#Blue trainer socks

[misiahasahardname]

i found a photo of me in the hospital after my first seizure and i am wearing the most HORRENDOUS combination of clothing imaginable 😭😭

thinking of redrawing it with mikey because epileptic 2012 mikey is real

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

Modern AU versions of Tintin and his friends! Notes about their designs under the Read More:

Tintin - A grey and yellow baseball tshirt references his grey sweatervest and yellow shirt look from the earlier comics. Cargo joggers replace his plus fours - plus fours were popular with golfers in the 20s and 30s as athletic wear, so I opted for cargo joggers for that preppy but sporty vibe. He also wears leather trainers and keeps his handy phone in an industrial case. Snowy wears a collar now!

Haddock - when not working on a ship as a merchant captain he opts for a hoodie and sweatpants. He might look sloppy but it's pretty practical for the wild adventures he's dragged into! He's Tintin's exhausted foster father in this AU.

Calculus - I gave him 2000s style rectangular frames to make him feel modern but still kind of dated, like how he wears fashion a few decades behind in the canon comics. I dressed him like my high school physics teachers - he has a necktie, a pocket protector, a zip through fleece and orthopedic shoes. I had frames like these for some time until I broke them at work lol

Chang - as soon as I read the Blue Lotus and saw Chang for the first time I immediately thought he was wearing crocs. I don't know why crocs are so popular. I don't think they're particularly comfortable. They feel sweaty and weird and don't stay on your feet when you run. I don't get crocs. But they're popular in Asia lol (I kept Chang's design super simple, he's an orphan with no money)

Abdullah - I had way too much fun with him! I know Supreme is kinda dated now (it's definitely a 2016 thing) but I still find it funny and the colour scheme fits. A lot of local Muslim teenagers in my area mix sportswear with traditional clothing so I did the same here, but made it obnoxiously bougie lol

Zorrino - I didn't change much for him as his original design is pretty timeless. I gave him socks and slides, a beanie and joggers. His button up shirt is replaced with a polo shirt but the difference isn't big.

[seaquestions]

making pokemikus based on ur fav pokemon: pachimiku & kuromiku! ⚡🐿️☠️🦇

[ID: image 1: a drawing of hatsune miku as a pachirisu-themed pokemon trainer. her hair is based on pachirisu's squirrel tail. she's wearing an athletic outfit, a blue and yellow racer jumpsuit with the legs cut short, a patterned belt, yellow socks of different length and white shoes. she's holding a quick ball. there's pachirisu official art next to her. image 2: a drawing of miku as a crobat-themed pokemon trainer. her hair is purple and her twintails look like bat wings. she's wearing a variation of her regular sleeveless shirt with a purple checkered jacket, flared pants with a floral pattern accenting the bottom, platform boots & fingerless gloves. there's crobat official art next to her. End ID]

[hardwriterdeluxe]

Second Life

I’ve been were busy recently and haven’t had time to write and I’ve also had writers block, I wanna thank @chavdrone and @kaithescallylad for inspiring me to write this story! ________________________________________________

Oliver was walking home from a friend towards the bus stop when he noticed a new shop. He had been around this part of London many times and had never seen this store before. Its dusty storefront displayed many different styled mannequins in attempts to be trendy, but they just ended up cheesy. Oliver looked at the store and read the half-broken neon sign, “Second life”; it was a second-hand shop. Oliver had time to kill, so he took the opportunity to check the store. It was open, and he went in. He was met by a large arrangement of racks with clothes and shelves; he didn't know where to start. The store seemed to be empty of any customers, and the checkout was empty as well, so Oliver just went around browsing for potential items.

Oliver was your average guy. He studied at some college in London he had recently turnt 20 and described by his nerdy characteristics: brown overgrown hair, glasses, a lanky build, and an normal clothing style. It was out of character for Oliver to blink twice at the White Nike trainers he just passed. His body felt drawn towards the pair, and even though the pair were size 11s and his feet were size 9, he felt obliged to try them on. He grabbed them and went towards a dressing room, not finding any other mirror or place to sit; he went there. Oliver removed his boots and put on the White Nike Tns. At first, he felt amused seeing these large, comically-looking sneakers on his feet, but that soon changed. The sneakers quickly started feeling moist, wet, and they were smelling; he was confused. Becoming uncomfortable, he quickly tried to yank off the sneakers, but to no avail, they were simply stuck, and the size gap weirdly felt snug.

Unbeknownst to Oliver, Second Life wasn't just an ordinary second-hand shop; no, it was a store offering a new life. Each item dropped off by the last owner transferred their essence into the new owner, ultimately forming a second life for the customer. Oliver's body started to change, and his height increased; his body frame started filling out, his lanky arms becoming toned, and his stomach gaining the outlines of some abs. His body gained a lean look, and his body started to emit the same smell his sneakers had; ultimately, exuding masculinity mixed with a new fragrance coming from his body, some cheap Axe deodorant and cologne. Oliver's face started changing; Oliver originally had slim and feminine features, a round nose and jaw, and a kind-looking face. That dramatically changed as his jaw started to square up, some stubble growing in, and his mouth gaining a stupid expression, a stupid grin. His nose swelled up and got crooked from all the fights he "supposedly" had gone through, and his eyes squinted up as well as his brow ridge squared up, his eyebrows becoming full and dark, and his ears becoming pierced. Oliver's hairstyle went from his long hair to a short-styled fade.

Oliver's clothes disintegrated all but his underwear that changed into some blue Nike boxers, as well as his bulge growing to accommodate his new length and foot size. Oliver's body started getting new clothes as a black football tracksuit materialized on him, the pants tucked into his socks, and he ultimately got a chain around his neck, finalizing his new look.

The last step was his mental state; Oliver's mind adjusted to his new persona and changed him into Ozzy, a 20-year-old British chav. Ozzy didn't go to college like those fancy shits; instead, he spent his days hanging with his brothers and working for some money. Gone was Oliver, and the world around him had erased Oliver for good. The store owner watched the whole change back in the storage, checking out another happy customer.

[immortalmrwavell]

Adam and Mr Wavell

(Written for @transformee) (Original story posted September 27th 2021) This story has been significantly Updated!

It’d started like any other normal day for Adam. He got up out of bed. Got himself some breakfast. Headed out for work. The usual routine that he’d long since gotten used to. Being an engineer certainly wasn’t the worst job in the world. In fact Adam found it rather rewarding sometimes and the pay was decent enough. If anyone were to ask, Adam would say he was satisfied with his life. And that was half true. Sure he was content with the life he had now. He couldn’t exactly complain about having a stable job that allowed him to live somewhat comfortably. Yet despite that Adam always kinda wished his lifestyle was a tad bit… different.

Each and every day when Adam opened one of his social media’s, his feed would practically be flooded with men who were smoking hot and jacked as fuck. And most of these men pretty much got paid just for looking as incredible as they do. Whether that be as a personal trainer, model, an actor or even in porn! These men got paid to look sexy as fuck and show it off. It sounded like a dream!

In all honesty It was that sort of lifestyle Adam wished he would have strived for instead. He wasn't a bad looking dude by any means. He believed he was pretty handsome, just a little out of shape was all. Mostly due to how he was never able to really push himself into working out or dieting properly. And for the longest time Adam thought he was okay with that. Deep down however, part of him always wished he’d led the same lifestyle as those fit hunks he saw online.

Being in his thirties now Adam had started to believe that perhaps a lifestyle like that just wasn’t for him. Since then he’d tried to just make peace with the fact that he was just an average looking dude working a normal job. That was until he arrived home later that evening and everything changed.

Adam unlocked the front door before stepping into his home. Letting out a long sigh of relief as he closed it behind him.

“Home at last I see.”

Adam almost jumped out his skin as he whipped around to see a man sat in a chair across the room.

“W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!?” Adam bellowed at the man in a panic. His brain was already cycling at a hundred miles a minute trying to think of the best course of action. Grab a weapon? Call the police? And yet while Adam was freaking out, the gentleman sitting in his house seemed completely unfazed.

With a smirk the man stood up from his seat, allowing Adam to get a better look at him. From what Adam could tell, the man looked to be in his early forties, late thirties at the youngest. He had short brown hair along with a nicely trimmed beard to match, the latter of which had a few flecks of silver running through it. As for his body, he looked to be just about 6 feet tall, if a tiny bit less. In terms of his build, the man seemed relatively lean with very little fat or muscle. As for his clothes, he wore a navy blue suit jacket over a white button up shirt along with a navy dotted tie. These were contrasted by a pair of tan khaki pants which were held firmly in place by a brown belt. Lastly his feet were clad in a fairly large pair of dark brown dress shoes along with a pair of black dress socks. An ordinary business casual look but this man seemed to be anything but ordinary.

(Original Version of Mr Wavell here)

“You don’t need to be afraid Adam. I’m here to help you.” The mysterious man claimed in a way that probably sounded more ominous than intended. Despite it he began to step towards Adam.

“N-no… how do you know my name? I don’t know you!” Adam panicked as he moved backwards to keep his distance until his back was against the front door. He was about to reach for the handle and run outside until suddenly… he felt calm? Safe even? It was as if all of his natural danger sense had turned themselves off in favor of wanting to trust the stranger before him.

“No you don’t know me. But I know you Adam. I’ve been watching you for a little while now. Looking into your mind. Reading your desires.” The suited stranger’s voice was oddly soothing, so much so that Adam hardly even noticed his eyes glowing deep purple for a moment. “You may refer to as Mr Wavell” He revealed, the very name sending shivers up Adam’s spine for reasons unknown. “And for what I’m doing here? Well… I’m just looking for entertainment I suppose.” Wavell shrugged nonchalantly.

He went on to explain that he had… abilities. Abilities that allowed him to do things thought to be impossible. Despite the inexplicable wave of calm and trust that’d washed him moments ago, Adam couldn’t bring his rational mind to believe the man. Afterall he was talking about having magical powers like some kind of wizard! But before Adam had a chance to protest, he found himself frozen in both wonder and fear as Mr Wavell began to float off the ground.

“I must reiterate that I’m here to help, not hurt you.” Wavell said, noting the bewildered look on Adam’s face. “I can give you any life that you desire. Allow you to become whoever you choose. What do you say?” He boldly claimed, floating down until he stood directly beside Adam, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Adam was still frozen stiff. Was he dreaming? Was this actually real??

“Oh come on. You know this is a privilege right? It’s not everyday that I actually reveal my physical self to the people I help.” Wavell said, leaning forwards with a small smirk. That of course only left more questions in Adam’s mind.

