rough and harsh, but it feels so nice to be manhandled by him. The bruises are just nice little reminders of who you belong to. (He gets all proud when other cookies worry about them, like he's done something worthy of praise).

-He likes watching, he's very much a voyeur. Occasionally requests that you pleasure yourself for him so he can watch you struggle to get off, and he'll only help you out when you're near tears begging him.

-He prefers coming across you by himself, without having to request it. Or just feeling waves of pleasure through your bite. He'll watch you quietly fuck yourself without letting you know he's there. (Though, you most certainly can feel his eyes on you, that's what makes it so fun right?) Sometimes he'll join you after, and other and times he'll leave you be, it's 50/50 either way and regardless you still end up happy.

-If anyone else walks in on you when you're alone, he's very unpleasant. Accident or not they'll learn to be more aware of their surroundings next time.

-That doesn't mean he's against being watched though. Actually, he finds the idea of someone else seeing how well he treats you enticing (especially if it's someone like Pure Vanilla hehe). If you are together and someone walks in (or spots you in public), he won't stop. Instead, he'll lock eyes with them and smile big and wide, showing off his favorite little dolly for them.

-He's just so proud of you, and you're so very pretty beneath him, the whole world should get to see how you fall apart for him. He'll even make you look at them just to see how you fluster.

-If the offender tries to do anything other than watch, though, well... I really hope they didn't want to live for much longer. He's very much not a sharer, at all. The idea of anyone even thinking they could touch you and make you feel good both makes him laugh and want to tear them apart at once.

-He's very much into roleplaying and can get really into it. To the point, it loses the sexiness and is just the two of you playing around, which can be a bummer but is usually really fun. He likes things that lean into power dynamics but explicitly avoids god/king and worshipper/subject. A little too close to home for him, and would honestly be too boring and basic for him.

-He loves it when you dress up for him in pretty little outfits, be it lingerie or something more cutesy, he adores it regardless. Going out of your way to pretty up for him is a huge turn-on. He also loves it when you let him dress you up how he likes. Regardless of what you're wearing, it's not coming off the whole night. It will get ruined and he won't apologize for it. Besides, he can just replace it, right?

-Sex is more fun for him, but he can be intimate when he wants to be. Usually, when you're in control, he is at his most gentle. Yes, he's a brat when he bottoms and he'll fight you tooth and nail, but once you get him to submit he's the softest and sweetest you've ever seen him.

-He looks at you like you're the god, wide eyes taking in everything you do with such admiration it might make you crumble on the spot.

-He's much quieter, treating it less like a spectacle. Moans soft and squeaky, like he's not used to using his voice in such a way. He clings to you like a vice at each little movement, almost afraid you might disappear if he lets you go.

-Oh, and he praises you so much. 'So good', 'Thank you', 'You're perfect', and 'I love you' all tumble from him with such genuine gratitude.

-Being allowed to let his guard down and have you take control is cathartic for him, which is why it's so uncommon to have it happen. It's why he fights you for control so hard because this is an intimacy he isn't used to. It is hard for him to allow you to see him so weak, but you never use it against him. You're so very sweet and loving, and it makes him melt like butter in your grasp.

-If you have the bite I mentioned earlier, it only makes things so much more intense. Both of you can feel the raw emotion connecting the two of you, making the pleasure heighten further.

-In fact, when he gives you the bite it's the first time he allows you to top him. To connect you to him makes him very vulnerable, so he would naturally have to be in a vulnerable state already when he does so.

-It's unlike any of his other bites, it's far more painful when he initially bites down, but when his magic flows through it your body feels light and airy. The pleasurable feeling wrapping itself around your spine, and you feel what he's feeling. All that adoration pours into your being at once, and it's overwhelming to really feel how much he loves you.

[33forthew1n]

✷ catastrophic crash ✷

🏎️❣️ lando norris x wife!reader ❣️🏎️

written ff

angst

synopsis: an argument with his wife leads to lando norris having an unfocused mind and a messy crash mid-race. when lando wakes up, your life changes forever.

part 2 ->

WARNINGS: angst!!, crash description, heavy emotions, cuss words

requested: yes!! by @f1queen27 who asked for 'Lando norris x reader imagine. Maybe they are a couple and had a huge fight before a race which causes him to crash.'

a/n: thank you for the request and everyone pls feel free to send in more!

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

"No, Lando, no! What don't you understand?", you say for what feels like the millionth time this morning.

"What don't I understand? Baby, racing is my life. I can't give it up! I'm still at my prime. If I can still win races, I'm not going to retire", he explains to his wife.

This wasn't the first time you'd talked about Lando retiring from Formula 1, but it sure is the worst conversation (read: argument) you've had on the topic. You were standing ten toes down on your position and he was doing the same.

But, truthfully, you didn't understand how retirement wasn't on his mind. You were pregnant with your second child and your first was three years old. These were the times Lando had to enjoy with his family, not at a racetrack.

"Fine. Go race. Leave your wife and children behind at home to chase a chequered flag. When will we be enough for you, Lando?", you implore before leaving your living room and laying down in your bed. Before you know it, you've broken down in tears.

A part of you knows that this isn't a big deal. It's probably your pregnancy hormones snowballing the argument into something so much bigger than it really was.

But, deep down, you were insecure. It didn't feel great to raise a toddler and tend to your pregnancy whims all on your own 75% of the time. Hell, sometimes you felt like a glorified single mother. You often wondered if Lando just kept you and Ella at home to play into some expectations society had for him. You just wanted to feel like your family was his priority, not racing.

You hadn't realized you'd been crying and sniffling for over half an hour until Lando knocked on the door and gently opened it. When you saw him ready to get on the plane and leave you and Ella behind, you felt a surge of anger run through you. How could he be packing up to leave you behind while you're drowning in your sorrows? What the hell is wrong with your husband?

When he saw the way you were looking at him with tear stains on your cheeks, he knew he'd royally fucked up.

"Yn, darling, I-I have to go now. We can talk once I get back, yeah?", he timidly asks.

Engulfed in your resentment for him, you refuse to respond even as he comes around the bed and gives you a hug. With a kiss on your forhead, he says, "I'll go say bye to El now. I love you..so much. Bye, love."

That was the last time Lando told you he loved you.

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

Media, First Practice sessions, and Qualifying all went by in a blur. He couldn't sleep, eat, or drive properly knowing the state he'd left you in. His answers to the media were clipped and defensive. His First Practice sessions were messy and left him unable to get the team the data they needed. And qualifying...was hell. He qualified ninth on the grid in what he knew was the fastest car by a large margin.

Yet, post-qualifying the media were much kinder than he expected them to be. It'd been an odd weekend for him and they all said it was because it was the first race back from a summer break that'd left him rusty. He'd be fine tomorrow for the race. He had to be.

Yet, when he sat down in his car on Sunday he knew.

He knew he wasn't fine.

But, he stuck it out because he had to. The team depended on him, his championship relied on his performance. The world was on his shoulders.

Yet, what weighed on him the most was you. That image of you in your shared bed under the covers weeping and glaring at him his every waking moment. You asking him if his family would ever be enough to satisfy him was a constant mantra he was unable to stop hearing. Knowing that you were so angry and hurt that you'd refused to answer his texts and pick up his calls was enough to make him feel like the world's worst husband.

And as the lights go out, so does his ability to compartmentalize.

Before his first lap even ended, Lando had lost control of the car's front left and gone spinning into the barrier.

At home, you saw your husband crash in slow motion. Heard his race engineer question if Lando was okay to no answer. The second Lando had crashed you'd held your breath, but now that he was being lifted into an ambulance you were full-on weeping.

You grabbed your phone and called everyone you knew that was at that damned circuit. His race engineer knew nothing more than you did. His manager was still in Lando's garage. But, your hail mary was Andrea Stella who told you exactly where your husband was being flown to. The Princess Grace Hospital.

You immediately got your best friend to come over and babysit Elle and yourself a taxi to the hospital.

Before you knew it, you'd arrived at the hospotal. After paying the taxi, you waddled inside and asked the receptionist what room Lando Norris is in. "And who are you to the patient, ma'am?"

Today was not the day for a random ass lady to catch an attitude with you.

"His wife. Mother of his children. Now, where is my husband?", you practically screech.

"Ah. Sorry, Mrs. Norris. Room 81, floor 4", she ashamedly responds.

Once you get up to the fourth floor, you release the breath you didn't know you were holding.

Walking into Lando's hospital room, you almost cry at the sight of your husband unconcious in the sterile, white hospital bed. It was hard to believe that the Lando in that hospital bed was the same Lando you'd seen just four days ago.

You quickly found a chair to sit in and talk to him. It didn't matter that he was unconcious and talking to him was a pointless feat, you just wanted him to know you forgave him.

"M-my, love", you immediately begin to cry by his bedside. Everything hit you in that moment. How the last words your husband had heard you say were that you thought he wasn't satisfied with you and Elle. How you ignored him when he said goodbye on Thursday. Worst of all, how you ignored his texts and calls just to spite him.

You felt like the worst wife in the world when you looked at his unmoving body.

The only thing that comforted you was knowing that he'd wake up and this nightmare of a day would be over. Things would be better. Things would be the same again.

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

The next day when you woke up, you were thrilled to see Lando was awake.

You'd spoken to his Doctor the night before and now knew that Lando wasn't too badly hurt. Two bruised ribs, a concussion, and possible mild memory loss. Nothing would be certain until he spoke to the patient.

But, you got ahead of yourself and spoke to Lando first.

"Lan! You're awake! How do you feel, darling?", you say, practically smothering the man.

The next words he said would haunt you forever.

With a confused look on his beautiful face he asked, "Who are you?"

And that was when your world truly came crashing down.

[hxzbinwrites]

Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD

Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles

Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.

"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.

"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.

"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.

"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."

"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"

"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."

Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.

--------

"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"

Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.

He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.

"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.

"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.

"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?

"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."

"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.

"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"

"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.

"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"

Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"

"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"

"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"

"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.

"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.

She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.

(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.

But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.

Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.

She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.

"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"

"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.

Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.

The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.

The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.

This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.

The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.

“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.

“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.

“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”

Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.

(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.

Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.

Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.

Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”

(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!

Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?

(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.

“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.

————

Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.

He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”

Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.

He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.

Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.

“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”

Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.

“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”

Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.

————

Word Count 1,524

[mafiadad5]

Tramp stamp: prologue / preview || P. Jisung

𐙚📷꒱ camgirl!reader x tattooartist!jisung

𐙚📷꒱ Release date- August 5th || OUT NOW!

𐙚📷꒱ synopsis- You weren’t supposed to find out your new tattoo artist was also your subscriber, but now that you have, why not make it interesting? It was supposed to be business— now he’s in your bed, on your screen, and way too deep under your skin.

𐙚📷꒱ genre- smut/ porn with plot MDNI! 18+, fluff, hint of angst if you squint.

𐙚📷꒱ warnings- masturbation (for preview), bdsm themes, sexual filming. (Full list of warnings will be released in the main fic!)

