#also i like how his hair and face looks its very silly and round

[lcec0ldheart]

Concept scribble of Violet’s brother?

I don’t think I’ve told you guys yet, but Violet has a younger half brother -Haven’t gotten around to drawing him yet, but I think I have some kind of idea of what he looks like now. His name is Crimson (it would be funny to name him Scarlet but nah) and he’s…around 10? A chaotic, charimastic kid that’s too clever for his own good and sometimes is a bit crazy but that’s what makes him fun! He’s shy with new people but once he’s comfortable with you, better hope he’s not gonna drag you into all kinds of hijinks. He’s a bit emotional and does care what you think and likes attention, even if he doesn’t say it. Sweet kid that makes mistakes.

(update: give me a bit after class him to shade but here it is. wait why does he look like a girl-)

[gallusrostromegalus]

You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

[tryingtofindava]

𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭*ೃ༄

tw: FEM READER!! And it talks about… well… smut.

: ̗̀➛Back to source

MORE UNDER THE CUT!!!

A = Aftercare

(what they’re like after sex…)

Because of his CIPA he probably won’t be able to feel the affects it had on his body, so if you yourself aren’t too tired out…

You’ll probably convince him the two of you can take a cold shower to get his body heat back to normal. (which may or may not result in a round 2…)

Other then that he’s making sure your comfy and cozy, and the two of you will probably just snuggle the rest of the night or day.

B = Body part

(their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners…)

He doesn’t like looking at himself that much, and tends to cover up as best as he could. (Which almost always leads to him nearly dying of heatstroke because he’ll refuse to take some layers off…)

His favourite part on you (other than your face) is your thighs, he likes smooshing his face against them.

C = Cum

(anything to do with cum…)

Depends…

If you’re on the pill he’s 100% giving you a creampie. He says he does it because it’s more intimate to him.

But if you’re not, he’s either doing it on your stomach, or tits. He ain’t wanting kids. (for more then one reason)

D = Dirty Secret

(its self explanatory…)

Not really a secret since you DEFINITELY know about it, but…

In his dresser drawer he’s has about 6 pairs of your panties. You discovered it when you remembered he had cough sweeties in his drawer and accidentally found them…

Best to just shut the drawer and pretend you never saw them in the first place. Or tease him about it. At least you know were your missing panties are now…

E = Experience

(how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You’re his second girlfriend ever. The first being Natalie. And the furthest they got in their relationship was kissing and cuddling, so he’s got them down.

So you were his first time, though he’s not the most experienced out there… He’s a quick learner AND he definitely makes up for it with enthusiasm. But he’s so so very loser-y about it.

F = Favorite positions

(take a wild guess…)

Toby’s top 5 favourite positions not in order!!

1) leap frog

2) cow girl

3) face off

4) ballet dancer

5) missionary

Though he is up to try any position once (maybe more if he REALLY likes it), these are just his go to.

G = Goofy

(are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc…)

He tries to take it as seriously as possible, because you are willing to do something so intimate with him? Of all people??

Though he can’t help but be at least a little silly during the deed.

H = Hair

(how well groomed are they?)

He’s not shaven clean, but he hasn’t got a bush either. Too much hair makes him feel icky. But he doesn’t have to shave often, Toby isn’t an overly hairy guy like Tim.

He’s got a patch of hair on his chin, armpits, and legs and arms. And his happy trail is top tier ¬‿¬

I = Intimacy

(how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect…)

Depends on his mood tbh, if it’s been a good day he’ll be extra romantic and sweet, praising you and how good you are. But if it’s a bad day, he’ll be rough to get his frustrations out (and even if he is being rough he’s still so gentle about it if ykwim, like he doesn’t wanna hurt you, but like yeah<3).

J = Jack off

(masturbation headcanon…)

He doesn’t do it as often as ppl think, though he still acts like a horny teen. At least jerks off two times a week sometimes more if he’s had a rough day. And he’d be a liar if he said he hasn’t jerked off with your panties.

K = Kink

(one or more of their kinks…)

Praise is a big one for him, he’s more of a giver, but likes receiving it as well. Tell him how good he’s making you feel, he’ll cum 10x faster.

And although he’s likes to praise you, he likes to degrade you too. But only a little.

Mommy kink? Maybeeeeee… Depends if you’re topping or not.

Marking: He’s a total slut for giving you hickeys, he likes putting them in the most obvious places for people to see. Double points if you don’t bother covering them up.

Dry humping. Don’t be shy, hop on his thigh and get to work.

He accidentally discovered his Voyeurism kink when he walked in on you masturbating. He didn’t mean to just stand there and watch… it’s just… you were too pretty to look away.

Mans loves some bondage, tying up your hands and legs is like his equivalent to a Christmas present.

L = Location

(favorite places to do the deed…)

Up against the wall, the bed, in the woods… he’s fine with doing it anywhere. It gives him a certain thrill doing it places were you could easily get caught.

But he does prefer doing it in secluded places like the bedroom, or in the shower. Rather than in public. In his mind, getting caught in public = having to stop sooner.

M = Motivation

(what turns them on, gets them going…)

Baby can pop a boner easily… You could be doing the simplest thing, stretching? Boner. Cleaning? Boner. Just talk to him In general? BONER ALERT!!!

And when he’s deep in you, and you’re making just the cutest little whimpers and moans? He’s not gonna stop as long as you keep that up.