The mysterious man went on to explain in further detail what exactly he could do for Adam. He could alter reality to change Adam’s past choices in order to create a new and better present. He could transform Adam’s body right here on the spot into anything Adam desired. Muscle growth, increase of height, bigger dick? All things that Adam’s rational mind wouldn’t have believed to be possible had it not been for the obvious display of real magic he’d just witnessed. However there was one option that caught Adam’s ear. Stealing the life and body of someone else. As confused and scared as Adam was right now, he couldn’t help but be curious and even slightly aroused at the mere idea of it.

“O-okay…” Adam mumbled meekly. “I want your help…”

Wavell clapped his hands together with a large grin. “Perfect! Now there are many different ways I can do this.” He began, sounding almost a little too enthusiastic about it all. “I can switch your soul with another person. Your soul in their body and theirs in your body. I could transform you and this other person into one another. You transform into him and vice versa. You get it.” Wavell laid out the options as if he were about to have Adam choose one. “However I’ve already picked out another more interesting method for you. So all I want you to do is pick someone.”

Adam thought for a moment. If this was real then this could be one of the biggest decisions of his life. But surely there was some kind of monkey‘s paw right? “What’s the catch?” He asked, finally putting on a brave face.

The magical imbued stranger raised an eyebrow to Adam. “There isn’t one. You don’t owe me a thing. Honestly!” Wavell stepped back and put his hands up. “I’m doing this because I love it. It’s what I do. Hopefully once it’s all over you’ll enjoy it just as much as I.” Wavell lowered his hands before placing them on his hips. “Now. Is there anybody you have in mind who perhaps you’d like to become?”

Adam thought for a moment. He wasn't sure. This was just so surreal it made it hard to think. Like a fog clouding his thoughts. “I don’t… know?”

“Don’t worry. I get you’re probably still trying to wrap your mind around all this so I’ll do you a favor.” Wavell gently placed a hand on Adam's head and closed his eyes. Immediately Adam felt strange. As if he could feel this man’s fingers shuffling through his mind. Feeling out his wants and desires until Wavell got a decent idea of the kind of body to put Adam in. He took his hand away from Adam’s head. “I think I know just the guy but he’s not exactly close. He lives up in Virginia while you’re here in Georgia. How would you feel about a little change of scenery?”

“What do yo—“ before Adam could finish, the world around him spun and shifted.

———

Chris found himself standing alone in the locker room at his local gym. It was just about closing time now and he was the last guy remaining other than staff. He wiped away the sweat that’d been dripping down his face with a towel as he grabbed his stuff out of the locker. It’d been another tough workout for him today but it was always worth it to feel that pump and admire the physique he’d been able to build thanks to all his hard work. Unbeknownst to him however, a certain two individuals watched on behind a veil of magic that cloaked them both from sight..

Moments prior, Adam and Wavell arrived at the gym via the latter’s unique abilities. In a gust of purple smoke, Adam went from standing by his front door to now finding himself standing inside a gym locker room that didn’t seem at all familiar.

“H-H-Hoolyyy… FUCK! What just HAPPENED!?” Adam shouted hysterically.

“Basic teleport.” Wavell replied swiftly and bluntly as if that should’ve been common knowledge. “Don’t worry about that. Look.” Wavell nodded towards the entrance to the locker room, prompting Adam to look as well.

Mere seconds after, a sweaty muscular man wearing a tight tank top and shorts entered. He was in phenomenal shape. Far better than Adam was. Not only did he look sculpted with thick muscle from head to toe, but this hunk even had one of the most handsome faces to go along with it. Yet despite all the starring Adam and Wavell were doing, the jock seemed to pay no mind to either of them. Not even a glance. Like he didn’t even know they existed!

“I’ve made us invisible to him. He can neither see nor hear us.” Mr Wavell confirms to Adam. Right on cue this man they now seem to be spying on walked directly past them both without a clue. As he does Adam gets a good whiff of the stud's powerful post workout scent, turning the semi he got just from looking at the man into a full hard on. The pair continued to watch as the man opened up his locker and pulled out a towel to wipe himself down with.

“His name is Chris. He’s twenty eight years old and has been working out most of his life. Hence the gorgeous physique. And to top it off he’s quite the looker. Needless to say his body and looks have awarded him a lot. Modeling opportunities. A large following on social media. An army of men and women alike drooling over him and eager to throw money at him. He’s one lucky bastard.” The warlock explained, seeming to possess a bottomless well of knowledge. “I’d ask how you feel about him but I think I already know the answer.” Wavell sniggered as he glanced down at the bulge in Adams pants.

Adam’s face turned a bright shade of red as he tried to hide his growing arousal with little success. He couldn’t help it as his eyes traced over the glistening sweaty physique of the hunky god before him. Watching intently as the man removed his tank top to reveal the muscle that’d been hidden underneath.

“So… are you gonna turn me into… him?” Adam gulped, trying his best not to drool at the mere thought of it as he watched the man peel off the tank top. His cock getting even more excited at the reveal of Chris’ muscled upper body.

Wavell simply nodded.

“Does that mean you’re gonna turn him into me?” Adam wondered.

Wavell crossed his arms and hummed. “Not exactly. Normally I would but I’ve got something different in mind today.” Wavell confessed as the blank look on his face slowly turned to a sadistic looking grin that left Adam feeling a bit nervous for Chris’ fate. But the magical being was quick to notice this, his look softening again to one of reassurance. “And before you ask, no I’m not going to kill him or anything like that. He’ll be perfectly fine.”

Hearing that set Adam’s mind at ease. That said he was however rather curious to see what Wavell was planning. What exactly was he gonna do to this Chris guy?

It was then that Wavell’s eyes glowed that bright purple once more. At first Adam didn’t realise what Wavell had done until…

“Hey… Where the hell did you guys come from?” Chris asked as he turned to see two men staring at him from across the locker room. It was like they’d just appeared out of thin air.

Wavell stepped forward, straightening his tie as he did “Oh I just know you’re gonna enjoy this body Adam.” He declared, running his gaze up and down Chris’ body. Lingering on those enormous thighs and juicy pecs.

At this point Chris was getting super creeped out and understandably so. “What the fuck are talking about dude!? Are you trying to hit on me or something?” He questioned, quickly getting annoyed at how this dude was eyeing him up like a piece of meat.

It was then in the blink of an eye that Wavell stood inches away from Chris. It seeing a real life glitch as Wavell instantly moved from halfway across the room to his face being less than a ruler's length away from Chris. He barely had time to think let alone act before Wavell grabbed one of his boulder-like shoulders. Suddenly Chris was completely immobilised thanks to Wavell’s magic. And with that the aforementioned wizard slipped his other hand down in Chris’ gym shorts before cupping his crotch. Loving how Chris’ cock and balls pressed tightly against the pair of white compression shorts he wore underneath.

“Don’t worry big guy. I promise you won’t even feel a thing.” An ominously reassuring smile spread across Wavell’s face as his eyes glowed once more. It was then that a bright flash of light enveloped both him and Chris, forcing Adam to cover his eyes. It only lasted a couple of seconds but when the light dissipated, Chris was nowhere to be seen. The only things left of the hunk were his clothes as the gym shorts he’d been wearing fell to the floor atop of the now empty pair of socks and trainers. Meanwhile those white compression shorts Chris had been wearing were still in Wavell’s hand, the warlock holding them gently now as he inspected them for whatever reason.

Chris had no idea what just happened. That weird middle aged looking dude just grabbed him and now all of a sudden he felt so light and… hollow? The first thing he saw was the smirking face of that dude again only now it was from a lower angle, as if he were being held by the man and looked down upon. Yet as bizarre as that was, he couldn’t ignore the strong smell that seemed identical to his own crotch. Only now it surrounded him completely. Somehow Chris was able to shift his gaze in order to look down at himself and what he saw was unreal. Not just unreal, it was impossible and terrifying! No longer did he see the thick muscular body he was used to seeing. In fact he didn’t see a human body at all! He’d been turned into the very same pair of white compression shorts he’d been wearing! He could even feel the creepy dude’s hand against the fabric of the compression shorts as if it were his own skin! He wanted the scream in horror but nothing came out thanks to his lack of a face. It was only thanks to magic that he could still see and hear.

“This’ll do just fine.” Wavell said before turning to Adam who was still looking on in confusion. “I’ve trapped him inside these shorts he was wearing. I’ve made it so he can still see, hear, feel, taste and smell with his spiritual senses in there but besides that he’s completely helpless.” Wavell explained with a tad too much enjoyment. “Now all you’ve got to do is put him on and everything he had will become yours.”

Wavell instructed Adam to strip down. The latter hesitated for a moment but did but nervously did as he was asked. Afterwards not being able to help feeling a little embarrassed with how exposed he felt but Wavell didn’t seem to mind. The warlock handed the enchanted compression shorts over to Adam with a mischievous smile, clearly excited to see what was to come.

Chris was unsurprisingly freaking the fuck out as Adam took the shorts. Between what’s happened to him and hearing what Wavell had just said, he was having a complete meltdown. He didn’t want this Adam guy to take over his life!? Unfortunately his cries fell on deaf ears. He was powerless to stop it. Unable to do a single thing as Adam gently slipped his legs into the compression shorts one at a time before pulling them up. Chris protested all he could but it made no difference as Adam pulled Chris’ hollow fabric body over his ass and crotch.

As insane as this whole situation was, Adam couldn’t help shivering with delight. Knowing he was not only wearing compression shorts that belonged to such a hunk but also that same hunk was trapped inside them! He knew it was wrong and twisted of him to get satisfaction out of this but he couldn’t help it! Even though the shorts were a bit ill fitting on him, just having that jock’s musk surrounding his own crotch was turning him on like hell!

“So, how long will it ta-aaaakeeeuuuuaahhhhhhh” Adam’s question quickly devolved into a long groan thanks to an unfamiliar sensation that began racing through his body! Flooding every vein in his body with levels of magical energy his brain found difficult to comprehend. And then it began.

Before anything else the energy began to focus on Adam’s glutes. His groans became even louder as his ass cheeks started to tone and expand with muscle until it had ballooned into a thick muscle ass that filled out the backside of his new compression shorts perfectly. The feeling of which had Adam’s already hard cock leaking pre-cum that stained the front of said shorts. And yet despite it being at full mast, Adam could feel his cock somehow growing longer and fatter too! His bulge grew even more obvious by the second while his balls swelled larger as well to accommodate. His nuts now churned with the very same cum Chris once had.