𐙚📷꒱ W/c- 6.3k for preview, estimated 25-30k for full fic.

a/n- hiiii guyssssss :D! I’ve had this idea for a while, so I’m finally bringing it to life. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the main fic! Love you <3

═════════════════════════

"Hello, do you have any openings for walk ins today?" You asked, stepping through the door of the shop.

The receptionist glanced up from her screen, tucking a pen behind her ear. "Yeah, let me check." She turned toward the hallway and called out casually. "Jisung, you down for a walk-in right now?"

There was a pause, then a voice drifted out— low and clear, with a hint of rasp. "Yeah, sure."

The receptionist smiled as she turned back to you. "He'll be right with you."

"Thank you." You gave her a small smile and sat on the black leather bench against the wall, pulling out your phone and scrolling idly.

A few minutes later, the soft creak of a door signaled his arrival. "Hey." He said simply, voice quieter now that he was closer. "What are you looking to get today?"

You looked up and paused.

Oh.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. He was attractive. Not just attractive— hot in that quietly intense way. Sharp dark eyes, and dark hair that was slightly messy.

"I want a tramp stamp." You replied with a slight smile, rising from your seat and stepping toward the front counter. You pulled up a photo on your phone and turned it to show him. "Like this."

He leaned in slightly, nodding with approval as he squinted at the image. "Classic." He said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Do you want it exactly like the picture?"

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Alright, give me a few minutes to get everything prepped and I'll come get you."

"Okay." You smiled again, watching as he turned and disappeared down the hallway.

You waited, glancing around the shop— walls lined with flash designs, portfolios, and random Polaroids pinned. You could hear him setting up in the back, faint clinks of metal and the hiss of something being sanitized. A few minutes later, he came back out.

"Ready?"

You nodded, following him through the hallway into the back room. His station was neat— organized trays, sterile packaging, a padded table in the center with a mirror on the far wall. The lighting was soft but clear, a gentle hum from the overhead bulb.

"Alright." He said, gesturing toward the table. "Where exactly are we placing this?"

"Low." You answered, a small smirk on your lips. "Right above my ass."

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he grabbed a pair of gloves. "Got it. Go ahead and pull your pants down just enough to expose the area— stop right above where you want it, and lie down on your stomach."

You did as he said, adjusting your waistband and settling onto the padded table, your cheek resting on your arm. You heard him snap on the gloves behind you.

"This your first tattoo?" He asked as he grabbed a bottle and some paper towels.

You nodded. "Yeah."

"Cool." He sounded calm, relaxed. "I'm just gonna talk you through everything since it's your first, alright?"

"Alright." You murmured.

He came around beside you. "I'm cleaning the area first." He said softly, spraying a cool mist against your lower back. His gloved hand moved in slow, firm circles as he wiped the skin clean, the sensation oddly soothing.

"Now I'm applying the stencil." He said, dipping into a small pot of transfer solution and rubbing it gently into your skin. You felt the slight pressure of his hand as he pressed the stencil into place, fingers lingering for a second as he smoothed it down, then peeled it up.

"Go ahead and check it out in the mirror. Let me know if the placement works."

You sat up, stepping toward the mirror, turning to the side, you looked over your shoulder. The stencil sat perfectly aligned just above your curves.

"Perfect." You said, catching his gaze in the mirror for a moment before sitting back down.

"Great. Gotta let it dry for a few minutes, and then we'll get started." He said, giving you a small nod.

You laid back down, scrolling on your phone to distract yourself, though your heart was already starting to race in anticipation. A few minutes later, you heard the familiar buzz of the machine starting up as he returned, adjusting his stool beside you.

"You ready?" He asked, eyes flicking to yours.

You nodded, bracing yourself.

The first prick of the needle made your breath hitch, but you stayed still, jaw tight, brows furrowed in focus.

"You okay?" He murmured after a few seconds.

"Yeah, all good." You replied, your voice calm but breathy.

He continued slowly, steadily. The pain fluctuated— dull in some areas, sharp in others. At one point, he hit a particularly tender spot and body tensed slightly.

"Ou..." You let out, low and quiet, the sound almost a soft moan as your teeth pressed into your bottom lip. Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to breathe through it.

He paused for a second. Then without a word, his gloved fingers lightly rubbed the spot beside the sting gently.

"Yeah, I know." He murmured, his voice even lower now. His eyes flicked up to the mirror, locking with yours for a second too long. There was something there— something unreadable, like curiosity or heat or restraint. "Just breathe."

You nodded, letting out a slow exhale.

He continued, working in silence as you melted into the chair, pain giving way to the hum of the machine and the strangely intimate focus of his presence beside you.

Eventually, the buzzing stopped.

"All done." He sat back, pulling off his gloves. "Wanna take a look?"

You stood up slowly, your lower back still tingling, and turned toward the mirror, your mouth parting slightly.

"Oh my gosh." You said, eyes widening.

His face shifted slightly— brows drawing in for a second as he watched your reaction through the mirror. "Everything okay?"

"It's perfect." You said, turning to him with a smile. "So sexy."

He let out a quiet laugh under his breath. "I'll get you up front whenever you're ready."

You headed back to the counter, pulling your shirt down as he met you with a small stack of papers.

"Here's your aftercare— super important. Wash it gently, no soaking, moisturize with something unscented, and don't pick at it, no matter how much it itches."

You nodded, skimming the paper. "Got it."

"Alright, $350." He said, tapping the screen of the checkout tablet and spinning it toward you. "Card or cash?"

"Card." You pulled out your wallet.

As you glanced at the screen, you hesitated. "Is there a way to leave a tip on the card?"

"There was." He said, frowning. "It stopped working this morning though. If you've got cash I can take that, but if not, don't even worry."

"Damn." You said, pouting slightly. "You did such a good job. You were so gentle and it looks fucking awesome— I feel bad not tipping you."

He gave a small smile and shook his head. "Seriously, it's fine."

"Do you have, like... a Venmo or something I could send it to?"

He paused, considering. "No, it's cool... really." But then he tilted his head slightly. "Wait— this is your first tattoo, right?"

You nodded, swiping your card.

"Have I... serviced you before? With anything else?" He asked, eyes narrowing just slightly in curiosity.

Your brows furrowed, caught off guard by the phrasing. "No, I don't think so." You replied with a laugh. "Why?"

"I don't know, you just seem super familiar."

You smiled, shrugging. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

He paused for a second, then pulled out his phone. "Well, since you're new or whatever, I can give you my Instagram. Just in case you have questions or if anything feels off."

"Yeah, that'd actually be great." You said, unlocking your phone and handing it to him.

He tapped in his info and handed it back.

"Alright." He said, backing up behind the counter with a small grin. "You're good to go, hope the rest of your day's good."

"You too." You said, your voice light as you turned to leave, stomach still fluttering from the whole encounter.

You could feel his eyes on your back as the door closed behind you.

═════════════════════════

It had been a long day.

Jisung pushed open his front door and exhaled the second it shut behind him, leaning his weight against it for a moment like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His shoulders ached, his fingers were still stained faintly with ink, and his brain felt foggy from hours of back to back clients and constant buzzing.

All he wanted was a little peace— something that would pull him out of the numbing routine. 

He took a long shower, hot water pouring over him until his skin flushed, then towel dried his hair half heartedly and collapsed into bed. His sheets were still cool, the overhead light buzzed faintly in the corner of the room as he reached for his laptop.

He opened it without even thinking.

The muscle memory kicked in— typing the URL, logging in, clicking through to his subscriptions. Just one name there— the only one that mattered.

ControlFreak.

He swallowed as her profile popped up, thumbnail teasing the corner of a new upload. The second he saw the preview image— black lace, soft lighting, the gentle curve of her waist, he felt that familiar heat rise in his gut.

She was dangerous... way too good at what she did.

He was obsessed.

He didn't talk about it with anyone, obviously. No one knew about this part of him, but there were nights like this, when the exhaustion and silence hit just right and all he wanted was to watch her— listen to her voice, her teasing tone, the way she played with the camera like she could see right through it.

He clicked on the video, and her voice greeted him instantly.

"Hi guys!"

His stomach flipped.

There was something about the way she spoke— sweet and playful, but just a little commanding, like she knew you were already under her spell.

She was wearing a delicate black lace set that clung to her like it was made for her. Her body looked perfect— curved in all the right places, skin smooth and glowing under the soft light. He couldn't see her full face, just glimpses of some of her features, just enough to keep him hooked, but God, she was beautiful, he could tell.

"I hope you're all doing okay. You are now, at least, because I'm here... right?" She said, lips curled into a teasing smile.

Jisung chuckled quietly, already feeling the tightness growing in his sweats. He settled deeper into his bed, one hand absentmindedly running over his thigh.

"I bet you're already hard, aren't you?" She murmured, her voice dipping lower, more intimate. Her hand trailed up her inner thigh in slowly.

He let out a low breath, amused— and yeah, a little called out, but that was the point. She had a way of making it feel personal, like she was speaking just to him.

"First off." She said, sitting up a little straighter. "I have something to show you guys. I'm so excited, look."

He leaned in instinctively, licking his lips as he watched her shift on screen, turning slowly to reveal her back.

And then he froze.

She was showing off a tattoo, right above the curve of her ass. It was small, playful, flirtatious, sexy in the most obvious way, but more than that— familiar... too familiar.

The exact same design he'd inked on someone just two weeks ago. Same placement, same angle, same font even.

He blinked, sitting up straighter, the arousal in his gut suddenly tangled with a swirl of disbelief... fucking way.

He paused the video, staring at the screen like it would explain itself.

Could it really be...?

The girl from the shop. The one who'd walked in smiling and sweet, asking for a tramp stamp. The one who giggled when she said "right above my ass." The one who tensed under his hands when the needle hit a sensitive spot, letting out those breathy little sounds that made his stomach twist. The one whose voice had stuck with him longer than he cared to admit.

He ran a hand down his face, shit.

He stared at the frozen frame of the video, the tattoo clear as day, his own work staring back at him through the screen. His heart thudded a little harder.

He thought back to that day— your voice, the way your body moved on the table, the glance you shared in the mirror. You'd been flirty, confident, kind of unforgettable, if he was honest with himself.

And now, somehow this.

He let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. He probably should've been mortified, most people would've been. But instead, his hand moved back down, and he unhooked the waistband of his sweats.

He hit play.

Now that he could match your voice to your body, your expressions, your rhythm, your teasing, it did something to him he didn't even want to try to understand. It was like watching a memory from a different angle, something deeply personal he wasn't supposed to have.

But he wanted it.

"You like it, don't you? Can't stop looking?" Your voice teased from the video, light and cruel, soft laughter threading through each syllable.

He did, he couldn't stop looking. He thought the same damn thing back at the tattoo shop, the first time he caught a glimpse of you and couldn't tear his eyes away. His breath was shallow as he started to palm himself, movements tentative at first, drinking in every inch of you on the screen. The way you moved, the way you teased the camera like you knew exactly what he needed.