N = Nuh uh

(something they wouldn't do, turn offs…)

Pls do not call him daddy, it makes him feel weird. And he’s not into spanking. No matter how much you say it’s okay. He doesn’t see what’s so enticing and sexy about hitting or harming a loved one.

O = Oral

(preference in giving or receiving…)

It’s 50/50 with him.

On one hand, he likes going down on you. Eating away at your messy cunt. AND WHEN HE DOES…

God does it feel good, he’s got snake bites and a tongue piercing. Feeling the metal studs against your heat is just automatically orgasmic.

“F-fuuckk, I-I think s-she luh-likes me.”

If you cum fast on his face it deffo gives him an ego boost… FEED HIS EGO!!

But he also loves when you’re sucking him off. Your pretty lips wrapped around him… how couldn’t he love it?

“Y-you can t-take wayyy more t-then that.”

He’ll stroke your hair, as he tries his best to refrain from head pushing. He’d hate if he accidentally harmed his good girl…

Р = Расе

(are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

He’ll start off slow, letting you adjust. But as time goes on he’ll just work himself up and hammer into you at an unbelievable speed.

Q = Quickie

(their opinions on quickies, how often they may occur…)

He prefers longer sessions so he can please the both of you. But, if he’s desperate… and you guys got places to be… It wouldn’t hurt rutting into you, right?

R = Risk

(are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

Barebacking. Toby claims that wearing a condom is suffocating. Even though he can’t feel things like that… Good thing he doesn’t have a weak pull out game.

Public sex. He has a weird fantasy that he doesn’t stop, even when he hears someone coming. A part of him wants to make the poor person who stumbled upon you two watch as he fills you up.

S = Stamina

(how many rounds can they go for/how long do they last?)

He’s got a super high libido, and can last about 3 rounds in bed, and at least 2 rounds in the shower afterwards.

And that’s only if he isn’t putting in his best effort…

T = Toys

(do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or on themselves?)

He doesn’t have any for himself, but he has a small white vibrator he uses to tease your clit and nipples.

U = Unfair

(how much they like to tease? And can they handle teasing?)

He can only tease you for a little bit before he gets too desperate and has to take you the second it gets a little too much.

He himself can also be teased for so long… Before he takes matters into his own hands, and you teasing completely backfires on yourself.

V = Volume

(how vocal are they doing the deed...)

HE IS NOISY!!

As he’s snapping his hips to yours, he’s babbling some random shit.

“S-so t-tight!”

“God… y-you love i-it like th-this, don’t cha?”

“Shit! Y-you’re c-clenc-ching!”

Half the time you can’t even make out what he’s saying. Other than that he just grunts and groans. ALMOST growling.

And bro WILL be speaking German too, it slips out sometimes.

W = Waking up afterwards

(how they are after waking up)

Though he can’t feel it, his muscles are slightly sore from pushing himself a bit too hard.

Besides that he’s gonna make sure you’re okay after the whole thing. And if you don’t wake up, he’ll just opt to fall back asleep snuggling into your chest.

X = X-ray

(let's see what's going on under those clothes(¬‿¬))

A surprising 6 inch, though not that girthy. Makes up for it in hitting ALL the right places. The tip gets redder depending on how worked up he is, leaning slightly to the left. With a vain running up it’s right side.

Y = Yearning

(how high is their sex drive?)

Bro is ABUSING The Operator strength, he can last for god knows how long. Without any breaks. He can go at it with you like a rabbit in heat.

Z = Zzz

(how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won’t fall asleep until he knows you’re completely comfortable and content with what happened.

He doesn’t mean to be creepy, but he’ll watch you sleep for a while. In case something comes up afterwards.

But once he’s asleep, he’s knocked out cold for the next few hours…

[raythekiller]

I love the masky nsfw alphabet It riled up my imagination.. soo can i request for a hoodie one?? Thank youu

🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ NSFW ALPHABET ❛ ✧

Featuring: Hoodie/Brian

# Notes: its that time of the year again where i make 1 post and disappear for the next seven months <3 also DAYUM new post format?? (also also theres a new toby drawing on the way stay tuned)

A - AFTERCARE

Surprisingly soft. Wants to hold you close and maybe take a shower together. Don't get things twisted though - it's so he can keep feeling your body against his instead of to comfort you. Call it possessiveness or an ego stroke, maybe.

B - BODY PART

Thighs man through and through. Thigh highs drive him up-the-wall insane. Will also just absentmindedly knead them if you're sitting next to him, especially if you're wearing shorts or a skirt/dress.

C - CUM

Oh he likes it messy. Just enjoys having his cum on you in general - backshots, face, dripping from you after he came inside, you name it.

D - DIRTY SECRET

None. He has no shame and is very open about what he likes.

E - EXPERIENCE

Not as much as you might expect, given his demeanour. Don't get me wrong, it's still a lot, but he makes it seem like he worked as a pornstar for a few years with sheer cockiness.

F - FAVORITE POSITION

If you ask him, he'll say "all of them". But if you put a gun to his head and tell him to choose, he'll settle for doggy. Just loves grabbing your hips and ass while he's pounding into you.

G - GOOFY

He doesn't exactly make jokes, but his teasing might be a bit funny at times. He doesn't mind making things more silly or lighthearted as long as you still cum at the end of it.

H - HAIR

Usually clean-shaven, but he might get a bit lazy with it occasionally. Always at least well trimmed though.