Through all his groaning Adam was able to look down at his crotch and over his shoulder to see that he now had Chris’ cock and ass! And as his hips resized, the haunted compression shorts now fit him like a glove. Meanwhile Chris himself was soaring through a flurry of emotions as he begged to wake up from whatever nightmare he was trapped in. He could feel himself being stretched out across his out muscle butt while the taste of cum soaked into his fabric. Unfortunately for him, this was very very real.

From there the transformation continued to spread outwards and it progressed both up and down Adam’s body. His quads and hamstrings found themselves bulking up significantly, causing a soft grunt to escape Adam’s lips as he grew a set of meaty thunderous thighs. Simultaneously his eyes widened with disbelief as the fat on his belly started to melt away before his eyes, replacing itself with pure muscle mass in the form of strong thick abs. The kind Adam could’ve only dreamed of having. Every part of him wanted to stop and admire his new bulky thighs and abs but the transformation was far too impatient to give him the time.

Next up were his calves. He could feel them pulsing as they swelled with power to match his thighs. But they weren’t the real show. How could they be when Adam was far too absorbed into watching his flabby chest transform into a huge pair of pecs! It was something he’d always dreamed of. Being able to look down and see a hulking pair of muscle tits. And now it's finally becoming a reality! Adam’s eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and lust as he watched his chest begin to protrude outwards. His engorged cock growing more excited than ever as his pecs inflated into two gorgeous watermelons. He already wanted nothing more than to grope them and if he hadn’t felt the transformation beginning to surge through his arms, he would’ve.

But before his arms could have their glory, his shoulders exploded with mass first. Growing in an almost cartoony fashion as they transformed into cannonballs while his traps made sure to follow suit. With that, Adam’s biceps couldn’t wait any longer. He flexed them with a long moan as ballooned under the pressure, swelling to massive proportions with unthinkable strength. Soon after his forearms followed the same example as veins began popping like crazy across his bulging arms.

What came next however felt distinctly different from everything else. His hands and feet. They were a totally different experience but still painless nonetheless. His feet were the first to change. Increasing size after size at a rapid rate that certainly would’ve made his shoes feel tighter had he not taken them off. His hands weren’t far behind though as they too grew slightly. The more noticeable change however was how much rougher and calloused they became.

At last Adam’s body seemed complete but there was one last thing to change. As soon as the transformation had spread up his neck, causing it to thicken and his voice to deepen, his head was all that was left.

Adam gritted his teeth and scrunched his face as his features began to twist and alter themselves. Immediately he started to look younger than before as he regressed from his mid thirties back to his late twenties. His face quickly brgan taking on a much more jockish look as he started to look less and less like himself and more like Chris. To top it off his hair morphed into Chris’ messy brown style while his eyes shifted more towards Chris’ soft yet still masculine ones. Finishing things off by having Chris’ short brown beard sprout across Adam’s now much sharper jawline.

At last the intense sensation subsided. Adam was finally able to catch his breath as sweat dripped down his transformed physique. He looked down at himself in disbelief. It didn’t seem real but… he now owned the body of a total fucking hunk! He simply couldn’t help himself as he flexed his new massive guns, taking turns feeling them with each hand. Feeling the power flowing through his biceps as he flexed them was something else entirely. And of course he couldn’t ignore the huge new muscle titties that sat on his chest now. He was groping and flexing them too in no time. It’d be a crime not to worship them. With the excitement of it all, Adam also couldn’t help but dig his nose into his new sweaty pits to get a good whiff of that post workout scent he’d adopted from Chris.

“See. I always know what’s best for my clients.” Wavell sniggered. Adam was so enthralled by his new body that he’d almost forgotten Wavell was there.

“Clients?” Adam questioned, a little shocked by the sound of his new voice.

“Well… ‘clients’ sounds better than ‘subjects’.” The warlock admitted cheekily. “Now! I’m sure you’ve already got questions and I’m pretty certain I know the first one. Are you gonna turn back to normal if you take those compression shorts off? Well allow me to reassure you in saying no.” Wavell confirmed what Adam was bound to ask. “When I trapped Chris inside those shorts, I also sealed his physical essence inside them. Now that you’ve worn them however, that physical essence is inside you. Permanently. So you’ll never have to worry about losing your new body. By all means it belongs to you now. Besides… I’m sure you want to get a better look at what’s underneath.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows while glancing down at the obscene bulge in Adam’s shorts.

Adam turned and strutted over to one of the many locker room mirrors, cock bouncing awkwardly as he did. Immediately upon seeing his reflection Adam was awestruck. He was in love. With himself!! He just couldn’t help admiring his muscles some more before eventually grabbing the waistband and pulling down his haunted shorts. The real Chris screams in protest as he finds himself dropping to this imposter's ankles.

“Oh… Fuuuuuuuccck…” Adam muttered as his new cock flopped out before him in all its glory. His hand practically gravitated towards it before wrapping around the girthy shaft. God it was massive. He was almost afraid to start pumping it since after all that transforming, it felt like it was ready to blow at any second! The sensitivity on it was just through the roof! But Adam couldn’t help himself and ended up giving it a few tugs. In turn he found himself letting out a deep manly groan before, allowing the monster to buck involuntarily for a moment.

Before he ended up busting a nut, Adam’s decided he wanted to get a better look at his new glutes first as he turned his backside to the mirror. He just loved how big and bubbly his cheeks looked. When he flexed them they were as hard as steel but relaxed they felt squishy and jiggly. Part of him wished he could stuff his face into his own ass with how good it looked. That’s when another thought sprung to mind. Adam gently reached back towards his ass, squeezing it a little before slipping a finger between his cheeks as a way to test something. And it was just as he thought. The moment his finger came anywhere near his new asshole it immediately tightened on instinct. The reflex was so strong that it pretty much confirmed Chris used to be straight. Well not anymore. This ass was far too hot to go to waste.

As much as he wanted to tease his virgin ass a little more, Adam just couldn’t ignore his cock any longer. It was pulsing and begging for release at this point. He needed to grab it! He needed to jerk it! He needed to bust a fuckin nut bro! As Chris would say anyway. But before he could begin pumping, Wavell chirped up yet again.

“How about you let me take care of that for you. Just think of it as your way of thanking me.” Wavell licked his lips as sauntered over towards Adam before kneeling in front of that massive cock. Wavell opened his mouth before wrapping his lips around Adam’s meaty dick and began sucking like a pro.

“Oouh-ooooh… ooauhh… Oohhhhuuu!” Adam was completely taken aback as he was forced to let out disjointed moans once again. All the while his new voice echoed through the locker rooms. Just the view of being able to look down and now only see such a hot jock body as his own but also seeing this hot older man sucking him off was beyond sexy. Wavell swiftly bobbed his head up and down on the cock, somehow taking Adam’s entire length without even the slightest gag. Whoever the hell this Mr Wavell guy was, he certainly knew how to work those bearded lips of his around a huge cock. That’s for fucking for sure.

“Fuuuuuck!! I’m gonna… OOOAAUUHHH!!“ Adam Could feel it already. A tsunami of cum getting ready to spew from his dick. Before he’d even laughed Wavell was already grabbing onto Adam’s ass to make sure he didn’t try and pull away. But of course Adam had no plans on doing as his dick finally let loose torrents of hot cum that down Wavell’s throat. The older man gulped it all down greedily, sucking every last drop of cum out of Adam’s cock before finally pulling off it, a bit of cum dribbling down his beard.

“Ahhhhhhhh…” Wavell leaned back with a look of pure satisfaction crossing his face. “Now that was refreshing. I can confirm that your new cum tastes absolutely delicious.” Wavell confessed as he got back up onto his feet. He dusted himself off a little before readjusting his suit and tie. “Well it seems my work here is done. Chris’ memories should start to kick in for you in about 10 minutes from now. You’ll then know everything you need to know about his life. Where your new home is, how he earns money, what kinds of friends he keeps. And whatever else you need to play out his life as if it were your own.” Wavell looked down at the tight compression shorts Adam had begun pulling back up. “And the real Chris gets to watch everything from between your legs… or from the laundry basket.” He chuckled.

With that Wavell began to levitate off the ground once again. “I’m off to have some more fun. Enjoy that hunky new body of yours Adam. Or should I call you Chris? That is your new name now after all.” Mr Wavell grinned knowing just how much the real Chris was begging to be set free. “Keep your eyes open though. I might come back and visit you again some day just to check in.” And just like that the magical man seemingly disappeared into thin air, leaving Adam alone.

Finally alone at last, Adam looked down at the compression shorts that now cling tightly to his hulking body. “Enjoying yourself down there? Being pressed against your own dick and balls?” Adam teased somewhat cruelly, enjoying this a little more than he probably should be right now. Going as far as to reach down and grope his crotch to really rub the scent in.

This whole time Chris had been screaming and protesting as this body snatcher groped his body and even more so when he’d got his dick sucked by another dude! But now as the scent of his former cock and balls mixed with cum and sweat started to mess with Chris’ fragile mind, he was starting to give in at last. His thoughts grew foggier while his fabric body continued to absorb the powerful smell. He looked up only to see his own handsome face smirking down at him. No. It wasn’t his face anymore. There was no going back. Now he was nothing more than a pair of compression shorts for his master to wear.

Meanwhile Adam decided to open the bag that’d been in Chris’s locker only to pull out a pair of clean grey t-shirt and a cap. Without hesitation he slipped both of them on, loving how the large shirt hugged his muscular frame in all the right places. After which he grabbed and pulled on the black gym shorts Chris had been wearing earlier before tugging on Chris’ gym socks and trainers. All of it fitting him like a glove. At last turning to the trusty mirror once again, he couldn’t help but whistle at how fucking sexy he looked! So much so that he started turning to inspect his body for all different angles. God he just couldn’t get enough of those bulky legs. As much as he adored his arms and pecs, he was starting to think his legs may actually be his best asset afterall.

He couldn’t help grabbing Chris’ phone and taking a few quick photos of himself to savour the moment. Pictures he’d surely look back on in the future to remember the day when he stole this body. And to jerk off too of course. Maybe he’d even post them to one of his new socials later.

Now all he had to do was wait for these memories to kick in. That Mr Wavell dude said they were gonna come any second and when they did Adam was truly going to become Chris inside and out. And once he’d settled into his new life he was gonna see if he could find some dudes eager to fuck his muscle ass get railed by his enormous new cock. With a body like this he was bound to have stamina for hours.