"Look at you, so pathetic, getting this turned on over a tattoo? I bet you are, aren't you?"

His hand sped up slightly, a quiet moan slipping past his lips. "Fuck." He breathed, almost too quiet for even himself to hear as the shame twisted deeper. His knuckles brushed the wet patch already starting to stain his waistband, and he swallowed hard, refusing to look away from the screen.

Then you turned forward again, your fingers sliding along the waistband of your underwear, teasing, legs spread just enough to make him go crazy.

"You want me, right? Tell me you want me. Tell me you want to see me."

"I want you." He whispered, rough and low, voice cracking with need. His head tipped back against the wall behind him, eyes still glued to the screen.

You giggled, sweet and sharp all at once, and his stomach clenched.

"Beg, not like you haven't done it before. Beg me to take them off."

A wrecked sound left him, his hand working faster, desperate now. "Please." He gasped, voice ragged. "fuck, please, oh my god."

"Harder, more." You commanded.

He obeyed instantly, his fist moving faster, rougher, moans tumbling out of him with no shame left at all. It was so dirty, so humiliating, but he didn't care— he couldn't. You owned every broken sound that came out of his throat.

"Shit." He gasped, pulse pounding. "I'm about to— fuck, please, please—"

Your voice stayed soft and mocking as he tumbled closer and closer.

"Look at you, so pathetic. You think you deserve this, huh? You really think you do? Well you don't, you don't deserve anything I'm giving you."

His eyes squeezed shut, a choked moan tearing from his throat, his whole body jerking as cum spilled out across his stomach, ropes marking his skin in humiliating streaks. His voice broke on a sobbing gasp, the pleasure cutting too deep to even process. He rode out the orgasm, nearly shaking, until he was empty.

"Maybe next time you'll get lucky." You laughed. "And can actually see me."

The screen went black.

He sat there, chest heaving, sweat cooling on his skin, trying to process everything that had just happened. The sticky mess clung to him, a filthy reminder of how completely he gave himself away to a screen— to you. He let out another shaky, stunned laugh, dropping his head back against the wall.

═════════════════════════

You've been loving your tattoo. Like, seriously obsessed. Every time you passed a mirror you found yourself twisting, lifting your shirt, checking it out from the side. It looked so good, it made you feel more like yourself, somehow.

So when the buzz of excitement hadn't faded two weeks later, you figured... why not get another?

Same shop, of course. Same artist, he'd been good— gentle, professional, and kind of hot in that quiet, messy haired, tired eyes way. You liked his vibe, it made sense to go back.

When you walked into the tattoo parlor, the bell above the door chimed softly. You immediately spotted him behind the counter, ringing up another customer. His head was bent slightly, focused on whatever he was handing over. Then his eyes flicked up, the second they landed on you his whole face changed.

His expression dropped, like he seen a ghost— or maybe something way worse. His shoulders stiffened, mouth opening slightly, then closing just as fast. He quickly turned back to the customer in front of him.

"Um, okay... here's your aftercare set." He said, voice a little tight.

He glanced toward you again and dropped the product right out of his hands.

"Shit, sorry." He muttered, crouching down to retrieve it. He stood and handed it off, forcing a smile. "Have a nice one."

Weird.

You stepped forward, a smile on your face, waiting for him to acknowledge you, but he didn't say anything— just looked at you, then quickly away.

"One moment, please." He said, voice low. Then he turned and walked straight to the back.

You blinked, brows lifting slightly. Okay... that was new.

A few minutes passed before he returned. When he did you noticed his eyes looked red— like he rubbed them hard or had a moment to himself he wasn't planning to share. Still, he came to the counter, clearing his throat, trying to keep his voice even.

"How can I help you?"

You smiled. "Oh my god, it's you."

"It's me." He said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Do you have time for a walk in today?" You asked.

He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek, glancing up at you. "Depends on what you're getting."

"Nothing crazy. Just, like... two small hearts." You said, tapping the area above your chest. "Right here."

His gaze dropped briefly, to where you were pointing— right above your upper boob. You saw his jaw twitch slightly before he looked back up.

"I could do that now." He said, voice softer.

"Awesome."

"I'll just need a second to get everything ready." He said, disappearing again to the back.

When he returned, he gestured for you to follow him. The back room looked just like last time— sterile trays, the padded chair, low lighting, but somehow it felt... different.

"Alright." He said, snapping on a pair of gloves. "I'm gonna need you to take your shirt off."

You didn't hesitate, fingers hooked beneath the hem of your shirt and you tugged it over your head, tossing it aside.

You felt his eyes on you— his focus, thick and lingering. When you glanced at him, you caught him staring... hard. He blinked and turned quickly, grabbing the disinfectant spray, hands a little shaky.

He was unraveling. And you didn't know why, but it made your skin prickle.

He cleared his throat again. "Alright, just gonna clean the area first."

You laid back, letting him work. His hands were gentle again, careful, but his energy was completely different— tense and strained. He was trying so hard not to look directly at you. Every time your skin twitched, every time you flinched or exhaled too deep, you could feel the way his breath hitched.

Then he hit a sensitive spot. A soft, involuntary sound left your throat, half sigh, half whimper. His hand froze for half a second. His breath stuttered, he exhaled grounding himself.

"Breathe." He murmured. It wasn't just for you, you could hear it in his voice. "I'm almost done."

You nodded silently, resting your arm beneath your head, watching the soft flicker of the overhead bulb until he finally leaned back, wiping your skin clean one last time.

"What do you think?"

You sat up, eyes scanning the mirror. The tiny hearts were placed just where you imagined.

"Perfect." You said, smiling at your reflection. "Just like last time."

He gave a small, quiet smile. "Great, I'll walk you up front."

You followed him out, the air in the front room feeling weirdly heavier now.

"That'll be $95. Card or cash?"

"Card." You said, pulling out your wallet. "Are tips working this time?" 

"They are." He gave a soft laugh that didn't reach his eyes.

"Oh, and... I overheard you selling that aftercare kit earlier. Can I get one too?"

"You can... but honestly? You probably don't need it. Looks like your first one healed up perfectly."

You smiled at the compliment, then blinked. "Wait... how'd you know that?"

There was a moment of silence.

He froze.

His eyes darted to yours, wide and caught. "Uh—I... you're wearing low rise jeans." He said quickly. "I could see it."

Your brows lifted, skepticism flickering across your face. You nodded slowly, swiping your card. "Right..."

You grabbed your receipt and gave him a final glance. "Well, have a great one."

"You too." He said, still standing stiffly behind the counter, watching you leave like he couldn't figure out if he should feel guilty or grateful.

Later that night, you were scrolling through Instagram, half watching something in the background when a notification popped up: New request in Private Chat Room – $300.

You frowned, clicking it open. You only had to respond once to get the money. Then you could block, ignore, whatever. Easy.

Username: jjsungp12

Weirdly familiar.

jjsungp12: i have a question.

You squinted slightly, already bracing yourself for whatever dumb shit was coming.

ControlFreak: Hello to you too lol. What is it?

God, you hated when people messaged like they were entitled to you. Like they knew you, like you owed them softness.

jjsungp12: sorry, I didn't mean to be rude.

You raised a brow.

ControlFreak: It's ok. What's your question?

jjsungp12: would you ever fuck a fan?

Your eyes narrowed... here we go.

ControlFreak: Why, you feeling lucky?

jjsungp12: no, just curious lol. you're only ever by yourself.

That was... odd. Specific. Most guys didn't comment on that.

ControlFreak: Well... I think I would. For fun, maybe.

jjsungp12: okay. thank you for taking the time to answer.

ControlFreak: That's it?

jjsungp12: yep, thank you.

ControlFreak: You're welcome.

The conversation was over and yet, you just sat there staring at the screen.

It was weird. Not the message itself— it was suggestive, sure, but calm. Not demanding, not sleazy, just... odd. Like whoever it was had wanted the clarity more than the fantasy.

You stared at the username again: jjsungp12

Something about it scratched at your brain. You went through your social media, checking your recent followers, nothing stood out.

Then you opened your recent search history.

jisungpark12

Your eyes widened. You chuckled, rolling your eyes in disbelief... no way.

You'd been tattooed by a pervert, twice.

Suddenly everything clicked— the weird energy, the way he stared too long, the tension in his voice, the way he clearly recognized you but didn't want to say why. The way he fumbled through conversation like he was holding a secret in his mouth.

You thought he was just another hot guy with zero self control around a girl with her shirt off, but maybe it wasn't just that.

You bit your lip, considering.

He was hot.

And now that you knew he was into you...really into you, you were suddenly thinking about what to do with that power. Because he wasn't just another fan behind a screen, he'd touched you, tattooed you, fantasized about you.

And maybe now it was your turn to make him squirm.

═════════════════════════

The next day, you waited until late evening, just forty five minutes before closing when you finally sent the message.

Hey, this is Y/n L/n, the one who got my tattoo done yesterday. I don't know, something doesn't look right... if you're free could I stop by so you could just take a look at it?

You stared at your phone, watching the typing bubble appear... disappear... then nothing. Silence stretched until nearly closing time. Finally, the screen lit up again.

We're actually about to close soon, but if you're close by I don't mind just taking a peek.

You smiled to yourself.

Perfect.

You didn't waste time, you slipped on a long, oversized shirt— one that could be easily shrugged off, and a pair of pants that framed your body just right. You fixed your hair loosely, applied just enough gloss to your lips to catch the light, and grabbed your keys.

The tattoo parlor was only ten minutes away. When you pulled up, the lights inside were still on, and you saw him through the glass, already at the counter waiting.

When you walked in, the bell above the door gave a soft jingle. He looked up immediately, eyes locking on you.

"Hey." He said, voice cautious but warm. "What's going on?"

You glanced over your shoulder toward the door, then turned back to him. "Do you mind if we go somewhere more private?"

His eyes searched your face for a second, something flickering in them before he nodded. "Sure, come on."

He led you to the back again, into the same quiet space you remembered. "Is there anyone else here?" You asked casually, eyes scanning the room.

He shook his head, settling behind one of the stations. "Nope, just me tonight."

You stepped in a little closer, voice softer now. "So... something just doesn't feel right. It's really red and irritated. I thought that would've gone down by now."

He stood up quickly. "Mind if I touch?"

"Go ahead." You said smoothly, dragging the words slightly, watching him closely.

He grabbed a pair of gloves and slipped them on, stepping up to you. You slowly lifted the hem of your shirt, watching his eyes drop.

He placed a gloved finger gently on your skin, brushing it over the tattoo.

"You feel it?" You asked quietly, voice lower now.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours for the briefest second before darting back to the ink on your skin.

"This is actually pretty normal for this area." He said, his voice a little too fast. "More tissue here, so it gets inflamed easily. Just give it a few days— keep it clean, moisturized, no heavy friction. If it still looks irritated by then, let me know."

You smiled, tugging your shirt back down slowly. "Okay, thanks."

He stepped back, already walking toward the front. "Cool, I'll walk you out."