I - INTIMACY

Usually adapts to what you like best. If you just want to get your brains fucked out and keep romance out of it, he'll happily do it. If you like something more tender with lots of "I love you"s, he doesn't complain about it either.

J - JACK OFF

A lot. This guy has crazy stamina (we'll talk about that later), I'd say maybe five times per week or so.

K - KINK

A lot but mainly: CORRUPTION!! I've said it before and I'll say it again he wants to bring the worst out of you. If you're a virgin, he wants go be your first. If you're not, he wants to see just how wild things can get when he pushes you a little.

L - LOCATION

Literally anywhere. He is a fan of semi-public sex, though. In the woods, living room of the manor when (you think) there's no one else home, in a busted alleyway, you name it.

M - MOTIVATION

Oh it's very easy to turn him on. Here's a huge one though: when you take iniciative. He's used to being the one starting shit. When YOU do it, though? When you make it clear you want him to wreck you? Fucking hot.

N - NO

Very short but obvious list: anything to do with piss, shit or vomit. Other than that, I think he's pretty open. Not even averse to being submissive every now and then.

O - ORAL

HELL YEAH BABY! Giving, receiving, whatever, he doesn't care. His mouth isn't just good for talking shit — he knows how to use that tongue. When he's getting head, though? He looks so pretty — head thrown back, moaning and whimpering with a grin on his face. Might buck his hips into your mouth for giggles (and because you sound hot choking on him).

P - PACE

Again, he'll go for whatever gets you off. If you like it rough and fast, he's in. If you prefer slow and sensual, that's also hot.

Q - QUICKIE

Biggest quickie fan in the manor. He just can't help himself most of the time and he doesn't really try to, either. If his horny, you best bet he knows how to get you horny as well and things just go from there.

R - RISK

Loves experimenting and finding new ways to make you moan. Doesn't mind getting a bit freakier every now and then.

S - STAMINA

Jesus christ what are they feeding this man. Y'know when guys are like "I'm gonna fuck you all night long" and stop after two rounds max? This motherfucker is serious about it.

T - TOYS

I don't think he'd go out of his way to buy them, but if you already have them you best believe he's using it to his advantage. Big fan of vibrators.

U - UNFAIR

This guy is MEAN. He doesn't make you wait for too long before fucking you but just those few minutes feel like an eternity with the atrocities he's whispering in your ear.

V - VOLUME

LOUD. He moans, groans, whines, whimpers, you name it. Not ashamed to make some noise and LOVES if you're loud as well.

W - WILD CARD

Likes having his hair pulled— WHO SAID THAT???

X - X-RAY

7.4 inches, cut. Not too thick, just the right girth.

Y - YEARNING

Can't go like, a week without having sex or at least jacking off. Homeboy has a lot of steam he needs to let out.

Z - ZZZ

Only god knows how he doesn't pass out immediately after. Chances are you'll fall asleep before him.

[lunarw0rks]

Can I request a Philip Graves NSFW Alphabet

A/N: On second thought, I don't dislike his character as much as I thought I did... No particular reason, or anything 🫣

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), smut

Word Count: 3k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GRAVES MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Not the most delicate, but he tries, and that’s what matters.

Very cocky after sex, but that doesn’t diminish him from making sure his partner is alright (a glass of water, a caress of the reddened marks forming, etc.) Most common with him, some harmless jokes coming from his lips at your expense, all while he’s fixing the stray strands of hair he messed up in the process.

[ ❝ i’m not laughing at you, just couldn’t resist that look on your face, sweetheart ❞ ]

[ ❝ you’re not all shy now, are you? ❞ ]

In terms of actual aftercare, he would keep it short and sweet, handing you clothing items sent flying minutes before. Despite just doing the deed, Graves would turn his back and allow you to redress yourself, no matter how silly the gesture seemed in comparison to what he’d just done to you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself—not a body part, but his cheek scar. He thinks it makes him look super sexy, and definitely shows it off in photos. When he first met his S/O, he was practically crossing his fingers that they would ask about it, so he could heavily embellish its origin.

On a partner—an ass man through and through, no matter his partner's figure. His fingers roam constantly, resting on your hips and sliding downwards until he can cup it. It’s not always sexual, either, sometimes he just somewhere to rest his hands on you.

Just how many times did he ogle it before you two even said a word to one another? An embarrassing amount… And after there’s an established relationship? He doesn’t even try to hide it unless he’s around his coworkers.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s no secret, he likes cumming inside the most when he’s allowed.

But even if he is, there’s one place he likes even more—the chest. Whether his partner is fem or masc., he likes when it drips from their cleavage/sternum all the way down to the in between your thighs. It’s like his own personal way of marking his S/O, an he pictures when he needs a quick fantasy.

And there’s definitely a lot of it. Like, a lot. Sometimes, he wonders how there’s any left for the second round.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

(W/ prior consent, duh) Perhaps it’s his southern upbringing, his religious guilt for having such an “impure” fantasy. But a mix of corruption kink + bimbofication is his dirty secret—a partner whos clueless when it comes to sex, but also when he’s flirting with them, batting their lashes and fussing over their appearance. One where he can be their first, one where he has to explain each thing he’s doing, to talk the brainless partner through it, etc… 

[ ❝ I bet you’ve never even touched yourself… ❞ ]

[ ❝ touch yourself, right there… keep going. ❞ ]

[ ❝ you never done this before, hm? Does that feel good? ❞ ]

Even if he does this “roleplay” with a partner that’s not sexually inexperienced, or has a personality completely opposite to the one in the fantasy… if they’re willing to play the role, to let him indulge in it, he’d melt.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He definitely wasn’t always good at it, the man-whore lifestyle grew on him (lmao)

Years in the service, most of his intimacy was hookups, until he advanced through the ranks enough to mature and reserve more time for his romantic life. Though those serious relationships often fell apart, he gained a lot of skills from them—sexually, not with his communication.