Then it hit him. All at once. Adam let out a thunderous roar as his mind flooded with memories from Chris’ life. Most of them being delegated to the back of his consciousness to pull on when needed while others came straight to the forefront. Immediately he knew everything there was to know about Chris. He even felt some of Chris’ personality traits starting to take root. That cocky gym bro attitude was starting to settle in comfortably. He might’ve still remembered everything from when he was Adam, but that wasn’t who he was anymore. That was a mere shell that the real him had finally emerged from.

Chris strode confidently out of the Gym and towards his car. He just couldn’t wait to get home so he could strip down and take as many nudes as possible of himself. His new life was about to be absolutely incredible.

[thekims4]

Preppy Style Lookbook #1

Hair / Skin 1, 2, 3 / Eyebrows / Eyes / Eyelids / Eyeliner / Blush / Lips

Clothing - Top

*Acc Chic Mood N1 Suit Jacket @seoulsoul-sims

Dumdi Top @plbsims

V-Neck Sweater & Shirt @gorillax3-cc

JIHYO MiuMiu Top @eunosims

Clothing - Bottom

Calypso Skirt @christopher067

Dreaming Pleats Skirt @waterblue

Pleated Skirt @eunosims

Clothing - Fullbody

Boyfriend Shirt @turksimmer

*Acc Short Tank @wildlyminiaturesandwich

*Acc Biker Shorts @solistair

Knit Vest & Pleats Skirt @rimings

Barbara Outfit @akaysims

Acc

Thick Headband @lin-dian

Deep Blue Sunglasses @luminescent-cc

Zinare Earrings @suzuesims

Headphone @marsmerizing-sims

Vintage Necktie @tina-sims

Glimmer Rings @christopher067

Mia Rings @arethabee

Brigadeiro Nails @candysims4

Burn Book @seoulsoul-sims

My Phone! @ssiat

Chocolate Rosette Ruck Sack @usamarusims

Gucci Horsebit Bag @sakssims

Hermes Birkin Bag Scarf Charm @bergdorfverse

Hyein Seo Long Pile Socks @charonlee

Rib Long Socks @charonlee

Shoes

Balenciaga Speed Trainer @sakssims

Leather Loafers 04 @jius-sims

Norae Loafer @mmsims

Shoes Pack 36 @arltos

Pose

@helgatisha Hongzo @katverse @nerinsims @ratboysims @roselipaofficial @ssiat @toysofdukeness

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I sincerely hope I’m sending this request correctly. I wanna ask for a pokemon request where reader has a full Unown team with the Paldea crew reaction(Arven, nemona, penny) and maybe the blueberry academy crew reaction. I love unowns they’re my funky little letter guys. Basically the reader is an Unown enthusiast who only ever has unowns and only ever used Unowns. They have all the forms but the six they use are just the ones they took with them to Paldea. They went through Paldea and became champion with a full Unown team. Same with the bb league. I just think it’d be funny to see everyone’s reactions to that. Their partner mon would be Unown O and the other five you could pick cuz Unown O is my favorite letter. And also if u could write the unowns being affectionate with the reader and vice versa. I just like seeing trainers bonding with their pokemon. Thank you and I enjoy your writing!

(Side note: Honestly if ScarVio was able to have unowns in it you’d bet your ass I’d do a full Unown run. I’ve done it for other games. Was disappointed and sad I couldn’t have any unowns in them, sword/shield too.)

I LOVE the Unowns omg. I got a plushie of V and I'm still trying to get shinies and alphas in PLA

My favorite is F because it looks like a little stick figure but I adore all of them very much <3

.......

General

Ever since discovering the Unown in Johto (Ruins of Alpha) and the two additional forms in Kanto (Tanoby Chambers), you found your calling as a trainer.

An Unown trainer, to be precise.

Unown O was the first one you caught, and has been your battle partner ever since!

You've become something of an enthusiast, asking researchers what they've discovered and documenting the Symbol Pokemon as you collected them.

You've caught so many that you actually encountered a shiny or two--each capture being a success.

Their existence, connection to Arceus, home dimension, and "secret power" when more than one are gathered were all fascinating to you and made you wanna learn more.

You even incorporated some of their designs into your outfit: like gloves and socks that had symbols printed on them, keychains and charms on your jewelry and/or backpack..etc.

All 28 Unown grew to love you, and the ones in your party are super affectionate when you bring them out.

Their favorite game is hide n' seek (taking after their "ancestors" from PLA) around your home, and you like to play along.

Ofc people are wary around Unown given their mysterious nature, but you vow to break that stigma by feeding them treats and letting them nuzzle up to you, showing others that they're just like any other Pokémon: companions who deserved as much love and affection as a Pikachu.

After parting ways with your friends in Kanto and Johto, you don't leave without gifting them an Unown that was the first letter in their name (for Blue you left him a Shiny Unown B...which he still brags about to this day).

You decided to move to Paldea to take your Pokémon training more seriously, attending school and showing off your Unown since they're not native to the region.

Your team consisted of O, as well as N, E, F, R, and M--referring to what all 28 are collectively called (One Form).

Despite knowing they can only use Hidden Power and nothing else (plus the drawbacks from having a psychic-only team), you defied all the odds when you took on not one but TWO championships and won.

And of course, the friends you've made during your journey all got to know the Unown personally.

Paldea

Arven

At first, he thought your Unown team had more to it...until he realized that was ALL you brought to the battlefield.

Just funky letters that only knew one move.

"Oh come on, you're never gonna win with a team like that-"

And then you go and beat him with a team like that, and it shuts him up.

But Arven just rolls his eyes to the sky, making the excuse that he's not used to battling, and moves on.

As you get closer to him, though, and help him take down the Titan Pokémon around Paldea, he warms up to your team and admits they're kinda cool.

He'll only shoo them away if he's making a sandwich, not wanting to be crowded (but tbh he can tolerate Unown O's presence more than your 'raidon's).

You presented him with picks inspired by the designs of some Unown (I, K, T, Y, and !) to hold the ingredients together, and he's thoroughly impressed by your dedication to the craft.

You joked about selling them if you ever went into the art of culinary--yet Arven tells you to seriously consider it.

After the fight with the AI Professor in Area Zero, he sees your entire team pop out of their pokeballs, clearly stressed from being locked inside due to the Paradise Protection Protocol.

You never did a battle without them and were afraid they couldn't protect you, but you reassured them you were okay, letting them stay out during the journey home.

Only then does he realize that sure, they're weird little guys that don't seem all-that powerful, but you treasure them all the same.

Nemona

While she was confused about you not using the Paldea starter the Director offered you..she's HYPED when your real team comes out to play during your first match together: One made entirely of Unown, a Pokémon not even native to Paldea.

She may have read about them in some textbook unrelated to battling and glossed over them.

But to see them in battle left her extremely impressed and asking you dozens of questions afterwards.

They could just change their type when attacking??? She read about Arceus supposedly having that power, but it's awesome that these little letters/symbols can, too!

Despite thinking you'll bore her by having no strategy except "use hidden power", Nemona NEVER wants you to feel discouraged!

She wants to battle your team every time.

As you fight your way through the Pokémon League and all the way up to the Elite Four, she's rooting for you 100%, praising your Unown for overcoming even the toughest terastalized foes.

Knowing your party members, they LOVE praise and are very friendly towards her and her own Pokémon.

If any of them have timid/lonely natures..her words give them a big confidence boost.

And it reflects in their reaction times and how often they'll heal their own status conditions or tank OH-KO hits.

She says you're helping them get stronger every day, but you give her lots of credit, too, for helping you get this far.

Penny

While dealing with Team Star, Giacomo's dark team put your Unown through a world of hurt...

Penny had been watching the battle, worried that he was going to be the reason you failed to squander the organization.

Yet by some miracle, your team came out on top!

Only then does she realize you were more than capable of taking down all the bases.

Unown P comes out to greet her while you've doing an LP exchange, and it scared her pretty badly.

Especially as it just...stares. Occasionally blinking once or twice as she tries talking to you.

Conversations are hard enough for her already, and staring doesn't help matters, so she gets ready to leave-

But then its tune changes when you pat it on the head(?) and it trills happily, snuggling up to you.

Penny had to do a double-take, wondering how it managed to look so cute..but she dismisses your concerns when you asked why she made that face.

Later, after revealing she's the leader and becoming your friend thereafter...she still gets anxious around the Unown from time-to-time, but eventually warms up to their presence.

You don't treat them any differently despite their mysterious nature.

If anything, you care for them just like anyone would a cute Eevee: by spoiling them with love, treats, and sweet words of encouragement.

Penny felt like a hypocrite for being scared of them, considering people used to be scared of Team Star--yet they aren't as evil as everyone made them out to be.

They used to be lonely and misunderstood, just like the Unown were before you found them.

BB Academy

Kieran

When you showed off your team for the first time, Kieran was stunned.. remembering the things he read about them but didn't know they could actually be caught.

All he says when you show him Unown K is "wowzers".

And the journal entries you've logged turned his eyes into stars.

You show him all the photographs of ruins and Unown blending in during your trips to the signboards, rambling about what you've seen and discovered.

He loves listening to your tales..and wishes he could see those places with you.

But what he didn't like, however, was whenever you two had a battle in which your Unown only needed one command to win. You didn't have to try at all.

Even with his team's most supereffective attacks..speed and dumb luck were on your side, crushing his confidence and making him jealous.

It doesn't help when you still decided to keep Ogerpon despite you saying you only ever used Unown.

It wasn't fair.

And ofc by Indigo Disk, Kieran wants nothing more than to destroy your team, insulting them under his breath when he thinks you can't hear him.

You just scowl and cover their nonexistent-ears while they nuzzle up to you--although deep down, you knew he didn't mean those words.

He's just pissed off that he lost sleep and his appetite over training his team, giving them the best moves and items to utilize on the battlefield..only for you to sweep the BB League with a simple command.

He managed to OH-KO one Unown with Incineroar's Darkest Lariat..and that sinister grin you saw on his face was most unnerving.

But you still claimed victory over him and he takes the loss hard.

Down in Area Zero, he's convinced that the "Hidden Treasure" Terapagos can take down your "Hidden Power" team..

But after seeing them form a shield (similar to the crystal one in the Spell of Unown movie) that protects him when the legendary goes rogue..it changed his perspective.

Only then he understood why they were so powerful.

As the Unovian Pokedex said: Alone, nothing happens..but together, Unown are strong and invoke a great power.