You followed behind him, your mind racing.

You were so close to calling him out, but the words hadn't lined up yet. It felt too sudden. Then just as your hand touched the doorknob the idea came. It was risky, very embarrassing if you were wrong, but the only way.

You paused, turning around. His head snapped up as you faced him again, your expression unreadable. He blinked fast, his whole body tense.

"I have a question." You said, walking slowly back toward the counter.

He nodded, guarded. "What's up?"

You tilted your head slightly, studying his face. "Would you ever..." You dragged it out. "Fuck a customer?"

There was a long silence, his brows furrowed, lips parted.

"That's... a little out of line, ma'am." He said, voice quieter now, unsure.

You smiled. "Is it? I wasn't sure because you asked me the same thing last night... jjsungp12."

His expression cracked. Mouth opened, nothing coming out.

"I— what?" He stammered. "I didn't. I don't even... I don't know you. I didn't message anyone."

You raised your brows. "Oh, so you think I'm dumb?"

"No! No, I— I don't think you're dumb." He rushed, panic creeping into his voice. "I just..."

"You're just what?" You interrupted, voice dipping with fake sympathy. "Just curious? Just a fan? Just a little too obsessed with a cam girl you accidentally tattooed twice?"

He froze. His body went still, hands twitching slightly at his sides, eyes wide and guilty and full of fear.

You let out a soft laugh, not cold, but amused.

"I know it was you." You said, walking toward the door again, but instead of opening it you locked it, the click ringing loud in the quiet room.

"Look." He said quickly, voice strained. "I'm sorry if I creeped you out. I didn't mean to. I just— shit, I didn't know what to say. I didn't think you'd figure it out. Please... please don't be mad."

You turned to face him again, slowly. There was a gleam in your eyes now.

"Oh." You said with a fake pout. "You're scared?"

He nodded, lips trembling. His voice came out like a whisper. "A little."

You stepped closer, eyes scanning his body and there it was clear as day. The firm, obvious print in his jeans.

You scoffed. "You're seriously hard right now?"

He didn't answer.

You tilted your head. "I'm confronting you about being a creep, and you're standing there with a boner like some pathetic little loser?"

He swallowed hard, eyes locked on you like he couldn't look away, even if he wanted to.

You laughed quietly to yourself and took a breath, letting the tension stretch.

"I should report you." You said, voice low, eyes unwavering as you studied him.

"I know." He whispered.

"But I won't." You added, watching the way his chest began to rise and fall faster with every second.

His eyes darted up to meet yours. "Why?" He asked almost too quickly, like he couldn't believe his luck and didn't trust it.

You tilted your head, letting your eyes drag over him one more time. His hands were still trembling slightly at his sides, his ears were flushed a deep pink, his breathing uneven, his entire body locked in place like prey trying not to spook the predator.

And then the obvious bulge pressing against the front of his jeans twitching slightly, helplessly. Shame swam in his eyes, but behind it... curiosity, humiliation, hunger.

You bit your lip thoughtfully. "Or maybe I will."

You watched the blood drain from his face. You weren't serious— but God, you liked the way he looked when he thought you were. The way fear and arousal spread across his expression, like he didn't know whether to run or drop to his knees.

"I— please, I'm sorry." He said quickly. "I didn't mean to be a creep. I'll do anything."

Your eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued. "Anything?"

He nodded, too fast. "Yeah, anything."

You let the silence stretch for a moment, tension coiling thick in the air between you. You stepped closer, slowly, until you were close enough to see every twitch in his jaw, every shaky breath.

"Come." You said, turning your back and walking toward the rear of the studio again.

He hesitated only a second before following, his footsteps trailing behind yours like he was caught in your gravity. You stopped once you were far enough in the back, the lights a little dimmer.

"Get on your knees." You said, calm and clear.

He blinked, like he was trying to process if he heard you right, but then he obeyed. Slowly, he sank to his knees in front of you, the floor creaking softly beneath him, eyes never leaving yours.

You smiled. He was obedient, nervous, eager, you liked that.

You hummed to yourself, tapping your cheek with your finger. "Now pull down my pants."

He reached out carefully, hands warm and slightly shaky as he placed them on your hips and slid your pants down, dragging them gently over your thighs, your knees, to your ankles. He kept his head bowed, like he didn't know where to look. You could practically feel the tension radiating off of him, the way he breathed shallowly, afraid to make one wrong move.

"Go lower." You instructed, voice smooth.

He shuffled backward, settling at your ankles, eyes wide and waiting.

"Now." You said with a crooked smile. "Lick, all the way up to my thigh."

His eyes flicked up to yours, checking, hesitant, but you nodded once, so he did it. Slowly, he leaned in and let his tongue drag a line up your leg,. When he reached your upper thigh, he paused, planting a soft kiss there.

You grabbed his chin firmly and yanked his face up, forcing him to look at you.

"Did I ask you to kiss me?" You asked, your voice quiet but sharp.

His eyes went wide in panic. "N- No, I'm sorry— I didn't mean to. What can I do? I'm sorry."

"Apologize again." You said, studying his face.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disobey."

You smiled condescendingly and pleased. "Good, now pull my pants back up."

He nodded, still on his knees as he gently slid the fabric up your legs again, like he was dressing something precious.

"Now stand up, loser." You said.

He scrambled to his feet, standing awkwardly in front of you, flushed and breathless, his hair slightly messy, his jeans visibly tight with arousal.

You stared at him for a long moment. Then smiled, soft and mocking. "I guess I won't report you."

Relief broke across his face like sunlight. "You won't?"

You shook your head. "Nope, but you owe me."

"I do." He nodded quickly. "I owe you. Anything."

You raised a brow. "Careful." You warned, stepping past him slowly. "You don't even know what I'm gonna ask."

He ran a hand through his hair, nervous, still flustered. "Still, I mean it."

You glanced at him once more. The shame on his face, the restraint, the fact that he hadn't pushed, hadn't crossed the line even when he clearly wanted to. You liked that. You trusted it, maybe just enough.

You clicked your tongue and walked toward the front again. At the door, you looked over your shoulder. "You're lucky you're cute." You said, smirking.

Then you slipped out, leaving him standing there— stunned, hard, and absolutely wrecked.

You'd been thinking about it for a while now. Every time you went live, every time you rewatched clips to edit, every time your inbox flooded with fantasies, suggestions, and "you should do this..." messages— your mind always drifted back to the idea.

What if it wasn't just you?

You liked your solo content. You liked the control, the freedom, the mystery. You had your rhythm, your image, your comfort zone and it worked, but the curiosity had started to grow.

Especially after what happened in the studio. You didn't even realize how often he crept into your thoughts— those soft brown eyes flicking up toward you, the flush of his neck, the panic and arousal battling in his expression. You hadn't even touched him, barely let him touch you, but the power you had over him had stayed with you like a drug.

And now you were wondering... would your fans want to see that?

Would they even be into something more real— something suggestive but still in your control? No actual sex, no crossing that line... just a taste, a tease. Something hot, but boundaried.

So that night, you set up your camera and went live— nothing heavy, just you bathed in the glow of your ring light, lounging in a loose off the shoulder shirt and barely there shorts.

"Hey, babies." You said, smiling as the chat immediately lit up.

You tilted your head. "So I've been thinking about something. I wanna run it by you guys..."

Curious emojis flooded the chat.

You bit your lip, dragging out the suspense. "So. Honest opinion— no pressure. Would you wanna see me do content with... a guy?"

The chat blew up instantly.

YE S YES YES

only if YOU want to

depends on the guy 😏

would it be real sex or just like... teasing??

who is he???

pls collab I'm dying

You grinned. "Calm down." You teased. "I'm not saying anything's for sure yet, but if I did... it wouldn't be full on sex. Just... content. Still my style, still me."

You leaned a little closer to the camera, voice softening. "But with someone I trust, someone who knows how to listen."

He flashed in your mind again— those wide, guilty eyes, the way his voice cracked when he said please, the way his hands trembled when they grazed your skin.

The chat continued to spiral.

that sounds hot

I like the idea of you being in control still

honestly yeah even just kissing would be good

bring him on screen already 😭

just no dick, pls

You laughed softly. "Don't worry, I'll keep it tasteful, you know me."

You watched the flood of excitement fill the screen, and you felt it— that same control again. Not just over your audience, but over the direction of your content.

You had an answer now and you already knew who he was going to be.

You pulled out your phone, thumb hovering for a moment before you opened Instagram and tapped on his profile.

You: Hey, you free tomorrow?

He read it instantly. The typing... bubble appeared and then disappeared. You waited, watching the screen.

jisungpark12: no, not working tomorrow. another artist will be in.

You paused, tapping your fingers against the screen, then typed again:

You: No, I mean to go out. Get coffee or something. I need to talk to you.

He saw it immediately.

Typing... stopped. Started again, then stopped.

Read.

Five minutes passed, then ten... thirty.

Finally, a reply:

jisungpark12: yes. i'm free. let's meet up.

You smiled faintly, then dropped a location pin to a quiet little café you liked.

[bravehyde]

Ant Tenna Anatomy: What's In a CRT?

~Deltarune Chapters 3+4 Spoilers~

I think it's safe to say a lot of people like Tenna. TV heads are popular for a reason, they're fun! And obviously I'm not going to step on the toes of people making designs because you can do whatever you want. I've simply noticed quite a few people making him very modern under the collar, which is fun and all, but what if he's 90s tech all the way down?

I wanted to make a series of posts on possible things he could have as a television from the 20th century, as well as a broadcast host (since he seems to make his own show and would need to be sending that signal somewhere!) and just a piece of equipment that's walking around. Everything's bendable in that televisions aren't alive, so it's a fun exercise. This first post is just pointing out some things I've noticed that are very present day for such an old man. A quick checklist of things he may not have that a regular TV head or robot character would have, you could call it. I'll try to offer alternatives as well if you want them!

First things first: what is a CRT?

Most people use CRT to refer to the analog television set, however CRT technically doesn't mean that. CRT stands for Cathode Ray Tube, and is referring to the device that allows the image to be projected on the screen of the television. As such, know that when I just say "CRT", I'm not referring to the television. For the television set, we're still calling it a CRT TV, which may sound like a mouthful, but it's a pretty important distinction. For Tenna, the different between a CRT and a CRT TV is the difference between his brain and his head. We should know which is which!

It's incredible how CRTs work since it is, when we really really simplify it, electrons shooting through a glass tube completely devoid of oxygen to make an image appear on a screen we covered in phosphor cream. This is kind of a form of radiation, but a lot of things are a form of radiation when you boil it down, so that's not too big of a deal. Just know that most of what's in Tenna's head is what he uses for his display, this big glass thing right here. Basically, electrons are made by a heated filament and then bounce a million times to the screen where it displays a series of images. If you've ever heard that a CRT is radioactive, it's because of this thing. It can make x-rays, which generally you do not want to contact with your naked flesh or eyes. Sorry.

Are CRT TVs made of metal?