By no means, is he a sex God, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know exactly what to do. As clueless as he is when it comes to nuisance or social cues, when intimacy is involved, Graves is surprisingly adaptable.

You didn’t like that, but you loved this? We’ll never do that other thing again, then—that type of attitude.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary—I mean, look at him. But that doesn’t mean it's not a stimulating experience; not at all. His partner’s legs would be as spread and controlled as he wanted them to be. His absolute favorite variation would be one leg up on his shoulder, the other hooked around his waist, that way both parties get the best angle, and he can keep a firm hand on his S/O’s thigh.

Cowgirl (+ reverse)—Adores it, probably would choose it every time if he didn’t enjoy switching things up so much. He has a full view of his S/O, all his favorite parts on display, whether they are facing him or not—and his hands can roam. Fingers dig into thighs, light smacks on their backside, gripping the chin to force a kiss, probably all in a matter of seconds.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Tries so hard to be a hardass, but it doesn’t suit him.

Sure, if there’s some roleplay involved, he can play that serious, dominant part with ease. But, casual intimacy with a partner? There’s a grimace on his face, or he’s chuckling at your reactions to his movements, whispering little lighthearted comments.

Being serious all day long has its downsides, so why not have a little fun… while having the other kind of fun? ;)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very well groomed, but not bald down there.

His hair doesn’t grow very thick, or very rapidly, so it’s relatively simple for him to keep it contained. The hair that is down there is super short, more like a short, blonde stubble.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Quite romantic, when the mood is right. A special day for you two, or a good day in general? He’s especially tender.

But I don’t get the feeling he would take too much time with his S/O… it’s not in his nature. There wouldn’t be candles or music, or rose petals, but his charming words and skilled hands would make up for any lack of showiness.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Probably has a strict routine, to do it every morning or every night, purely to relieve the stresses of his job, as opposed to pleasure. Sometimes, he’ll do it just to get to sleep that night, or when he’s deployed for months at a time and misses his S/O.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Crying kink: most arousing if his S/O wears eye makeup and it's ruined by the time he’s done, running down their cheeks from the tears brimming. Though he wouldn’t do it often, there might be some pain inflicted to induce the tears (w/ prior consent).

Dumbification kink: heavy on this one, because he knows he’s doing something right. Once his partner is unable to form sentences or let out sounds too loud to properly respond to him, it’s a rush to his ego. Though he likes verbal feedback, hell, even a conversation in the middle of sex, them being too deep in their own pleasure to speak is a turn-on for him.

Breath play (receiving): to put it bluntly, he’s too terrified to try this on a partner, for fear of hurting them. But to be choked by his S/O, or the air restricted in some other way, it’s definitely a lowkey turn-on for him. But, somehow he still remains in charge, all while gasping for air.

Breeding kink: quite vocal about this one, and he wants kids someday, so why not? (w/ prior consent) When not involving the whole pregnancy aspect, it’s just a pretty sight to look at for him—the aftermath of it oozing out and down his partner’s thighs.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s quite picky with his locations. Bed or car, those are his two most common places, anywhere else is pretty rare for him. Of course, there would be some sex in his office once in a blue moon, but that’s about as far as he would go. 

Bed—there’s way more opportunity for movement, less strain on each other’s bodies, and it’s somewhere you’re both familiar with. On the plus side, it’s much easier to strip and change the sheets, rather than sanitize an odd location after the deed.

Car—(Just look at him, he has a pickup truck. Don’t fight me on this) It’s purely his own fantasy, fucking his partner in his truck, especially when he’s on the move, or Graves simply couldn’t wait until you made it home. Definitely would keep a hand on your thigh during the drive, or if he was hinting at some car sex, it would slowly tease until you cave.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Visual teasing turns him on the most because he wants the smooth (or dirty 👀) talking to be left to him.

Most commonly, and most unbeknownst to you, when you’re busy with a task while wearing one of his shirts. (filling the dryer, placing a dish in the dishwasher, even just scrolling on your phone while bent over the counter). Even when fully clothed, it gets him, but most of all if you’re only wearing underwear underneath his shirt. Better yet, if you’re wearing nothing at all.

And he doesn’t always act on these motivations, sometimes he can’t because he’s halfway out the door. Other times, he just wants to savor the image as long as possible, to release the pent-up sexual frustration later, when it had all day to simmer.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There’s a lot he would do for his partner, but anything involving weapons, genuine pain, he won’t do it. If his partner wanted to roleplay, say some dub-con, he would do it just for them.

But full-on non-con, no preparation, no reciprocation, even if it’s just an act? He’s not into it. It’s not just vocal reassurances he needs, it’s physical—his partner touching him, wetness, begging, etc. He won’t be satisfied unless he can physically see them want it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving—an acquired taste for him, because he was once very inexperienced and awkward about it. It was never something that grossed him out or something he refused, but he was more worried about not doing it properly, despite how much his partner might be receptive to it. To make up for it, he always uses his hands at the same time, a sure way to make it pleasurable, just in case his tongue isn’t enough. Once he gets going though, once he learns every little sweet spot, he’s not coming up for air until he thinks the time is right.