When the dust settles, O floats into Kieran's hands, healing the pain in his wrist caused by Terapagos breaking the masterball.

He felt so so guilty for the name-calling and his desires to hurt them. Yet they've all forgiven him.

In a way, Unown remind you of him: small and unassuming, at first glance..but full of great power that's waiting to shine.

During Mochi Mayhem, K stays by his side while he holds off the possessed townspeople and you capture Pecharunt, growing quite attached to him.

And after coming back to the academy, you decide to trade him that Unown, hoping he incorporates it into one of his teams. Be it casual or competitive.

Carmine

Back in Kitakami, she laughed at your "puny"-looking letter Pokémon, thinking them to be weak as she sics Poochyena and Polteageist on them.

While their dark/ghost moves hit the Unown hard, it's Unown O who takes them down with critical hits..and Carmine got LIVID.

She impressed you're sticking with a team that appeared in ancient texts, although that doesn't dissuade her from teasing you about them for a while.

Ngl you nerding out over Unown facts and studies you've recorded reminds her of Kieran infodumping about Ogerpon.

Your Unown just glare at her, and you gotta call them back to your side before they try attacking her outside a battle.

However as time goes on and she warms up to you, meets Ogerpon, etc..she grows to like them more, too.

Eventually she's cheering them on as they take down the Loyal Three and tank their poison attacks.

By Indigo Disk's events, she comes around to genuinely smile at their presence.

Although she had concerns Kieran's new team would be too overwhelming for them...

Yet your team of hieroglyphics won anyways.

And down in Area Zero's underdepths, they invoked a great power to shield the siblings from Terapagos' attacks, protecting the two people who once hated and mocked them with all they had.

As they both break down in tears, some Unown come out of their pokeballs to comfort them, and O stays on your shoulder as you exit the cavern together.

A few photobomb the selfie you take with the twins back at the academy (as well as Kitakami's festival), but it's alright.

Carmine will allow it because you treasured them and they DID save her and her brother's skin.

Drayton

While you did struggle during his trial (due to his "Terarium Pokemon-only" rule), the actual battle caught him by surprise when your Unown swept the floor, taking down his dragons.

How Unown F was able to withstand an Electro Shot was beyond him, but it was sturdy enough to finish the fight with a Fairy-based Hidden Power.

After winning, you both take a selfie in commemoration, with you passing F to Drayton like "can we get an F in the chat" and him humbly accepting it.

It was all in good fun, and looking back on it in your scrapbook made you laugh.

But what you didn't feel good about was him rubbing your victory in Kieran's face after you win the championship, further shattering the kid who nearly keeled over trying to make the perfect team to beat you..only for some "letters" to kick him down into the dirt.

"Wow, that's tough..now are you gonna take the F or L, ex-champ?"

He forgot this kid doesn't understand much internet lingo, but Unown F and Unown L didn't appreciate his jokes, and neither did you.

But after the events in Area Zero, you let it go, eventually deciding to trade him Unown D as your way of thanking him for helping you get close enough to knock sense back into Kieran.

Crispin

Let's face it, he's gonna be staring at your Unown like a Magikarp out of water and ask how they eat..

Or if they eat at all for that matter.

Their eyes just blink and poof, their share of the meal is already gone.

He knows they're psychic Pokémon, but still...

His favorite ones are definitely C (bc of his name) and S (for Spicy), though he's eager to see how your team fairs in battle when you clear his trial.

You warn him it might be "boring" but he acts like you insulted his cooking and begs you not to say that again.

"Every Pokémon battle gets me fired up!!!!! Don't downplay yourself!!!"

Even when your Unown easily douse his Pokémon's flames with Water-based Hidden Power (and Fire for his Exeggcutor), he still had a blast battling you, realizing those little letters are full of vigor and surprises!

He's eager to see what supereffective type they're gonna use next.

When you eventually decide to trade, you contemplate giving him an extra Unown F you had..or a C.

But you settle for the latter, and Crispin promises to feed the little guy well!

Lacey

Unown are small, simple, and make trilling noises...all checking off her criteria of "cute" Pokémon!

Although knowing they're connected to Arceus--the literal god of all 'mons--is an unnerving fact, she agrees that they're adorable and deserve to be treated as such.

She gets to learn your team's different natures, and likes how you're trying to convince people that they're not as scary as the old legends present them.

They love nuzzling up to you, resting on your shoulder and/or head, twirling around, and playing with the local Minior.

That being said..Lacey gets shocked at the punch they pack during battle, with them using Poison or Steel-based Hidden Power to take down her fairies.

It's always the most unsuspecting Pokémon who are the most powerful.

Even if you worry about the battle being boring since all you can give out is one command, she's gonna turn your pessimistic thinking around!

Unown F is her favorite since it's looks like a stick figure, but Unown L is also pretty neat..yet she wonders why Unown ? and Unown ! look tired all the time...

When you trade her a letter/symbol, she's thrilled to welcome yet another cute Pokémon onto her team!

Amarys

Considering their affiliations with ruins and Arceus, the existence of Unown have always piqued her interest.

And you so-happened to be a walking encyclopedia of anything related to the Symbol Pokémon, given the journals you've written on their mannerisms.

Amarys likes reading them over, and thinks a quiz involving the Unown Alphabet would be good to have at BB Academy.

On the other hand, after your battle to climb the League rankings, she wonders if you've ever used other Pokémon..only to find out that you never did.

All you know are Unowns.

She won't force you to change your team members, seeing as they were able to beat ALL of the league members--including Kieran.

But she suggests you had one Unown use Hidden Power on its battle partner, who could hold onto a Weakness Policy.

Yet you're adamant, saying "why would I want one Unown to hurt the other just for a temporary attack boost? :((("

Your team members are besties, your cuddle buddies..how could you do that to them???

Amarys is genuinely touched by how much you care for your Unowns, and vice versa.

Speaking of which, Unown A started hanging around her more often..and she cautiously tries to pet it, surprised by its happy trills, but otherwise acts nonchalant.

When you both decide to trade, you give her that Unown and she promises to look after it.

[ghostsslutss]

joost klein x vodka soda x rex club x chips and salsa

heres your order:

joost klien x f!reader

tags: cheating , degradation, praise, size kink

fuck why why did I do this. You thought. Your boyfriend went on a lad's trip with his friends, knowing him he was probably drunk clubbing in Ibiza. Joost Klein was your ex, that pesky ex that didn’t care if you had a boyfriend still. How his cock used to pound you endlessly again and again made you wet so bad. How his large hands managed to cover the whole of your throat while choking you. or how he used to pick you up so easily.

-

You were doing a DJ at the escape in Amsterdam, you dated Joost in private to avoid media and rumours. But it was one of the best times of your life. The love still burned within you for him, not for your boyfriend. For months you tried to avoid the pain of cheating on your boyfriend. But you wanted that fucking blonde so bad.

After your set, you left backstage. Hearing a swarm of fans, it probably was for you you opened the door to see him. that fucking idiot. Joost. There were people all around him asking for pictures one by one he signed them. Flirting and complimenting his fans, made you sick to your stomach. He should be praising you not them. as the crowd died down. Joost walked towards you, he was wearing one of his ridiculous outfit statements again. Kilt, tie and polo shirt with socks that go up way too high then some trainers. With his oversized glasses and messy mullet to finish the look.

“coming back to me again?”

Joost teased. You rolled your eyes crossing your arms and looking at him up and down. The fact he looked so hot made you clench your teeth. fuck. His blue eyes glared at you, wondering what was going on in your head. You finally snapped back into reality, covering your mouth and looking away.

“shut up joost.”

you mumbled, he grabbed you by the hips. Pulling you towards him. His tall frame towering over you. Feeling all of your curves, he inhaled deeply. Take in all of your alluring, strong perfume. You didn’t want to push him away. He felt and smelt too good. Forgive me father I have sinned.

“beautiful than ever.”

you tried to look away, his hand grabbing your chin. He bent down to adjust to your height and began kissing you deeply in the middle of the streets of Amsterdam. Tasting all of you, you softly moaned as he pulled away. A string of saliva left when he pulled away.

“lets go to yours it’s near isn’t it, little one.”

He grabbed your hand softly, watching you lead him the way. He was your protector, guard dog. That man would do anything to protect you. As you walked down the streets of Amsterdam people turned heads as Joost glared at people, watching people to not even look at you or touch you.

as you unlocked the door to your apartment, Joost quickly went in, throwing his shoes wherever they landed. of course he didn't give two fucks, he just wanted to fuck that sweet sweet pussy.

He went down to his knees, taking off your shoes and kissing your leg. As soon as he stood up, you slightly blushed struggling to keep eye contact as he towered over you again. Joost knew your weak points unlike your boyfriend did. He picked you up, you gasping as soon as he did.

“little one don’t worry.”

he smiled as he hummed one of his songs as he walked into your bedroom. Same room with the same Ikea furniture before he left. What a cheap useless boyfriend he thought. He gently placed you on the bed, taking your clothes off until your fully naked body was on full show to him. he licked his lips, already feeling his cock straining through his boxers. Joost started from your neck, kissing you softly. He moved to your tits, putting one in his mouth and sucking it softly.

“my favourite body part.”

you nodded as you moaned softly. Your breathing going more rapid and he moved down. He took his face away from your thighs. he pulled his kilt down and then his boxers. Revealing his lengthy and straining cock, you drooled at the sight of it. How you missed it railing you all night.

“on all fours.”

You obeyed like a dog. Arching your back for him, as he thrusted into you. You gasped. Your walls squeezing against his cock. he rolled his head back, groaning loudly. He delved deeper into you, penetrating you slowly but deeply. His nails dug on to your waist and he thrusted in to you.

“your boyfriend wont fuck you like this. hm?”

[sleepyfan-blog]

In The Medbay

Author’s Note: This is the second part of Pallius’ in Husbandry. First. Other Black Templar adventures here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me borrow her oc Zariel!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 

Warnings: none? Please ask me to tag something if I need to.

Summary: Pallius wakes up. He’s surprised by this. This is only the first of many surprises in store for the young Black Templar.

Pallius was pleasantly surprised to find himself awake. Considering how badly He had beaten him, the young Primaris Marine hadn’t expected to survive it. He wouldn’t have been the first Primaris Marine to fall to Petras’ bad temper and lethal hands, though he knew that the medicae would do their best to stabilize him, if he was able to be found in time. How he had ended up on a world with civilians on it, when he had been aboard The Sigismund when the punishment Petras had been delivering unto him moments ago made no sense whatsoever. 