I put this one personally because it tickled me how many people do a full body of Tenna and give him a shiny shell when CRT TVs were not like that. If a CRT TV had a metal casing, it would be incredibly unsafe. All technology can hurt you if you fuck up, but since this thing can make ionizing radiation and/or implode with glass, they were especially careful. What's in his body past his neck can be debated, and I'll make a post later on ideas of what technology he may need inside him, but we're going to pretend for now that the rest of him is like a natural extension of a CRT TV. He's full of very thick glass that is incredibly difficult to break, designed to be free of defects, and with other little bits mixed in for durability and x-ray shielding. Yeah, these are one of many inventions that have a bunch of lead in them. Don't lick it even if it makes rainbows.

And so you don't get electrocuted, his ass is not metal. He would be incredibly ineffective if he was. If we used the incredibly simple term for his material beyond the screen, it's just plastic, but if you want to know the science-y one, Tenna's most likely made of acrylonitrile butadiene styrene, or ABS plastic. This type of plastic is used because it's very rigid, very tough, and incredibly resistant to chemicals and temperature. ABS is used in a ton of stuff, from toys to car exteriors to pipe fittings to medical implants. If you've heard recently about something being replaced with 3D printed plastic, there's a good chance it's ABS plastic.

Obviously, that's not as fun to shade if you're going for an incredibly rendered piece, so I can see why people would default to metal, but I've also seen more people lovingly render LEGO bricks than I can count, so I think there's something there for you. Bonus points if you want to bring up how he's probably 30ish years old so you can put all sorts of scratches and dents in there. Who didn't have scuff marks on their childhood TV on the corners?

Do CRT TVs have wires?

We all know why this is on this list. I don't have to say it. And yes, CRT TVs have wires, just a lot less than you're thinking. By "a lot less", I mean this is what the inside of one looks like, with a quick video of someone taking one apart.

Highly recommend watching videos of people taking old technology apart, btw, it's addicting. But anyway, this is a bullet point for a slightly separate reason. It may be tempting to have an art or fic where someone is taking Tenna apart for whatever reason.

Taking apart a CRT TV, like all technology, is very dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. CRTs can emit radiation, the actual TV can be high enough voltage to kill you. To safely take apart one of these for repairs, you'd have to ground the power. That is one of the main wires in a CRT TV, actually. It's very foolish to do CRT TV repairs while the television is plugged in, AKA while it's on, AKA while Tenna is awake. You could definitely swing this as him showing trust to the other person that they can poke around his innards while he's unconscious, or of course, if Susie's doing it when he's kinda-almost-dead. Just, uh, don't do it while he can still react and talk. That's a pretty good sign you're going to get zapped.

For a lot of wire stuff it would probably make sense to do more AV inputs and outputs. Those would most likely go right into the back of his head, but if you fenaggle it to be in other places that'd make sense too. I personally think his neck is probably just those cords lol and it's a great way to get a pop of color in him. It's most likely also how he has a microphone if you want it physically connected to him.

Do CRT TVs have fans?

Another one that makes me giggle because I see people write this who are more used to doing computer-y robot people as their writing focus. I'm sorry babes, Tenna is no spring chicken. He's not your MacBook that wails in agony when you try to play Minecraft, he's not that Windows laptop that vrrrrrrrrrrrrrs when you dare to put it on a blanket. He does not have a fan. In the days of the CRT TV, if he got hot, he got hot, and he had an oven inside of him to force him to cool off, but it took a long time. I know a lot of people want to bring up fans to talk about him ~overheating~, but it isn't quite like that.

This doesn't mean you lose the idea of him needing to cool off. Quite the opposite, really. Anyone else really like to touch the front of a CRT TV after it's been on for a while? How it kind of hurts but in a good way? You know, that little zap? Just a nice way to get around that. Of course, when people talk about a CRT TV getting really hot, it's a good idea to have a fan in the room. Maybe Tenna has an old box fan in his chest to help him thermoregulate? Food for thought, I guess.

Do CRT TVs have pixels?

This is a toughie and something that I find really fun: in a way, CRT TVs predate pixels as we think of them. LCD screens have pixels as set objects on the screen, tiny panels that cover it. CRT TVs do not, and I can explain why they don't but that's a huge thing that will take several paragraphs and pictures and I can post about at length later, so for now just take that they don't. Images in general have pixels, but they aren't projected on the CRT screen how they would be on a pixellated screen. This is part of why a lot of people got rid of CRT TVs, since this makes the pixels come out "blurry" compared to the clean, high resolution of an LCD screen. You can adjust a CRT TV to project more pixels since it doesn't have them as a set number of resolution on the screen the way an LCD TV does though! I think a lot of people have seen this image before but I'll put it here anyway as an example of what this means appearance wise. Still pixels, just doesn't look like it.

Honestly, it makes Tenna's appearance in the game that much more interesting. His pixels don't stay in the same place the way they do for every other character, with defined outlines and the same sized pixels throughout the story. Him shrinking and growing could be seen as him setting the resolution on his monitor to accommodate how many pixels he wants to be. He doesn't have an outline like everyone else because he doesn't have the set pixel count, instead approximating it the way all CRT TVs do! He already had some light reality bending powers given that he can teleport us wherever he wants and put up a "technical difficulties" screen, but him using an ability that powerful for something so seemingly inconsequential is insane. I'd also recommend looking at Tenna's sprites on a CRT TV if you track down one of those videos, because his appearance in the normal game compared to that intro cutscene on a CRT TV is crazy similar and I love it.

That's all I have for this first post. Very introductory, very basic. I know some things because I grew up with CRT TVs, some things because I have a degree in media stuff and had to take classes on the history of television and cinematography, and some things because I just kind of got curious and wanted to look into it. Obviously, I don't know everything to ever exist, but I know not everybody wants to do the digging I do for fun on old technology or knows where to look.

I'll be making more posts under the tag "ant tenna anatomy" if you want them, and my ask box is always open! Any questions you have, I'd love to answer.

[starfishcakes]

Blurred Lines | Caleb x You

synopsis: He's always been your safe place. You never once questioned the line between you...until that night you crossed it—accidentally. It was supposed to be a private photo, one you took from a fleeting moment of boldness. But your finger slipped, sending the wrong picture instead of the meme you intended for him, and before you could take it back, the image was already delivered to Caleb.

content: mdni, this mini-series will include angst, smut and fluff, childhood friends, LOTS OF YEARNING, seduction, piv sex, creampie, making out, oral (m! + f! receiving), fingering, i'll add more as i go!

pairings: childhood friend!Caleb x you, yearning!Rafayel x you

navigation next chapter >>

"Fuck!" you cursed quietly into your pillow, phone almost sent flying across the room when you saw the message status: sent. delivered. Your stomach caves in, panic creeping in, all while blood is rushing up to your cheeks. It was meant for someone else. Well, not really. It wasn't meant for anyone in the first place. Just a photo you've taken impulsively on a bold night. The same photo that was accidentally sent to none other than Caleb, who's in your living room right now, who happens to also be your oldest friend. The DAA pilot who just crash-landed into your quiet life for a three-day visit, still smelling like stardust and jet fuel.

You hear him moving around outside, barefoot on your floorboards, the clink of glass against the sink. Has he seen it? Is he unaware? Do you have time to sneak around and delete it before he sees it? No, you can't do that. You'll only end up feeling guilty invading his privacy like that. You freeze at the sound of his footsteps nearing.

A faint knock on your door, and you panic once more.

"Hey." his voice was soft and calm, always the ever comforting you knew. "Everything okay? You disappeared." You can hear the worry in his voice.

You swallow hard before opening the door just enough to see his face. Calm your nerves fuck. You repeatedly remind yourself as you struggle to meet his soft eyes, the resemblance that of puppy eyes. He always does that, staring at you with so much longing that you almost mistook it for something else.

"Yeah," you lie. "Just...changing."

You wait for him to answer, and for a moment it looked like he might say something else. But he doesn't.

"Okay," he murmurs. "I'll heat up the coffee again."

You nod, but your heart doesn't slow. Because when the door clicks shut and you finally glance at your phone again—

he's seen it.

And he's still acting like everything's fine. You hate how good he is at pretending. It seems like between the two of you, you're the unfortunate one who has to double their efforts just to hide their feelings.

By the time you step out of the living room, Caleb is already back on the couch, long legs stretched out, a mug in one hand, scrolling through some mission report on his holopad like nothing happened. Didn't he just see you naked?

He glances up when you walk in, greeting you with his usual warm crooked smile.

"Your coffee's probably ruined," he says. "Tasted like regret."

You force a laugh. "So... like yours?"

He gives you a wounded look, his hand playfully on his chest. "Wow. Remind me why I flew across space for this again?"

You shrug, sinking into the opposite end of the couch, making sure to leave space between you. "No one else makes you bad coffee and insults your taste."

He hums in agreement, but his watchful eyes are still on you, soft, but you can feel the gravity of it reeling you in. Always looking for the things you don't say. And maybe that's what hurts the most. Because this isn't the first time he's looked at you like this. He knows. Like maybe he's wanted to say it before. But instead, he always laughs, jokes about something, changes the subject, and makes plans.

Just like now.

"I could head out around six," he says, tapping his pad. "Pick up groceries. I was thinking beef stew? I'll cook."

You nod too quickly, fingers awkwardly fiddling with each other.

Your voice was quipped, and he notices. He always does, he knows you like the back of his hand, always the first one to notice whenever things went south with your emotions. There's that tiny pause of breathing before he sets the pad down and turns to face you fully.

"Hey," his tone drops as it trails off, "About earlier..."

Your throat tightens. Fuck here it comes. You glance down at your hands, gripping your mug like it's the only thing keeping you from completely overthinking everything.

"I didn't mean to send it," you say quickly. "It wasn't—Caleb, I swear, it was a mistake." You struggle to meet his gaze, cheeks a rosy tint, your heartbeat pounding, ringing in your ears.

"I know," he says, but he doesn't sound entirely sure, or maybe he just doesn't want to be. You don't understand him at all.

The space between you falters, the silence deafening, so you look up. Somehow, without thinking, you both lean forward at the same time. His hand brushes yours, and your knees touch. His face is so close now, lips only a breath away. You can feel the heat radiating off his breath, the tension in his body like he's just barely holding himself back.

His hand reaches up, fingertips hovering just near your jaw, and you almost forgot to breathe with how painfully you wanted him to finally close the distance. But then, just as quick, he pulls back and the moment slips away.

"I should head out," he says, standing abruptly. "Groceries."

You nod, suddenly feeling numb and dumbfounded. What the fuck was that? You feel him hesitate to leave, but he just grabs his jacket and walks out the door, leaving you in silence.

Alone, you sink further into the couch, fingers trembling from the aftershock of what almost happened. Your chest aches in a way you can't explain, so you grab your phone and click on a familiar number.

Rafayel.

For a busy man, he surprisingly picks up on the second ring. "Hey, cutie. Finally remembered I exist?"

"...it's Caleb." you whisper, then you proceed to give him a brief summary of the humiliation you just happened to be in.