Receiving—hear me out; I don’t think he enjoys getting head nearly as much as the average man. Of course, he would indulge himself if his partner was willing, perhaps wanting it every so often, but I feel it’s a rarity for him. When he does, he’s surprisingly gentle, only guiding his partner's head a small amount, and he prefers if the pace is slow and sloppy. He wouldn’t force you to your knees, bruise your throat, or yank your hair, not unless it was a fantasy of yours, of course.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Shockingly, he’s quite rough and fast, despite how unadorned his preferences are. In the act’s entirety, his pace is quick and rough, but not painful. He starts slow, but after being given any look of approval, he goes his usual unrelenting pace, all while his hands remain delicate. If his partner enjoys the fast pace, it’s perfect, and he would go until his body couldn’t.

If not: Once he’s gotten his climax, or he’s satisfied himself, he’s willing to go slower in favor of his partner’s pleasure, and only theirs. In fact, it’s almost immediately after he finishes—he doesn’t remove himself but slows himself to ensure his S/O will be just as satisfied. Slow, but deep thrusts no matter the position, just until they’ve finished.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He has a love/hate dynamic with quickies.

Little “joyrides” where he parks abruptly and has his way? Can’t get enough of it, and it’s merely a recurring fantasy. The same as, a quickie before he leaves for work? Finds it incredibly sexy if his partner stops him just before he’s out the door.

But, when his work is in the way of taking all the time he wants with you? That’s when he yearns for more time with his S/O, to get things done properly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Not often, unless you were really adamant about trying something new or risky. He’s pretty set in his ways, and he already knows what he likes.

[ ❝ you would like that, wouldn’t you? I’ll remember that… ❞ ]

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

A few rounds, give or take. 

He’s at his peak stamina when it’s been a while since you two had sex.

Besides, he’ll say he’s ❝ pacing himself ❞ when in actuality, he wants to make his partner need him, especially if they get desperate enough to outright ask for more. It’s a boost to his ego, it’s arousing, and you’ve affirmed his skills, all in one.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

During sex, he probably wouldn’t use them on his partner, unless they really, truly wanted him to. What better, than making them finish with only parts of his body? But if you want to add a toy to the mix, he’s not going to stop you, either.

Graves would be pretty clueless when it comes to toys, having never used one on himself or a partner. He’d be especially shocked if his S/O had their own already, but it’s not a threat—it’s a turn-on, for him to think about, how they satisfy themselves when it’s not him doing it. Deep down, he wants you to send him pictures using them, or suggestive messages when he’s away for months at a time.

To put it simply—he would rather visualize you using them solo, as opposed to him doing it to you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Outside of sex, as an act of foreplay or verbal teasing? He could do it all day; snide remarks to get his S/O needy touches that only last seconds, a suggestive noise/phrase coming out of his mouth like it's nothing.

[ ❝ Fuck… ❞ ] he practically moans it, waiting for the moan to draw you in, then: [ ❝ …this dinner is amazing ❞ ]

But as soon as you’re undressed in front of him? He wouldn’t be able to stand his own teasing for long, because all he wants is to get down to business. He would rather hear his partner finish, than whine when deprived of it, if that makes sense.

To be frank, he’s probably needier than any of his partners, always wanting to be bottomed out and making them feel the same pleasure he is.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Doesn’t look like it, but he’s quite vocal. Often similar to the intro of this video (Not p^rn, just a tiktok edit, I promise).

It’s constant talking, sometimes praise, other times he’s having a conversation with you in between his grunts. When he’s close, they become more drawn out and low, though his pace is only quickening.

[ ❝ almost there, sweetheart. Then I’ll do it again, just for you. ❞ ]

[ ❝ so sexy… and just for me. ❞ ]

[ ❝ love hearing you enjoy yourself like this, honey. ❞ ]

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This might be a strange one, but bear with me.

He secretly loves being on medical-leave, stuck at home and laid up, (not seriously injured), because he loves being fussed over deep down. Who doesn’t love soup brought to your bedside, extra cuddles at night… and a few favors ;) to ❝ ease his pain ❞

Plus, he doesn’t have to worry about getting up early and leaving you the next day, so your  favor  could go on for quite awhile…

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Body type: He’s lean and toned, but heavily defined. Relatively hairless on his chest, and back, even his happy trail isn’t very noticeable. Graves doesn’t look like someone with that much muscular definition, until he flexes or exerts himself.

In the pants: Above average in size, but not overly girthy, and it naturally curves upward very slightly. 2.5” IN girth, 4” IN when soft—6.8” IN when hard.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Quite high when he’s around his partner because they’re there to reciprocate it. But, surprisingly low when he’s away. He’s truly too stressed and exhausted to be thinking about sex, only does when he gets morning wood or has to relieve some of that tension by himself.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Doesn’t sleep much as it is, and he seems like the type to not sleep after sex.

The pillow talk continues, even if his partner’s eyes have drooped shut and they’re not listening to a word he’s saying. Head on his chest, or vice versa, talking about how good it was or probably telling some funny story about when he got stranded in the desert.