His wounds ached somewhat, but far less than he was expecting them to… Was… Was he being given morpha, to relieve some of his pain? Pallius’ eyes shot open, and the view of an astartes-sized and grade medical bay filled his vision. He spotted a couple of Ultramarine apothecaries tending to other patients, moving swiftly and efficiently between them. 

… How had he ended up on a world of Ultramar? The Sigismund had been deep in Imperium Nihilus, chasing rumors of a second Primarch's possible awakening… And the strange moments of The Dark Angels…

Well, stranger movements of the Dark Angels. That particular chapter of Astartes had always been extremely secretive and unwilling to explain anything whatsoever. The way they operated reminded him of the Silver Bastard Trainers back on Mars. The ones he wasn't supposed to talk or even think about very much.

Despite the odd mysteries before him, his mind wandered back to the young mortal who had first found him, upon this world. She had been scared for him, and so earnestly trying to help. Her light touches had soothed wherever they had landed, and her voice had been a soothing balm to his ragged, guilt-ridden soil. Pallius needed to find her.

The young Black Templar looked down at himself assessingly. He had an IV attached to a clear plastic bag that was dripping… Something into his veins. His wounds that needed it were bandaged and presumably cleaned beforehand, per proper protocols.

And if there was one thing Ultramarines were good at, it was following proper protocol. Most of them, anyways.

Pallius’ body was covered by some egregious thin and flimsy light blue smock-thing and a blanket. He wiggled his toes, finding them free of the Vile Abominations known as socks, and bare. He needed to find that baseline mortal and thank her for what she had done. It was as if someone had tied steel cabling to the deepest part of his soul and tethered him to that mortal girl. He found that he did not mind this tether, but the near-frantic urge to find her and keep her safe and happy was enough to force him up and off of the comfortable bed.

A wave of morpha-induced dizziness hit Pallius hard as he managed to silently heave himself off of the bed and onto his bare feet. His fingers clumsily tied the blanket around himself over one shoulder in a parody of a toga, but it was better than the gown-thing he was wearing underneath the blanket alone.

One of his hands flew over to and grasped the IV pole, allowing himself to steady against it. Some clever soul had attached wheels to the base of the pole, which meant pushing it and the IV attached to him a lot easier. His wounds all protested simultaneously at the movement, but Pallius ignored them with all of the grit and determination that he could muster.

Pallius allowed himself a couple of seconds to breathe silently through the pain before taking a quiet step toward the medbay doors. Then another. Then a third. The young Black Templar moved slowly and with caution, so as to not aggravate his still-healing wounds to the best of his abilities, willing none of the Apothecaries to come over and bother him.

He had a (self-imposed) mission to complete, and by the God Emperor Himself, Pallius would see it done, or die in the process. Nothing and no one would be able to stop him on this righteous quest. Pallius continued to make his way to the medbay doors, and reached about three-quarters of the way there from the bed he’d woken up in, when an amused voice drawled out from behind him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Scout?” One of the Ultramarines called out, an amused expression on his face and mirth shining in his blue-black eyes. 

“I need to find the mortal who first helped me. She was so nice and worried and I… I need to reassure her that I have survived. Do you know where she is?” Pallius asked, having partially turned to explain himself to the Apothecary before returning to his task of Leaving The Medbay.

“... And you want to find the mortal who helped you dressed like this, do you?” The Ultramarine asked, sounding very judgmental and amused.

Rude bastard. “Do you have any better ideas?” Pallius huffed, scowling (not pouting! He was a space marine, damn it) down at the older but shorter Astartes. “Or know where I may borrow some better clothes?”

“The answer to both of those questions is yes.” The Ultramarine Apothecary answered, still clearly laughing at him silently. “But first, please sit down. There is much to explain to you, and I daresay the explanation will help.”

Pallius blinked, obeying the tone of command without thought. A sigh of relief left him and the gray that had been eating at the edges of his vision faded. The pain ebbed and hey, he could breathe better again. “Will the explanation include how I arrived on a world of Ultramar?”

“Considering who you see in the medbay, I understand why you’ve guessed that. But no, we are not within the Realm of Ultramar. We are on Terra.” The Ultramarine revealed.

The Primaris Marine physically recoiled a little in shock and surprise, a silent gasp leaving him, his eyes widening as he tried to process this information. “H… Holy Terra? But… But I was many years from the Sol system, even by Warp Travel… And I thought that Terra’s atmosphere had long since become thin and heavily polluted. That is what we were told, sir.”

“In M42, this is true. However -” The Ultramarine - who introduced himself as Apothecary Zariel - explained the utterly wild and nonsensical tale of time travel that apparently every Marine currently on M3 Holy Terra had somehow undergone. Allegedly Zariel was from M36. He talked of the alliance, of bonds, of many fantastical and heretical things, ending with “And, as I can tell you don’t believe most of what I say -not that I blame you for that young one, this is a tale I would scarcely believe myself if I did not have proof of it, there are a few other Primaris Marines from M42 on base. I have asked two of them to join us. Cedric - who is an apothecary, and Ramiel, who is a Chaplain-in-training. Both of them are also Primaris Black Templars.”

“... Could you go over what these bonds are? How do you know if you have a bond? They… They aren’t heretical, are they?” Pallius asked, light blue eyes widening in surprise and recognition of the names of two of his Brothers.

Zariel smiled and gently patted one of his shoulders, having sat down partway through the long-winded lecture of absolute nonsense that he’d been trying to feed him. Why the other was trying to lie to Pallius so much, the young marine couldn’t begin to guess. All the other had to say was that it was classified for him to know where he was, and Pallius would have accepted that from the other. “Most commonly, a marine bonded to a baseline human feels the need to protect and care for that human. To ensure that they are happy and loved and that they know this. It is also common to want to spend as much time as possible around the human one is bonded to, and to feel a sense of anxiety or concern when away from one’s human for one reason or another.”

Pallius’ eyes widened and he fidgeted with his hands a little, looking away from the older Marine “And… And these bonds, they are… They are good things?”

“Yes, lad, They are wonderful gifts. Is there a particular reason why you ask?” Zariel asked, and he could hear a smile in the other’s voice.

“I think. I think I have a bonded human. The blue haired human who helped me until medicae got on the scene. I feel… I need. I need to find her. I need to make sure that she’s okay. I want to see her smile and laugh and be happy. I-I need to let her know that her care and concern weren’t wasted on someone who died, or does not think of her concern as the precious gift it is.” Pallius explained, a desperate desire to explain himself rising up within the young marine. “Please… I… I need to find her. To see her again.”

“Easy… Easy… Deep breaths. Follow my lead, lad.” Zariel instructed him, breathing in the manner that he wanted Pallius to copy. “Once you’re in a bit better shape -”

Pallius shook his head, his eyes wide and pleading “No! No, I need to see her now! I can’t… It can’t wait! I… I need to see her again. I will leave this medbay and find her on my own, the moment you leave me alone. Please! Her presence was a soothing balm. I know that I would do much better, heal faster, were she around.”

“Do you want your bonded human to see you half-dead from your wounds and half-delirious from both the morpha and blood loss?” Zariel asked, a sharpness in his voice, but a gentle understanding on his face. 

A chill ran through him. Would she see him as an ill-fitting protector, if she were to be brought to him while he was so injured, so frantic? The urge to find her was nearly all-consuming… But the idea of her rejecting him because he was a weak mess of emotions and injuries was enough to get him to stop dead in his tracks, both literally and metaphorically. “I… No…” He answered, his voice small and meek. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m going to help you back to your bed. There are some gentle exercises that I will be happy to teach you that will help you heal better, but you must listen to me. You also must not push yourself, or you will strain your injuries and cause them to take longer to heal.” Zariel rumbled, a stern expression on his face.

Pallius ducked his head, shame burning in his hearts “Yes sir… Sorry sir…”

The stern expression on Zariel’s face softened somewhat. “I understand your eagerness to meet your bonded again. I, too have a bonded human. They are a wonderful companion, however the baseline you are bonded to would be distraught to see you in such a weakened state. Not because she’d judge you for being so badly hurt, but because she’d worry as to how you got into such a state. M3 is much more peaceful, and isolated from the horrors of the Galaxy. You want to be at your best when you meet her properly, yes?”

“Yes sir!” Pallius answered, nodding. He still felt the desire to go find the human he was Bonded to, but was able to temper that desire with the knowledge that he did not want to find them, only to collapse into a puddle of pain and bloodied meat before her feet. He obediently followed Zariel back to his bed and laid down, a sigh of relief leaving him, his eyes closing as he was stunned by how exhausted the short distance he had moved had made him.

Zariel untied the blanket he’d been wearing and tucked him into bed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Sleep well, young one. Try not to sprint for the medbay doors when you wake up again, mm?”

“Yes sir…” Pallius yawned, letting himself settle into the comfortable embrace of sleep.

[mathewharris7703]

"A young 8 year old boy, full of imagination, has met a new friend at his school. Since the start of the 3rd grade has been struggling at school with paying attention in class and having to deal with bullies that's trying to ruin his high imagination, his fixations and his sociability with others that has similar interests to him. He made a wish one night, a simple wish of having a friend that could help him through out this new year of school. The next day, a new transfer student arrived. A fun-loving, wooden doll that goes by the name of Geno. As someone who's imaginative, knowing what's true and fake, he couldn't believe his eyes that an actual talking wooden doll is the new kid. Funnily enough, everyone else in that school just didn't question it. In fact, some either didn't care that much or just simply found him cool and interesting (even loving his dress sense). To the young boy however, he felt joy. The two, obviously, got along well when they finally met in class, sitting next to each other. Geno mentions to the boy about The Star Road and how wishes comes true. The Star Road heard the wish of the boy wanting a friend and Geno, who previously heard stories of the boy's imagination from his other fellow stars, volunteered to take the form of the wooden doll once again, now dressed more casually and modern, wearing comfy clothes of a blue cap, yellow shirt, a starry blue overall dress, socks and trainers (that he really adores).

During recess, the boy and Geno played a game of Tag, where you chase one person and try to tag them so that they are it. Geno is the chaser while the boy is trying to not be tagged. With his imagination, he imagined himself flying, showing tiny little wings by the sides of his shoulders. As they both ran, happily and confidently respectively, Geno's sparkles showed from behind, speeding up. The boy is very happy to have his new friend Geno by his side and is excited to spend more days with him throughout the rest of the year!" Art by @nintendonut1

[newbornwhumperfly]

no one will feed you anymore...

oh, y’all know what time it is by now, don’t you? 😈🥺😈 i stretched the definition of this delightful prompt - @whumpmasinjuly day 12: caught - and it really stirred my creativity! so it's time for morja to sufferrrrrrrrrr...😭😭😭

(sidenote: this training scenario was heavily insp. by this incredible art by @elgrajaz cause it gives such whumperflies 😍)

title insp. by this concept art quote by jenny holzer - "if you're considered useless, no on will feed you anymore."