Rafayel's voice slides through the speaker, warm and bubbly with a charm only he carries.

"Of course, Caleb." he says after a beat. "Let me guess—he acted like nothing happened again, and now you're spiraling on the couch wondering if you should just leave town, and go into hiding with a new fake identity."

You groan. "I hate how accurate that is."

You hear him chuckle, his soft voice calming you a little. You sink further into the cushions, rubbing your face with one hand. "It was a mistake, Raf. I didn't mean to send it to him."

"Well, what a shame," he replies smoothly, "Because if you had sent it to me, I can promise you I would've given it the attention it deserved."

You choke. "Rafayel"

"What?" he says, feigning innocence. "You think I'd ignore a gift like that? No way. I'd be knocking on your door and telling you exactly how beautiful you are before you even had time to regret it."

Your face burns, thighs unconsciously pressing together. "You're unbelievable."

"I'm honest," he corrects, and you swear you can tell he's already snickering on the other end of the call. "And unlike some people, I wouldn't pretend I didn't want you."

You try to brush it off with a scoff. "You flirt with everyone."

"Not like this," he says, voice suddenly in a serious tone.

Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, the line goes quiet. It's not a deafening silence, but the type to make you completely aware of the burning sensation in your body. The way your fingers twitch against the cushion, the sudden awareness of the heat radiating from your own skin. It's ridiculous, it's wrong, it's not fair, and still, he makes you feel seen.

"I'm just saying," Rafayel adds, voice back to his usual cheerfulness, "If he keeps avoiding what's right in front of him... maybe you should start thinking about other pilots. Ones who know exactly what they want."

You swallow hard. "You're not helping."

"I never claimed I would," he laughs, and it's infuriatingly ear candy. "But I'll say one last thing."

You hold your breath in anticipation.

"If Caleb's too scared to look at you the way you deserve to be looked at...just think about it. That's all I'm saying."

His words linger; you can tell he wasn't kidding.

"Goodnight, cutie." The line clicks off.

And you're left staring at your ceiling, breath shallow, heart tangled, that is still stupidly aching for a man who never quite stays close enough for your reach.

hi hello this is my first post here in this blog. i'm excited to hear everyone's thoughts ! <33

[lena-thinks-too-much]

It is so, so important to me that people understand that Tim didn't figure out the bats because Dick was a "Show off". Like yes, Dick Grayson is the most flamboyant, dramatic ass man you will ever meet.

But the quadruple somersault? There's no way that was because dick was just showing off. Because you're telling me Bruce Wayne, who's so committed to hiding his identity that he literally acts like a completely different person out of the mask in public just to ward suspicion, would miss the fact that Robin regularly uses the flying Grayson's trademark move? There's literally no way.

In the comics we see Tim explain his deductive process to Dick and Alfred and they're both surprised impressed whatever. We don't see him explain it to Bruce. I think Bruce would be surprised and shocked that a 9 year old was able to put the pieces together but I don't think he'd be surprised that the quadruple somersault gave it away.

So if Bruce was possibly aware of such an obvious give away, why let it continue?

I'll tell you why.

It really comes down to the physics

So Dick was 9 when he started out right? That means the most he'd have likely weighed was 43kgs or roughly 95lbs in freedom units.

But Dick and both of his parents are gymnasts who tend to be smaller. So he was likely less than that.

In physics, rotating objects build up angular momentum (this is how bikes stay up right for example). The more rotation, the more momentum. And objects with less mass build up that momentum much faster than those that are heavier.

Robin constantly has to fight people who are nearly 3 times his size. I teach 8 year olds, they're tiny. A quadruple somersault for a small boy that weighs less than a hundred pounds is a brutal weapon. Especially if you add in the acceleration from gravity as he drops in from above.

And I can guarantee you this logic tracks because Dick literally utilizes this idea, without the somersault, in the 2009 teen titans cartoon.

Yeah, that's right. We're talking about the infamous knee drop.

Like it is borderline savage. Add in a quadruple somersault and the resulting force is nearly fatal. It's likely the main reason Batman would ever allow him to do it with the cape on.

Also, Dick landing feet first on the penguin in the first image probably gave the guy severe back issues

[quartztwst]

LARGE Quartzul Divorce AU Lore Dump HELP ME (cringe warning)

(More info) (Also "Quartz" and "Quartzsona" are used interchangeably)

"How did they start their relationship?"

LMAOOO NEVERRRR jk

I think we all know that Quartzsona has a THING or at least a LIKING to Azul. That's literally the whole reason why she loves to ragebait him but she'll never admit it to protect herself 💔💔 ("omg tsundere-" GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!)

I think Azul knows this fact too despite being beat up and having his spine broken into 5 pieces that you need find around the NRC campus to get a golden goose but thats okay

They don't really get together during NRC but after Azul graduates, they end up together somehow (Azul using sweet words).

Also take a note that Quartzsona is NOT a regular human or being in TWST, she does not have paperwork and no documents that is listed she is born or exists here. She is in the same situation as Yuu but her story is hella different.

TWST Quartzsona is just a vessel for the Actual Quartz to explore through different worlds so she could easily come and go aka DISAPPEAR AND REAPPEAR. She basically has no other purpose but that. (I'll elaborate it in a separate post.)

The Actual Quartz is only interested if the exploration is fun. If the fun is over, TWST Quartzsona HAS to go. If clinging onto Azul and creating a sudden romantical plot intrigues her maker, then she can stay in the world as long as she wants. Plus, she gets to date the guy she really adored.

Azul, on the other hand, doesn't really have romantic feelings for Quartzsona. He finds her confusing and weird but he knows she like him, which fuels his ego a lot and finds useful. He easily takes advantage of it to boost his image.

He thought the journey would be hard because of Quartzsona's stubbornness but he was surprised to see how much she easily gives in to his empty promises of love and attention.

"How were they in the relationship?"

Being the only one in love, Quartzsona was actually trying her best to be more comfortable and more open with Azul, acting a little childish and affectionate which weirded Azul the fuck out 😭😭😭

Yeah, he didn’t really like it that much. He found it so weird that the Quartzsona he met at NRC was so different to the one he's dating now. He expected her to act more mature and maybe aloof so he could easily just do work but she ended up being "so gross and clingy."

He obviously appreciated the love and affection but it felt scary for him to know that someone really believed he should be loved romantically.

Azul didn't really view Quartz much as a person but rather an accessory or a task on a to-do list. He didn't really want a wife but he had to so he could look at least desirable or for his image.

Because of that view, Quartzsona's actual feelings was usually ignored by him just showering her with materialistic things he thought showed his "love."

Azul sometimes criticizes Quartzsona for being "too affectionate and annoying" which would piss her off and lead to an argument. But Quartz still tried to be a good wife and listened to Azul's criticisms sometimes because she definitely felt like the dumb one in their arguments.

They still have a lot of petty arguments and they still fight over stupid things too. The arguments occurred more frequently at the end of their marriage.

"How did they part?"

I made a comic about that lol -> here

The comic actually has the "fusion" kid rather than Safira because this was before Safira and it has Quartzsona giving birth to her which I changed because of her lack of reproductive organs 😭

Safira's actual birth or how she came to be is ambiguous and who carried the baby is either Azul (🤯) or Quartz but no one really knows.

It might be Quartz because she took the baby first but we have no idea if she was pregnant 😭😭😭

But the baby was born and Quartz believed that the toxic environment she and Azul made would not be good for the baby, so she offered the divorce and Azul accepted.

Yes, it was a huge decision but Quartzsona had already given up the relationship for her kid and Azul was never in love with Quartz during the relationship until that day on Christmas eve.

It was a short and passing feeling when he saw Quartz walk away from the relationship but he felt a small longing for her. It wasn't anything crazy but he somehow described it as love since you don't miss people you don't love.

But he'll never say that out loud. It's too embarrassing even if it was just a small feeling.

On Quartz's side, she was only doing what she believed was best for them and the baby. Of course she'll miss him but she's willing to get over that. She'll struggle a little but she's willing to get through that.

During the conversation in the comic, you can see that Quartz is being understanding and still wants Azul to be part of the baby's life because he also loves that kid more than anything like her.

Quartzsona still wants her baby to have both parents in her life and is willing to work with Azul to raise her.

"After the divorce?"

As Quartz raised Safira, she started to process how much of an asshole Azul was and grew a strong resentment towards him. She sometimes gets carried away with her feelings and slips up infront of her kid

(THESE ARE REALLY OLD SO THIS IS THE FUSION KID but the same applies)

Azul doesn't really think about Quartz until he sees her dropping Safira off to him or when he's drunk. He's often really busy but he loves spoiling his kid and saying what his kid likes.

Azul's and Quartz's way of loving and teaching her is quite different. While Azul wants Safira to know that life is safe if Papa is there, Quartz wants to teach her that sometimes life is hard and we don't always get what we want.

They also both still argue and fight but they tone it down around Safira to not worry her.

Safira knows that her parents don't like eachother because why would two parents live in different households? As she grew older, she always tried to be the voice of reason when they fought but it really annoys her and WISHES for them to GET OVER IT IT'S BEEN YEARS

Yeah thats all I got

[killishin]

— ♡ let's rest.

pairing: clark kent x reader

category: fluff

content warning: not nsfw but there is a makeout session. not proofread.

a/n: first time writing clark, hope i didn't mess up. can't wait for david corenswet superman :)). enjoy everyone :D

dividers by @cafekitsune

the ring of the bell roused you from your nap, wearily opening your eyes as you got up from the couch on stumbling legs. truly all you wanted was a tiny nap, work went overtime and your eyes were just so heavy and tired.

and your mind was still a mush as you padded your way across the hall, grimacing at the knocks even though they were very soft, but they had woken you up. in your mind it hadn't even been that long, in your mind that is.

so when you see Clark on the other side of the door through the little peephole, your mind takes a second. why is he there....

oh shit.

your eyes widened as you slapped a hand on your mouth, as if to contain that embarrassed gasp. a date, you were supposed to go on a date with him. you silently groan to yourself, heat creeping up your cheeks as you wonder just how the hell are you supposed to face him.

you're still in your work clothes, all crumpled and askew and you don't even look at the mess of your hair.

well looks like you have no choice but to face the shame, you just hope it doesn't let him down so much that he backs off. you've spent way too much time crushing on him to let it all go to drain.

taking a deep breath, you pat down your hair and clothes, making yourself as presentable as it was possible before opening the door. there he stood, all adorable and nervous, his blue eyes widening and not in a horrified way— instead it was filled with warmth, even appreciation maybe.

"im really sorry—"

"im sorry—"

both of you paused, you furrowed your brows and tilted your head a bit, "clark you don't need to apologise for anything. its me who took too long of a nap." you catch the dial of his watch and mentally curse at the time. a simple thirty minutes nap had somehow turned to more than two damn hours.

he shook his head, his soft black curls moving with him in a way that made him even more boyishly cute. "i should have known you were tired from work— you had that scoop you were working on. i shouldn't have suggested a date on a friday."

your heart warmed at how even now he doesn't seem the least bit deterred by your state, moreover he's apologising. you breathed out a soft laugh as you rubbed your face.