[ ❝ you’re better than I deserve, lettin’ me do that to you. ❞ ]

Sometimes, he’ll go back to his paperwork mere minutes after, a small apology escaping his lips when he does so. [ ❝ sorry, darlin’ ❞ ] or if the act was cut short, he’s not opposed to keeping one of his unoccupied hands on you (take that how you want).

[anachronismstellar]

Another day another scene from >Airplane vs The System< fic.

Should I post this on Ao3? Maybe, but that sounds like a Commitment(tm), and I'm pretending this is not a full fic lol so I'm posting here like is just a silly thing

There is a reference to another fun robot from a very good game released in 2007, if you get it I'll love you forever ❤️ fjsjskdjsk

Also, if you squint you can catch my fav mxtx baby showing up as a guest :D

TW: The System being a bully and uh torture? Nothing like canon tho

Hope you like it~!

----

Mobei-Jun became aware of himself slowly, like the first snow of the season. He wasn't able to feel his body, but his mind was there, commanding his fingers to bend, his head to turn left and right. Not that he had much to see, encased on an infinite white that made his eyes water.

Another thing that took too long to remember was how he ended up in such a situation. It was like trying to catch a slippery fish, the memory swimming away from him in the middle of a river of pain.

The only thing that kept him grounded was the memory of warm brown eyes and ink stained fingers. Shang Qinghua's face was a constant flash on Mobei-Jun's mind, but something kept making him flinch, there was something wrong with their last encounter, something that he couldn't-

“Oh, you're awake. Welcome Character_s201,” the Thing that looked like Shang Qinghua appeared in front of him, wearing something that seemed to be An Ding Peak robes, but didn't layer properly, as if the fabric kept melting against itself when the Thing moved.

Not that It moved much, it was like watching the shadow version of Qinghua, the Thing so still It looked like a doll. Mobei-Jun had faced many monsters throughout his life, none that actually chilled him to the bones such as the creature in front of him.

“There's no need to be scared, I won't hurt you,” It said as if It wasn't keeping Mobei-Jun bound to the wall, holding him so tight he could barely breathe. “You are here to complete a set of experiments to gather data. After the experiment, food will be provided, and you will be released.”

He said nothing back, focusing on keeping his eyes wide open. Could it be a shapeshifter? It would make sense, although no shapeshifter he had met behaved like that, they usually did their best to imitate their original forms to not attract suspicion. And a shapeshifter capable of knocking him out would be able to copy Qinghua's eyes.

A beat of silence passed between them, neither of them blinking. Then, as if It was seeing something to the side, it nodded, waving Its hand before changing forms right in front of Mobei-Jun.

Again, Mobei was an experienced demon. He had seen shit, as Qinghua would say, before even becoming Junshang's right hand. And after getting his title of Junshang's right hand, his encounter with weird creatures increased by leaps and bounds. He had seen shape-shifting done by different creatures and by magic, but nothing that could compare to what the Thing did.

It was like watching Junshang create a portal with Xin Mo, but instead of a tear in space and reality, it exploded in tiny multi-colored shards of glass, regrouping itself in a glimpse, the outfit now a neutral green and gray with accents of gold. Its face kept Qinghua's rounded shape, but the hair was mostly down, a small bun on top of Its head being held by a golden crown. The only thing it had kept the same were the eyes, still poison green that made Mobei's skin tingle as if a thousand fire ants were crawling over his body.

“Apologies for creating discomfort. Is this avatar more comfortable for interacting, Character_s201?”

Again Mobei kept his mouth shut. Whatever that thing was, it didn't want Mobei's comfort. He didn't believe in Its honeyed words either, what experiments? Was It going to torture him? What did It actually want?

“Character_s201 experience cannot be improved without proper feedback. Should I undo the avatar change?”

It was like he was listening to the words but couldn't grasp the meaning behind them. The most terrifying part was that the Thing sounded like Qinghua and Consort Shen when they thought no one could hear them. Was that the connection? Was this thing after Consort Shen? Or-

“Wh-” He tried to ask, the metallic taste on his mouth making him cough. The Thing approached, offering a ceramic cup with what seemed to be water, but Mobei wasn't stupid. He turned his face sideways, the movement bringing a searing pain to his neck, nausea and dizziness forcing him to close his eyes.

“There's no need for Character_s201 discomfort. Character_s201 health is important to not skew data results.” It insisted, grabbing Mobei-Jun's face, pressing the cup against his lips until he drank the liquid. He felt feverish, doing his best to spit on the Thing's face, but It did something to his tongue, as if it could control Mobei's body. He swallowed, the water healing his scratchy throat, but at what cost? It could have given him poison, or a truth serum, or-

“Water is important for Character_s201 maintenance. Now, Character_s201 experience cannot be improved without proper feedback. Should I undo the avatar change?”

Mobei-Jun felt himself sag, his wrists and legs burning as they held his weight. He was falling right into Its trap, spending his energy faster, becoming weaker.

“What's… An avatar?” He asked instead of physically fighting, but keeping his glare on the Thing. Which was good, because as soon as he asked, the Thing blinked, possibly for the first time since they had started talking, as if It had been caught by surprise by Mobei-Jun's question.

“An avatar is a graphical representation of a user, the user's character, or persona.” It explained after Its eyes flashed, blinking a couple of more times. “It's what Character_s201 would call my appearance.”

“It's fine,” Mobei-Jun grunted, agreeing with whatever nonsense the Thing was asking. Better a stranger than Qinghua's face, for sure.