~

Your job today is to run. 

Until, anotèros?

There’s a blister on his ankle already. The friction of the shoe against skin, the rub-rub-rub, burn, burn, heat, sore, heat, foot falling flat against the ground, push off, spring forward, burn. 

Until you catch up.

Morja blinks wet into his eyes and it stings, blurs, his feet pound their rhythm still. Can’t wipe it away. Keep going. He knows where he’s going and he doesn’t need to see. Just run. 

Chase the buggy. The small white cart and the whine of the wheels as it speeds ahead, the anotèros driving, the anotèros with the stopwatch in his hand, the black glasses, don’t watch his face, just run.  

He has caught the buggy before. Dog with rabbit in his teeth. Grab the bar, swing himself into the backseat, stopwatch clicking stop. 

But it is so hot.

What is this track made of, anotèros? 

His trainer’s eyes had squinted, slitted sideways down at Morja, and the skin of his palms itched. 

The burn is all over. Heat. Heat in the legs, the thighs, the feet, the pulse of fire through each foot. 

Raw, sharp, prick of fire, as the blister peels. Heat. Blood. Blood in the sock. Bad. Wash later. Run. 

Keep going. 

Keep going.

The heat is inescapable. It’s the worst part, really, of anything. He’s lived in heat. Used to heat. Born in it, raised in it, put in it day after day and still, it is the most inescapable. 

Polyurethane, mostly. Does that answer your question, diathèsimòs?

Morja’s palms itched harder and he squeezed them into balls behind his back.  

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. 

Good. Now get out there and run. 

Fire jars through his chest with each breath, breath dragging sharp across his lungs, filling up with knives, throat a razor trap, chest a dozen blade tips. Breathing out is an ache but better, better than swallowing the fire of air. 

Back straight. Drag air through the nose. Thick, rubber-scented, hot. It’s so hot in the building, foggy, every window had fog on it when he walked in today. 

Polly-your-a-thane. Rubber. That’s the smell. Mixed with latex. The stuff that sticks to skin. Poured over asphalt. Bouncy over solid. 

Knowing why your shoes stick to the track in the rain, in the heat, in the cold, doesn’t make you faster. It doesn’t help. 

Morja sees sweat gleam on his trainer’s head, wrist swiping it away, the stopwatch gleaming bright, pinpoint-sharp, and the lights are bright. Big bulbs in the ceiling that hum against his skin they’re so blue-bright-sharp. 

Keep up. 

His sides pulse. The pulse has started now and the stabbing will only get stronger. Stitch. A needle pulling air through his body on a barbed thread. Poke. Drag. Poke. Drag. 

They haven’t told you to stop.

Morja always has to remind himself his throat isn’t bleeding. It feels like it is. It isn’t. Not like his feet. Those are bleeding. 

He can’t even hear the clink of his cuffs, thick leather slick and sticking to his flesh in an itching snick-snick-snick at every jostle. The piston of his elbows at his sides is short and doesn’t yank the chains trailing behind the buggy. 

The slow whir of wheels-on-rubber is just a buzz now. Everything is a buzz, ears full of static, only the thudthudthud of blood rushing, water, past his ears, like his head is under the water, don’t think just run. 

He won’t catch up to the buggy if he doesn’t run.

(It will outrun him anyway. That’s the point. It has to. Of course it will. It’s a buggy and Morja is on foot. There is no point.)

No. He can catch the buggy. He was told to and he can. 

Keep the pace. This track doesn’t end. Run. 

Inescapable.

Run.

He is a diathèsimòs and he must keep running. 

The thud of his shoes against the track, the springing-then-solid, the reaching out with one hand, no, not close enough to reach and sweat blinds him again. Fuck. 

He should have caught them already. 

He must catch them. 

Every step burns. Every breath burns. The lights burn. The track is a circle and he rounds a corner into a corner into a corner in pursuit. 

The length of chain yanks, every step jolts his ribs against the inside of his skin, like every step jolts cuff against wrist, the chain growing tauter, the breaths shorter, harsher, dragging, razorwire, like the lungs being whipped. 

The shredded grunt of each breath can’t be coming from him, he doesn’t think, but it must be. It’s so loud in his ears, like his heartbeat, as knife of breathing stabs, stabs, stabs. 

The buggy is getting further away, inch by inch, and there is no way his lungs can bleed, like a horse. He is a diathèsimòs and his lungs don’t bleed. 

Breathing and seeing are fire. 

Hot rubber and hot copper and the itch of sweat is all he can think about. The sting of it in his open blisters. The crawl of it down the waistband of the pants, into the neck of the shirt, in his dry mouth like spit, in his dry eyes like tears. 

The track is designed to help you not slip. That’s how running tracks are made. That’s why the rubber smells so strong. 

But a stab, too-sharp, too-blinding, doubles him. He jerks against the cuffs and it’s done. The buggy keeps going and Morja doesn’t and his shoes fly out from under him and he hits the track. 

Rubber. Asphalt. Body. 

All the ragged breath is slammed from his lungs as his chest hits the ground, chin tucked against the fall, and the track burns across every inch, shoulders sharp and shocking at the jarring pull, pull, pull, dragged behind the buggy-

“Stop! Time.”

The burning stops and Morja lays there, heaving, light pulsing with every sharp heartbeat behind his eyelids, and he’s curled up on the ground, arms stretching out with their chains behind the buggy. 

Get up. 

He can’t.

Then kneel. 

Rolling, belly first, then dragging one leg, burning, stabbing, shaking, up beneath him. Another. He does kneel up and his lids, bleary, blink open as the shape of his anotèros floats from the buggy. The squeak of leather as the shape bends to crouch in front of him, a rolling smell as sharp and bright and cold as the overhead bulbs swallows him up, clean scent and sharp corners, holding up a gleaming pinpoint in Morja’s face. 

The stopwatch. 

The only cold Morja’s felt today stabs into the hollow of his stomach as numbers, bright electric lines, become clear. 

Slow. 

Fuck. 

I was slow.

“Gonna have to work on your speed, diathèsimòs. Guess you didn’t manage to catch up. You know the drill - don’t stop running until we’re caught.” 

Morja tastes blood in his mouth. Not from his lungs. Of course not. He takes his teeth out of his cheek and the smell of rubber fills his nose as he bows his head to the ground. 

Polyurethane, soft against his skin. 

“…Yes, anotèros.”

~ oooh, a little glimpse into morja's training regimen, which is very fair and achievable!! 🥺🥺🥺

taglist: @much-ado-about-whumping @haro-whumps @whump-tr0pes @whumpthisway @i-eat-worlds

@wolfeyedwitch @whumpzone @whumping-every-day @redwingedwhump @straight-to-the-pain

@stoic-whumpee @liliability @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpster-draganies

@whump-me-all-night-long @suspicious-whumping-egg @scoundrelwithboba @kixngiggles @tears-and-lilies

i hope everyone has a very merry @whumpmasinjuly! 💖💖💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[seat-safety-switch]

We have bred, in our darkest laboratories, a genetically-modified strain of ultra-caterpillars whose entire purpose for existence is to produce carbon-fibre-bolstered thread for our new line of hard-wearing socks. It’s hell on their little buttholes, but they gladly bear it if it means you don’t immediately rip a hole in the big toe getting ready for work in the morning.

For years, I slaved away at a job I hated in order to afford the socks I needed to go to that job. My dried-out heels and rough, proletarian carpet would shred those suckers after only a few weeks of operation. Buying more expensive socks didn't work: they were just the same crappy material with a more expensive badge on the package.

In times long past, socks really lasted. They were extremely expensive, so much so that it made sense to repair them. If it cost me like a week's wages, I'd probably have learned to darn socks too. Sixteen bucks, at most? Not worth it.

One fateful day, I went to work with slightly mismatched socks. Heel holes on both of their mates, but the unholed ones ended up in the wash. At the end of my rope, I had done my laundry in the dark, not wanting to switch the lights on and consume valuable power that could pay for more socks instead. In that darkness I had matched a dark blue sock with a slightly less dark blue sock, with a different collar pattern. Disaster. All day long, I hid my feet under my desk to conceal the sin from view, but the roving pack of sales guys could smell it on me. They laughed at me, with their fascist haircuts and their tailored suits and their matching socks. Well, who's laughing now?

This day, I sit atop an empire. Our pitch: unbreakable socks. They wear like stone. Better than stone, really, because stone isn't compressed to several thousand PSI and woven into a corrugated laminate capable of withstanding indirect small-calibre fire. Of course, all this comes at a price. They cost about $25 a pair. Oh, and the next weakest link in the chain is your shoes. These babies will rip through a pair of athletic trainers in about two weeks, less if you sweat a lot. That's Bob Reebok's problem. While you're over there, asking them to fix it, see if their socks match. I bet they don't.

[takeariskao3]

Written for #WeasleyWeek and @thethreebroomsticksfic 🧡 Day 2: Ron Weasley

Ron spent much of his childhood lamenting about things that weren't really his. Hand-me-down clothes. Percy's Rat. Charlie's old wand, which had been their Uncle Gideon's before that. Trainers that had been worn by so many different brothers, Ron didn't even know whose they started out as. Probably Bill's. Old bedsheets. Second-hand trunk. School robes that were more grey than black, and at least one size too small as he waited for Fred and George to outgrow theirs. Even the gleaming prefect badge assigned to him didn't really feel like his, because Bill and Percy had one first.

Everything he had was someone else's first.

Or nearly everything.

Everything except the occasional pair of socks, or pajamas, or annual Christmas jumper. That were always maroon.

Ron hated maroon.

For the first fifteen years of his life, if anyone had asked him why he had a personal vendetta against the color, he would have grumbled something unintelligible then changed the subject. Mostly because he didn't really know why. The sight of it just filled him with a disdainful loathing that didn't feel justified or particularly rational. It just was what it was. A simple fact like the sky was blue, and two plus two equals four. Mum assigned him maroon at birth, and Ron hated it.

He wasn't ever git enough to tell Mum, though.