"you're such a gentleman." and despite the blush that immediately coated his cheeks, he played it off with a smirk, "I'll leave you to get back to your nap then."

you groaned softly and shook your head, grabbing his forearm on instinct as you gently gave him a tug towards your apartment. "if uh— well if you don't mind waiting, i can get ready and we can still go?" you suggested hesitantly, your eyes peering up at him.

your touch alone shook the poor man so bad, he stilled as if his brain just shut down, his muscles flexing beneath your hand out of pure instinct. "yeah. no yeah sure— of course." he said, giving you a sheepish smile before holding the bouquet towards you, "they're getting heavy in my hands."

you huffed out a small chuckle as you took the bouquet and walked in, leaving the door open so he can step in. "you really didn't have to."

"but i wanted to." he said pointedly with an amused smile and you shook your head, "uh so you want anything? water or tea- coffee? i have beer too if you want— i think.." you muttered as you ducked your head and hurried to the kitchen, suddenly self conscious.

the image of him in your apartment, made everything seem much... smaller, and thats understandable given his insane height. though you were grateful the rest of your apartment wasn't as much of a mess as your room.

"no im fine. don't worry." he reassured as he cleared his throat, looking around not so subtly, as if his eyes were absorbing all little details to every part of his brain.

"alright. I'll— i won't take much time, i promise." you swore with an apologetic smile before rushing in your room and closing the door.

it took you long, sadly, but you really couldn't help but fret and mess up while hurrying. you had to pause to take a deep breath and not lose your shit, cus you ruined your liner. but he stayed patient nonetheless, not much rustling around. you felt bad for making him wait for so long but then buried it, its better to focus on making the night better than beating yourself up.

you rushed out with a nonchalant yet apologetic smile, clutching your purse between your arm and side while hastily putting on earrings. "im done im done!" you were pretending to be calm, and cool while internally you merely hoped even for a sliver of that blush on his cheeks in response to your attire.

"hey there's no hurry—" he paused as he turned around, his lips freezing momentarily before he gulped. the tip of his ears had reddened as he stepped forward, gently pushing your hand away and putting on your earrings for you.

his eyes seemed focused on your ear, yet you weren't unaware to how intense they looked, how his fingers twitched to touch— and they did, much against his restraint, his index brushed against the side of your neck. tracing down, so agonisingly slow that it left goosebumps in its wake, till it reached the juncture between your collarbone and neck.

"you look uh—" he cleared his throat as he stepped back, looking slightly jolted as he forced out a smile that looked tight for some reason, "..absolutely gorgeous." he sighed out with a smile, as if resigning himself to you.

"that– shit you really know how to make someone blush huh." you huffed out, jokingly, to breathe through the tension that was suddenly between you two, "but thank you." you smiled as you pushed a strand behind your ears, skin still tingling from his touch.

"let's go." you said as you took your purse in your hand and walked past him, his eyes following you. but he didn't move even as you got your keys.

"clark?" you called out softly, brows furrowing, and his brows raised a bit , as if not yet fully out of whatever trance he is trapped in his mind. "hm?"

"i said lets go?" you drawled out more slowly, "you okay?"

he took a deep breath slowly as he nodded before walking towards you. he gently grabbed your shoulder before turning you around, your eyes widening while your heart flipped. what is he—

"you didn't zip it all the way." he murmured quietly, and you realised how close he was, his breath brushing your ear in a way that made warmth pool in your stomach.

"oh."

you were sure you did though, still you felt his fingers glide across your skin as he pulled the zip up. and even after it was done, he didn't pull away, his hands glued to your back and shoulder. you could feel the tension sizzling in the air, you knew what you wanted, what he wanted— even without having to look at him.

"weren't you tired from work?" he hummed out, sounding a bit lost and absentminded. it was a shock how such an innocent voice could sound like... that. "we can have a date here. watch a movie or cook or... or whatever you want." the suggestion wasn't supposed to come out as suggestive as it did. and he couldn't find it in himself to care.

with a gulp you turned around, your eyes fliting from his to the collars of his shirt and idly fixed them— they needed no fixing. you couldn't bear the weight of his stare, the want in his eyes, the burn in it— it mirrored your own, if not more intense.

"i think I'd like that more." you whispered and his hands automatically snaked around your waist.

"yeah?" he hummed teasingly, and that boyish charm was somehow replaced by the this pleased look, so amused at how immediately you agreed. "wanna rest more?"

your eyes narrowed playfully as your hand rested flat on his chest, while the other caressed the side of his neck— just like he did, "i don't think rest is what you have in mind, mr. kent."

"oh i meant after what i had in mind."

and in a second he was on you, your back pushed against the wall while one of his hand was braced beside your head and the other gripped your waist tight. his lips clashed against yours fervently, needy and hungry— yet not so much in a hurry. he wanted to savour it, savour you. take his sweet time.

"if i had known we would end up like this i wouldn't have bothered taking so much time." you huffed out a breathy laugh, which immediately turned into a gasp as he showered kisses on your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot.

"and missed the chance to see you get dressed up for me?" he pulled away, only for a second to flash you a smirk before his hands hooked under your thighs and lifted you up. "not a fucking chance."

lets say you were wayyy too spent later on to even lift a finger, much less watch a movie or do anything. him on the other hand immediately went to cook you something real nice, cus it does smell nice.

"filling me up again for more hm?" you teased jokingly but he just looked at you with an innocent smile.

"of course."

"...."

"clark i can barely walk—"

reblogs are much appreciated! :D

[nerdygirlramblings]

more Adam, meeting Ren's family, setting up Simon's rut

a/n: getting to the best part of this idea arc is taking longer than anticipated. hopefully the rut and big talks next chapter 🤞🏻

cw: omegaverse biology (male pregnancy, ruts / knots), fluid sexuality

previous

Before you leave, you make sure to swing by the base admin building. The cold sterility of the grey hallways makes you sad, but Adam's desk near Price's office is always a ray of sunshine. He isn't at his desk, but his lemon cinnamon scent lingers and is perfectly accentuated by the succulents on the shelf. The space feels warm and bright despite being several halls away from a window. There are photos of several task forces tacked over the copy machine. The 141's photo is recent as you're in it, but you have no idea where it's from or how Adam has it.

He comes over as you're staring at the image. You point at it as he sits down and trip over yourself, asking, "Where is that from? How did you get it?"

He interrupts with a finger across his lips and whispers, "I never give away my secrets."

The train of thought barreling away seizes and you stop cold, a smile slowly breaking through. You chuckle and remember why you're here in the first place. "Hey, I wan'ed to thank ya for suggesting to Price I head home for leave."

He starts to wave off your thanks, but the words dry on his lips when you place a pint of Magnum Classic and two Flake bars next to his keyboard. He gives you a look of pure adoration as he stutters, "What in the...how did you know?"

You smile indulgently. "I listen, just like you do," you tell him with a wink. "Don't wait too long to eat that. 'S probably best if ya don't refreeze th' Magnum. And I know if ya try and wait 'til ya get home, Charlie will try an' steal it from ya." You couldn't count the number of times Adam told you about how he and his pack's alpha often fought over sweets around the house to the point where Bridget, the pack omega, kept separate stashes for them both. You loved hearing about Adam's pack. It made you miss your family a little less when he spoke about his.

Adam stands again and walks around the desk to where you are. He holds his arms open in invitation, and you step into the hug. He squeezes you tight for a moment before stepping back. Still holding your shoulders, he says, "Enjoy this time with your family. Be good. Have fun, but not too much. And come back safe, yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah, Adam. I'll be good." Your ride to town leaves soon, and then its a four-hour train ride home. If all the transportation runs on time, you'll be home for supper and can help Mum cook. You feel a little guilty about not letting Dad and the moms you're coming home, but you hope the surprise of your presence will make up for it.

The house doesn't look any different. The brick is a little more weather-beaten than when you joined up, but the shape of the house is unchanged. Three skinny stories with black shingles on top. The dormer windows on the third floor belie the open plan of that floor with the family nest along the back wall. That's where Dad is until the birth. From the curb, all you can see is the pale blue curtains. Somewhere in the back of the house, Mum is probably already starting on supper, Mama corralling your brothers and sisters.

You push the front gate open and step onto the flagstone walk. It cuts across a neat patch of green grass, though you notice the bikes tucked inside the front wall. Clearly with Dad on bed rest, your siblings are taking liberties with putting those in the garage.

Not for the first time, you second-guess the surprise of this visit. You know Mum and Mama won't say how worried they are about Dad and the litter, but you see it in their eyes when you call. Dad, too, teases about being on bed rest, but the last two losses weigh heavily on him.

You take a deep breath and knock. There's nothing for a few moments, but you hear scurrying behind the door and can imagine the triplets arguing about who gets to open it. Your middle siblings may or may not be home from uni, and if they are, they're not going to race for the door like the fifteen-year-olds. The door opens a crack and an eye peeks out. When it catchs sight of you, the owner squeals - must by Norah - and the door flings wide. "You're home!" Norah crows, throwing herself at you. "You're home! You're home!"

"I'm here," you echo, hugging her back. You look over her shoulder for the boys. Ben is making his way to you, but Davy isn't in sight. As he closes in, Ben pushes Norah out of the way and pulls you inside. "Mama was just going to call you," he says. "Or maybe she already called, since you're here?" You shake your head. "Anyway, the moms are going to take Dad to the birth centre-" Your gasp stops him mid-ramble, and his eyes go as wide as saucers. "Oh! No! They don't think this is bad. Mum said something about Dad's internal temperature increasing. They think the litter's ready."

You barely hear Ben's last words as you race to the back of the house and find Mama pacing the kitchen. She stops short when she sees you and flings herself into your arms. "Oh God, oh love, what are you doing here?" she half laughs, half cries, phone cradled in one hand.

"Had some leave coming and thought I'd surprise you. But it looks like I'm the one in fer a surprise!"

Mama's laughter is bright, light and happy. "Yes, you are. Mum's getting Dad's bag. They should be coming down now." She hugs you tight. "I know you just got here, but do you mind waiting here with the triplets?" she whispers into your hair.

Your laughter matches hers. "Not at all, Mama." You definitely owe Adam for suggesting you take leave and come home. You might have missed this otherwise. You shoo Mama to go grab some of her own things, listening for Mum and Dad on the stairs, while you pull together a small bag of waters and snacks for them. You toss in the crisps Mum hides but will want when she stress eats and the candy you know Dad will crave once he's allowed to eat again. You also put some healthy options in for all three otherwise Mama will scold the others the whole time and you do not want to induce that stress.

By the time the moms and Dad are in the front hall, you've pulled the car into the drive, put the snacks in the front seat, and opened all the doors. You help Mum get Dad comfortably into the back seat. Neither was as surprised to see you as you thought, so Mama must have given them a warning when she went to gather her things.