“Understood. Avatar preferences updated. Now, shall we proceed?”

For the second time, the Thing pressed Its thumb against Mobei-Jun's demon mark, making the world around him plumb into darkness.

----

OK off I go to sleep now lol byeeeeee

[hotluncheddie]

middle aged chubby Steve? please? 😳🥺♥️

lovely anon!!!! hello!!!! middle aged chubby Steve is so important actually. middle aged, chubby, happy steve ❤️

-

middle aged steve who finally feels settled in life. feels safe, finally. who has really come to like the comfortable place his body has landed at. softer, a little round, but still with his jock base.

just older, happier, squishier.

steve who’s married to his, long long time love eddie munson. a half retired rockstar and part time dnd streamer. broadcasting with the band and whichever celebrity guest has been enticed by his dungeon master charm.

steve who becomes a fan favourite and background staple over the covid streams, sleepily kissing eddie on the cheek whenever he wakes up from a nap, unaware that the chat is being flooded with love for him. mostly about how cute they are, how nice it is to see older queers in happy heathy relationships. but there's also a good few comments about the way steve's shirt fits, the way his arms look, the peak of chest hair and the gravel in his voice from just waking up.

oh, and the glasses, the people love the glasses.

eddie gets asked about a picture of them that went viral during an interview. the host shows the screen grab of eddie trying and failing to block where you can see steve in the background, who’s stretching his hand above his head, belly button and faded scars just peaking out of his old cropped t-shirt, ‘i <3 hot moms’ stretched across his chest.

eddie laughs and mumbles his way though an explanation that the streams can be kinda last minute, his husband not always picking up on eddie’s doing them, not without his hearing aids. and yes he’s seen the picture, he thinks it’s funny, the t-shirt was stolen from his best friend robin.

the begging to have steve on screen or join in a whole stream get so big and so often that eddie gets overcome with jealousy. and its silly, he knows it is. knows its the just way the internet works, knows Steve doesn't have eyes for anyone but him. but, still, its the principal of the thing.

and then steve grow a moustache.

it’s just for fun, and because he think eddie will like it. eddie loves it. but unfortunately, so does his chat. so does the whole internet.

eddie posts a video, on the official stream page, of him ambushing steve with a petition he’s made, asking for the moustache to go.

eddie’s the sole signature.

Steve is fresh back from a walk, enjoying the spring sunshine, gold chain dangling into his chest hair and running shorts showing off tanned thighs, digging slightly into his hips.

steve pouts.

‘you’re too hot, the internet is too horny for you. shave the moustache and stop being a dilf.’ eddie explains. demands. pleads with his husband who is too hot and too comfortable being caught randomly by the stream camera.

Steve just leans on one hip, hand coming to his waist. other hand scratching at the stubble on his cheeks. his husband is so ridiculous.

but, eventually he agrees, to shave it. (once he gets eddie to admit, red faced, that’s its because he’s jealous and he does love the moustache. which steve finds very cute.)

he agrees to shave it. but only after halloween.

he wants to dress as hopper from the 80s. just to annoy him. eddie says ok, and enjoys it while it lasts.

[thefloorisbalaclava]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - NSFW A-Z Headcanons

[Masterlist]

A - Aftercare (what he is like after sex): He always cleans you up whether its a bath or shower or just him wiping you down in bed (because we all know he leaves your legs weak af). Surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly) he will cuddle.

B - Body part (his favorite body part of yours): He loves your lips. He loves kissing them, touching them, biting them. Of course, he loves when you use them on him whether you're kissing him all over or going down on him. The way they look when they're wrapped around his cock is enough to nearly send him over the edge each time.

C - Cum (where does he like to put it): He's a big fan of you swallowing, but before you do he wants to see it on your tongue. He also likes finishing inside you and making sure some gets on your inner thighs. Every now and then he wants to finish on your face or body just to make a mess of you.

D - Dirty secret (something only you know): He likes a little anal play. I mean...you playing with him, putting a finger up there and playing with his prostate gets him off harder than ever.

E - Experience (how experienced he is): This man definitely doesn't need any practice. He knows how to fuck, how to make love, how to use his tongue and those thick fingers. Even if it's his first time trying something, he catches on real quick.

F - Favorite position: I could say doggystyle, which he absolutely loves, but what he loves more is you on top. It doesn't necessarily mean you're in control because he will sit up, hold you tight, and fuck up into you with all his might. He gets to see your face as you fall apart on him.

G - Goofy (is he silly or playful during): Not really. He may throw you a smirk here and there, but most of the time he's too focused on getting you off to be silly.

H - Hair (does he manscape): He may do a little something, but not much. He isn't very hairy in the first place.

I - Intimacy (small romantic things he may do): He's big on holding your hand whether you're fucking or making love. Sometimes he'll even cup your cheek. A few times, your orgasms have been so intense that you cry and he will wipe and kiss your tears away.

J - Jack off (does he masturbate, how often...): He does but it's not a regular occurrence for him. Buuuut if we're talking mutual masturbation HELL YEAH. He loves when you watch him.

K - Kink: He has a panty kink. He makes you keep them on during sometimes. Maybe a breeding kink because he loves finishing inside you.

L - Location (where he likes to do it): He knows there's nothing better than a bed, but if y'all are out in the field and his blood is up after an intense moment, he will find any place he can to fuck you till you can't stand.