No, Ron had resigned himself to suffer in silence for the rest of his life in maroon hats, and maroon scarfs, and maroon dress robes, all for the sake of Mum being able to sort the laundry into color-coded stacks.

It wasn't until later, until he was seventeen, that he clung to the color like a lifeline.

Sitting up in the mouth of the tent, and watching the rain come down in sheets, Ron tucked his nose into the collar of his jumper. He pulled in a deep breath that still somewhat smelled of wildflowers and freshly baked bread. His chest ached with the memory of it. Of home. And he realized he'd wasted so much energy, so much time, hating that maroon had been chosen for him, that he'd failed to cherish the fact that he'd been chosen.

For so long, he thought being a Weasley meant a passed down wardrobe and worn soles on his shoes. When, really, it meant he belonged somewhere.

Something inside him shifted after that. He hoped he hadn't figured it out too late. And he vowed never to take that legacy for granted ever again.

Which was why, a year later, when December rolled around and Mum asked, "Ron, dear, what color would you like for your jumper?"

His answer came easy, and with a wide grin. "Maroon."

[xutxfxrder]

analysing lindy's outfit from dot and bubble bc im a nerd :3

(excuse the bad photos they were the best i could find)

okay, let's start from the top and work our way down

her makeup struck me as kind of childish. she has pastel blue eyeliner, pink blush and pink lipstick. lots of light, pastel colours. obviously the childishness relates to her ignorance and over confidence "we'll be just like our ancestors"

her coat is also pastel blue and she has a pink top underneath - again, childish colours which reflect her childish mindset

her skirt is yellow and tweed, which kind of looks like she's pretending to be adult by wearing something sophisticated, like when she sat at her 'job' and complained about how long her hours are - only the façade is ruined when we see that she doesnt really do anything at her job, and she only works 2 hours a day

finally, her socks and trainers just top off the childish look. the makeup and coat can kind of show she's childish, but it could just be to match the pastel colours everywhere. but her shoes really show how childish she acts and thinks. its also kind of ironic how she wears shoes suitable for running when she can barely walk.

conclusion: lindy looks like and thinks like a naïve kid. props to whoever made this costume, they did an amazing job :3

also fuck lindy #gosnails

[gamegem92]

(IO/Splatoon AU) Profiles thus far

Name: Joy Yoru

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Firefly Squid 

Ink Color(natural): Yellow/Blue gradient 

Weapon of Choice: Dapple Dualies

Headgear: Sun Visor

Clothing: Lime BlobMob Tee

Shoes: Cyan Trainers

~~~~~~~

Name: _____ “Sadness” Egea 

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Glass Squid (Egea Inermis)

Ink Color(natural): Blue

Weapon of Choice: Bloblobber

Headgear: Full-Moon Glasses

Clothing: Tenured Turtleneck 

Shoes: Blue Slip-Ons

~~~~~~~

Name: _______ “Anger” Rossi

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Chilean Bobtail Squid

Ink Color(natural): Red

Weapon of Choice: Carbon Roller

Headgear: Skull Bandana

Clothing: King Jersey

Shoes: Buckle-Down Boots

~~~~~~~

Name: ______ “Disgust” Loligo

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Longfin Inshore Squid

Ink Color(natural): Green

Weapon of Choice: REEF-LUX 450

Headgear: Squidbeak Shield

Clothing: Plum Barazushi Wrap

Shoes: Onyx 01STERs

~~~~~~~

Name: _________ “Fear” Ivieran

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Long-Armed Squid 

Ink Color(natural): Violet 

Weapon of Choice: New Squiffer

Headgear: Fake Contacts

Clothing: Office Attire

Shoes: Baggy-Sock Fringe Loafs

~~~~~~~

Name: ____ “Anxiety” Koystvo

Species: Octoling

Subspecies: Blind Cirrate Octopus

Ink Color(natural): Orange

Weapon of Choice: Painbrush

Headgear: Noise Cancelers

Clothing: Striped Rugby

Shoes: Clownfish Basics

~~~~~~~

Name: ______ “Envy” Bluu

Species: Octoling

Subspecies: Blue-Ringed Octopus

Ink Color(natural): Cyan

Weapon of Choice: Foil Squeezer

Headgear: Fishfry Biscuit Bandana

Clothing: Crustwear XXL

Shoes: Bubble Rain Boots 

~~~~~~~

Name: _________ “Ennui” Vitrele

Species: Octoling

Subspecies: Glass Octopus (Richardi)

Ink Color(natural): Lilac

Weapon of Choice: Undercover Sorella Brella

Headgear: Annaki Beret

Clothing: Negative Longcuff Sweater

Shoes: Octoleet Boots

~~~~~~~

Name: ______ “Embarrassment” Pacifico

Species: Octoling

Subspecies: Giant Pacific Octopus

Ink Color(natural): Pink

Weapon of Choice: Splatana Wiper

Headgear: Snaxolotl Hood

Clothing: Whale-Knit Sweater 

Shoes: Pink Dadfoot Sandals

[racfoam]

nynn Deathly Hallows AU

A day after Harry buried Dobby, she was sitting at the edge of the beach of Shell Cottage, staring out at the sea.

It was when she felt a wind not borne of the seaside caress on the doors of the soul bond that her body tensed. Picking herself up, Harry pulled out Draco's wand and Disapparated.

Harry landed on another beach, where above her, looking white cliffs stood tall. It was much warmer here.

The doors were pushed gently. Harry approached the sea, pulling of her Muggle clothes as she went, toeing off her trainers and pulling off her socks.

She could feel him at the back of her head now, so she laid on the bed of sand, spreading out her limbs, submerging her body inside the cool, cold water, closing her eyes. All her troubles went away underwater as the ocean drenched her face, her scar, her arms and any unlocthed skin. Everything turned quiet. Harry's long hair floated like a black veil in the sea.

After the first bubble came out her lips, Harry broke the surface again, refreshingly drenched. She stood up from the shallow and dried her hair with a drying charm, then did the same to the rest of her body. The moment the water was gone, Harry missed the feel of it. She Accioed her clothes to her and put on her shirt first.

The doors yawned open, creaking inside Harry’s ears. Saying nothing, Harry pulled up her trousers next.

She was stuffing her socked feet into her trainers when she felt the bond open, and Voldemort step past the doors.

Harry stood up, and Voldemort was there, three feet away from her, a red-eyed skeleton draped in black robes.

“Did the knife find a mark?” he asked, his cold voice all around her, just like the wind.

Harry clenched her teeth. She held her head high, and said nothing. The less Voldemort knows, the better. Harry climbed up the sandy beach, brushing past Voldemort; the cloth of his robe brushed against the cotton of her red shirt.

A skeletal, strong hand latched around her forearm, pulling Harry back, turning her around.

When Harry was turned to him, the hand released her. She felt his eyes on her.

“You’ve grown thinner.”

Was that a note of worry in his voice?

“It’s the fugitive style.” said Harry, staring at his collar. “You should try it out. Does wonders for your brain.”

Voldemort hummed. He moved out of Harry's periohery, and started circling her. Harry heard the sound of his bare feet on the sand as they walked, smelled the snowflakes she came to connect to his scent. She even felt the warmth of his breath on her neck when he leaned in and whispered, “Why did you run, Harry? I wouldn’t have harmed you. I would have been merciful toward your friends.”

Harry feels wetness on her cheeks. Despite drying her clothes and hair, her face is still wet from swimming in the ocean.

Voldemort stops in front of her, blocking her view of the blue horizon of the sea. Harry looks up at him then. His serpentine features are tense, impatience clear on the ivory face.

Harry glares at him for stepping in her way.

There are many things Harry could say.

“How was robbing Dumbledore’s grave?” she asks instead.

The impatience momentarily shifts to surprise. Voldemort looked almost displeased Harry knew what he had done while she was busy crashing on the beach and holding a dying Dobby in her arms.

Voldemort's skeletal hand disappears into the pocket of his robe. It pulls out a wand of dark wood.

Harry already thinks it doesn't suit him. The bone yew suited Voldemort much better.

Voldemort lifts it, sweeps his fingers across the bumped edges, thoughtful.

“It is not as though he will be needing it. I deserve it.”

Harry feels so disappointed and somber no words come. What was the point of trying, anyway?

“You’re still taking things that don't belong to you.” said Harry, breaking the silence.

Voldemort lunged, fast as a viper, with blinding speed. His long, skeletal fingers wrapped around Harry's throat, holding her paralysed.

“You belong to me!” he hissed, nightmarish face dangerously close, red eyes scalding into her. Harry's heart stopped beating for a moment as she stared at the enraged face.

Harry watched the rage fade, the tension vanish from the snake-like face. The fingers restraining her like a python loosened their grip on her neck, and his hands travelled up her skin. His fingers brushed her ears, and the next moment, those same palms were cradling her face as though she was the most fragile thing in the world.

The hiss turned into a silky whisper. “You’re mine.”

Another beat of silence.

“Come home to me.”

The red eyes trailed along her face hungrily, his breath caressing her cheek, wintery cold in a blooming spring sun.

The hunger overtook his eyes, the slitted pupils expanding into exploding dark holes. It was the only warning Harry received. Not that she could have stepped away, anyway, not with her face caged between his palms.

Voldemort sealed his mouth over Harry’s, kissing her hungrily. The kiss was warm and scalding hot, sending electric tremors through the most tender, vulnerable parts of her. Her lips were parted, so Voldemort took advantage, driving his tongue inside her mouth.

Harry didn't move. Didn't make a sound. She let him kiss her, let him have it. Voldemort, greedy as he was, hungering for more, took as much as he could, curling his tongue around Harry's mouth, tasting her and her lips both.

When it got too much, when Harry couldn’t breathe anymore, she whimpered into him. Voldemort pulled away regrettably, releasing Harry from his affection, tongue and lips retreating. He was smiling so beautifully, like an overjoyed boy.

The smile fell when he saw the sadness on Harry's face. Confusion marred his face. He looked as though he had no idea what he’d done wrong.

Harry felt so sad over the fact — over the fact Voldemort thought there was nothing wrong with this — that she felt tears gather in her eyes.

Voldemort bent down and kissed Harry again, this one slow and tender, not as passionate. Harry didn’t know how many times he kissed her. She knew she kissed him back a few times, hoping it would make him stop. But it felt as though he knew her heart wasn't in it, and kept pressing for more, his fingers caressing her face adoringly, repeating “Come home to me.” between each kiss.

Harry returned to Shell Cottage an hour later, rushed to the bathroom, and cried.