You kiss Dad's temple as you help him settle, then steady Mum with a squeeze to her hand. "Have ya called Michael or Helen yet?" you ask, leaning through the passenger side window. From the look Mama gives Mum you know they haven't. "I'll do it before you're out of the drive," you tell them. Mama puts the car in gear and backs out. You follow, shouting at them to keep you updated. You stand at the bottom of the drive long after their car disappears around the corner.

The team pack is pulling up to their house in the Lake District about the same time as your parents leave. Unlike your family's home in its neat little row on the outskirts of the city you grew up in, the pack's house sits on land nestled between the Irish Sea and the western edge of the Lake District. The cottage, or what was a quaint cottage before the pack expanded the buildings and outbuildings on the property, is a slight distance from any lakes or towns meaning they're fairly isolated. They're not entirely off the grid, but Laswell and Adam know not to reach them for the next week. They haven't told you to go no contact: though you aren't pack yet, none of them are ready to go more than a week without hearing your voice or seeing your face.

Price is already making plans for how long he'll give you before he reaches out to check in. His presence during Ghost's rut is more of a formality as the pack alpha. When they established themselves as a pack, Price's and Ghost's alpha-only ruts were rough. Both men bear a number of scars from the warring instinct to rut and to fight another alpha. Neither man was averse to a cock in his ass, but being bitched was another matter altogether, both alphas struggling to take the others' knot until they had first Gaz then Soap join the pack.

Price's role this week is making sure there is enough food and water for Ghost and whomever is helping him. There's a pallet of waters in the boot and a wholesale box of granola bars. While Soap and Gaz unpack the car, Price sets up the bed in the first floor master suite with protective pads. Price also makes up an air mattress in the second floor office. It's not comfortable, but for a handful of days, it's doable. He works hard not to think about his rut in a few months. How, if you're pack by then, he won't take his rut with Gaz or Soap but with you, sinking into your slick heat.

He knows Ghost's struggling with having you on the team but not part of the pack yet, which is why he brought a little treat for Ghost. As they rolled out of their barracks, Price grabbed the throw blanket from the rec room couch and shoved it into a plastic tote. It was a shared blanket, yes, but you'd been wrapping yourself up in it the last few days because the barracks were too cold for your omega. Despite your scent blockers keeping them from your true smell, there's a lingering scent of citrus from your toiletries. Any of them would recognize it. Price pulls the blanket out and leaves it in the middle of the master bed for Ghost, even though his own alpha growls and scratches about giving the scent of you away.

It's going to be a long week.

next

series masterlist | main masterlist

~~

taglist: @sirbonesly @z-wantstowrite @thriving-n-jiving @cecelia97 @theycallmevalen @boogeysmoth @cryingpages @riley13 @luxylucylou @lucienofthelakes @ilyztwo @chaosundcoffee @lostintransist @thegreyjoyed @honestlymassivetrash @thebumbqueen @maliamaiden @mordacioust

[spaceistheplaceart]

when the trailer for HL2VRAI first came out ppl were hoping for Mira to play alyx and while i dont really care who plays her, ive always wanted to animate something for the idea :)

Audio Source

ID UNDER CUT

BEGIN ID:

A black and white sketchy animatic.

Gordon looks down apologetically.

Gordon: "I-I dunno. I'll like, do something to make that up to y'all. Like, in real life-"

He looks up and smiles nervously.

Alyx shoves him. She has a bandana across her forehead, fingerless gloves, a short vest, and a ripped sleeveless hoodie. She grins deviously at him and pokes his chest.

Alyx: "Give me that flashlight! Drop it! Right now!"

She tries to yank the front panel off the HEV suit, shown through her vibrating rapidly as he fingers are curled under the plating. Benrey comes in from the left and puts a hand on Gordon's shoulder, staring at him. Benrey does not have a helmet and his shadow/hair covers half his head. He is wearing a jumpsuit and has a sparse mustache.

Benrey: "Yeah, give me everything you have.

Gordon bursts out laughing, causing Alyx and Benrey to fall back. Alyx grips the ladder next to them for balance. The camera zooms out to show they are in an alleyway with posters on the walls, the ladder, and a dumpster. Bubby is sitting on the dumpster.

Gordon puts his gun arm over his face like a facepalm and hands Benrey his crowbar.

Gordon: "Yes, sir!"

Gordon gives Alyx a pistol, which is shown through him 'holding' it out with his gun arm and a menu above them that shows his arsenal. He gives her the pistol, then a grenade.

Gordon: "Yes, sir!"

The grenade drops and explodes, resulting in an ear ringing sound effect. Bubby has his hands over his face and exclaims in pain. Coomer pokes his head out of the dumpster.

Gordon puts his head against the wall, bracing himself against it as Alyx laughs. Benrey is rubbing his eyes. There is an explosion mark between Alyx and Gordon, where the grenade dropped.

Cut to a little later. Alyx shoves Gordon to the ground.

Alyx: "Jump him! You got any change in your pockets?"

She looms over him then leans down, grinning and tauntingly cocking her head.

Alyx: "CHUMP? BITCH?"

An image of Pepe the Frog on the floor of a McDonalds, all his food spilled out pathetically with his eyes tearing up is shown- but edited so that it's wearing glasses and the HEV suit to resemble Gordon.

Gordon: "No-"

The Pepe image is gone, replaced with a drawing of Gordon on the ground, looking up as Alyx and Benrey's shadows come into view. His mouth is wobbly and he's got big wet pathetic eyes.

Alyx kicks Gordon while he lays down, Benrey smacks him with the crowbar. Laughing and hitting sound effects are heard.

The screen goes black for a second.

Alyx points forward, yelling with her hand on her hip.

Alyx: "HEY, GOON!"

It's shown that Alyx is speaking to Gordon, who has his arms dangling in front of him and looking up at Alyx wimpily. They are in a junkyard. Alyx jabs her thumb to the right.

Alyx: "Go find me some scrap!"

Gordon sulks off.

Gordon: "Yes, ma'am."

Alyx crosses her arms with a smug smile as Coomer laughs in the background.

END ID

[jaylaxies]

HARD THOUGHT !

pairing: jake x fem!reader

cw: smut, daddy kink, manipulation, corruption kink, usage of nicknames.

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

a/n: hihi i got a lil carried away w this one! it’s inspired by these two asks here and here! :3 reposting this cause it got community labelled!

Jake is sweet, almost too sweet to be true and that’s why you trust him blindly with everything. The way he never hesitates to give you prolonged hugs, the way his eyes always provide you with comfort and his words sound like sweet melody to you, it’s a given fact that you won’t want anyone else to teach you how to kiss but your best friend Jake, you simply want to be good for your crush, Heeseung, and so you most certainly didn’t wish to be totally clueless when it comes to such things.

Jake was more than willing to help, “of course i'll help, we don’t want Heeseung to be unsatisfied now, do we?” He’d chuckle, hating the fact that you wanted to do it for another man, yet he had his own ways to keep you close to him, one being-providing you help for his own benefit. “But Jake, won’t it be wrong if I use you for this?” You’d ask, genuine concern plastered on your face and he finds it cute how you think it’s you who’s using him, when in reality, it’s quite the opposite.

“Oh, princess. You don’t have to worry about it, I just want to help you,” he’d smile, making you feel at ease as he starts proceeding with his plan, the first step—kissing.

He’d pat his lap, making your eyes go wide but you’d follow and sit on his lap, straddling him on the couch as his big hands would hold you in place and he’d ask you to kiss him, smiling when you lean in for a delicate peck, groaning when he bites your lip, eliciting a weak moan out of you.

“Jake—” you’d whimper, unknowingly pressing your clothed cunt on his hardening cock, feeling a newfound feeling erupt in your lower abdomen, even more so when he cups your cheek, tilting your face to get a better access to your lips, his plush ones serenading you like there’s no tomorrow, “that’s not what you should call me, princess,” he mutters.

Your eyes widen, looking up at him in question, “Heeseung would love it if you call him daddy,” he smirks, “say it, baby.” He’d urge you, throwing Heeseung’s name to strengthen his case. “D—daddy?” You’d whisper, allowing him to caress your swollen lips. “That’s right, princess. You’re such a good girl for me.” He makes sure to take his time kissing you dumb that night, to the point you lose your sleep, clutching your chest as the vivid images of Jake come back to your mind, you wanted more.

And each day, he taught you more, touching the expanse of your body, getting rid of your clothes turn by turn. The wetness returned each time you tried something new with him, your body felt as if it was on fire as he pushed you into your subspace in all the right ways.

“Daddy!” You moaned, gripping the bed sheet when he tasted your wetness for the first time, his warm breath made it tingle to the point you were shivering. “That’s it babygirl, just trust daddy, yeah?” He said against your folds, accent deeper than ever as he immersed himself in eating you out, giving you your very first orgasm.

You were dazed, wanting more and more. Then came the day you finally saw his cock, his eyes staring at you with such intensity as you could only look at his veiny, leaking cock with innocent and curious eyes.

He grunted when you held him, “you’re doing so well, princess. So good for daddy,” he lets out, holding the back of your head gently as you continued to do just as he directed, smiling once he fills your mouth as his thick cum spurts out on your tongue, making you want to gulp it down, “wanna be so good for daddy always.” You’d smile, forgetting about why you were doing this in the first place, Heeseung wasn’t the one you thought about these days, rather, it was your daddy Jake.

“Tell me what you want, princess?” He’d ask with a sweet smile, which almost looked like a smirk, “daddy,” you’d cry out, “want y—your cock in m—me, I can't wait anymore,” you’d tell him as he’d kiss your tears away, “daddy will give you everything you want, babygirl,” he’d pat your head lovingly despite being in such a compromising position, his tip rubbing on your entrance. He doesn’t rush, he loves seeing you squirm, blabbering out words which do not make sense just because you’re so enraptured by the man on top of you—your daddy who’s more than willing to provide you with everything you need.

He loves it, how fucked up his princess looks with her smudged lipstick and mascara running down her cheeks with her crystalline teardrops, which keep on flowing with the immense pleasure you receive. He loves that he’ll get to fuck you, that his cock will be the first to enter your prettiest cunt, which is his and his only. You were reliant upon him for pleasure, nothing else felt good without your daddy and when he finally gave you the taste of his cock buried deep in your pussy, it felt more pleasurable than it hurt.

“Daddy—” you whisper, eyes closing as you let him take over and kiss you, his hands all over your body, as if he had memorized you completely, touching the most sensitive spots as he thrusted even harder in your leaking pussy, your walls squeezing his cock to the point he couldn’t help but groan out, “so wet for daddy’s cock, yeah? You like it, baby? That’s my good fucking girl, all mine.” He’s right, you’re all his now and you won’t want it otherwise, making a creamy mess on his cock.

Your mind fuzzy with his thoughts through and through, ruining your innocence as he moulded your brain in such a way that you couldn’t help but yearn for him.

And just like that, Jake had successfully corrupted you to the point of no comeback.

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