M - Motivation (what gets him in the mood): You. Plain and simple. It could be the way you look at him, the way you say his name, what you're wearing.

N - NO (something he absolutely will not do): Hit you. A spank here and there is fine, but do not ask him to hit you anywhere else even if it's for pleasure. That's a hard no for him.

O - Oral (giving or receiving, skill...): The man is a beast at oral and he would do it all day if he could. He's certainly a giver but he does not mind you going down on him. Something about you on your knees in front of him and being able to look down at you drives him crazy.

P - Pace (slow, fast, sensual...): He can do it anyway you like. He loves it rough, of course, because he loves making you fall apart and whimper. But he knows he can do that when being slow and sensual as well. He loves the intensity of being able to look into your eyes while taking you gently as well.

Q - Quickie (how does he feel about them): He's down for them but only once in a while.

R - Risk (experiment, trying new things): Yes, definitely. He will try anything at least once because he could end up enjoying it. Plus, he just has a hard time saying no to you.

S - Stamina (how long can he last, how many rounds): He lasts as long as you need him to. He's not stopping until you get off at least 4 times. And even when he does cum, it doesn't take long for him to get ready again.

T - Toy (does he own toys? use them?): You are the one who helped him experiment with them. He loves using them on you now. His favorite is using a vibrator on you while fucking you. He also loves using toys on you just so he can watch you get off.

U - Unfair (is he a tease): He can be sometimes but his favorite thing is to overstimulate you. You always have one more for him when he asks.

V - Volume (sounds, how loud): He can be pretty vocal. Moans and grunts, curses. He mostly talks dirty. He'd rather hear you make sounds for him.

W - Wildcard (random HC): He likes phone sex. He knows how much you like hearing him get off. He's also a pro at talking dirty so phone sex is so good with him.

X - X-ray (how's he hanging): He is bigger than average but he has more girth so the stretch gets you each time. Of course, he takes his time getting you ready and takes his time sliding into you.

Y - Yearning (sex drive): He's always yearning for you, but it doesn't have to be sex. He's content just kissing you for a while. Honestly, the man can go any time and any place because you're downright irresistible to him.

Z - (does he go right to sleep after or is there pillow talk): He rarely falls asleep immediately after because he needs to take care of you afterwards. He is more relaxed after though and he will talk to you. He will watch you fall asleep before he does.

[doodlebethel]

Hello! I love your Loth cat designs! And wanted to make my own since Disney hasn’t renewed its loth/Tooka cat products and are sold out (Plus I like your designs waaaay better). My biggest issue is figuring out how to made the head of your cute Loth cats 😅 I’m not on and unable to get onto Instagram could you post the story on how you designed it on here or give me some tips on how to make one? -thank you so much :)

Also, I’m designing the pattern of this one after a cheetah, I also love how you did the striped tail so I’m going to do that with black and white longer fur at the end. (I’ll need to trim it some though.) but any tips you could give would be much appreciated! 😄

Hi there! Thank you for reaching out, I will post roughly how I made the heads. However it's all the same techniques of making an art doll. There are great youtube tutorials out there which I watched to learn how to make my loth cats.

Long Post! Also heads up, they look really creepy until you put fur on them!

I used a styrofoam base for the head to keep it really light, loth cats have huge heads so it's important to keep the head light on the doll so it doesn't fall on it's face right away. Craft stores usually sell half spheres that I carved down to more of an oval shape to start.

I bought resin eyes on etsy and glued them on with hot glue. There are so many color options so have fun with them! I then used foam clay to add more shape to the face and make the eyes more natural looking. You can also probably use paper mache or another light air drying clay. But again keep the weight in mind.

I never worry about adding too many details as it will all be covered by faux fur, but having those shapes helps it look more realistic.

Next you enter what I call the creepy monkey phase. I usually paint the face a natural skin tone or the color of the fur so you can't see any gray.

I then attach the head to the body fur using glue. Next I cover the face in masking tape and draw the fur patterns I want onto it. This is a common fursuit head making technique. I recommend looking that up for more details on how to do that, but the photo below shows the steps I did.

*Note! Pay attention to the fur direction, on my tape pattern you can see the arrows showing which way the fur lays, use real animals as reference.

I then glued it on the face using fabric glue or hot glue. The more you cover at this point the less you have to flock later.

Once you have most of the face covered, you can cover any little gaps using a flocking technique. Basically laying down a layer of glue and then taking very short hairs of faux fur and pressing it into the glue. Again there are some great youtube tutorials on how to do it if you google "flocking art doll".

Below is my first loth cat showing how weird it looks. Trust the process! It will look silly and kinda bad right until the end.

Trim up any extra hairs that get in the way of the face, and next comes my favorite part, making them look like loth cats and not nightmare creatures!

I use sharpie fabric markers for the blacks and go around the eyes and mouth. This give them instant personality. You can also use some paints to add extra markings and color.

For the tail. I don't have any photos of the tail specifically, but here is the pieces of the pattern for the blue cat. The tail is basically just a rounded tube!

Good luck with your build! I would love to see the final project!

[findafight]

Okay but. Now I am thinking of transfem Evie Harrington starbara canon au where Barb is like. Preeetty sure she only likes girls. Possibly. But she's willing to give Steve a try. He's charming and goofy and listens when she says to cut out all that mean talk and is also, shockingly, very interested in her.

So she thinks sure, she'll try dating a boy. Feel like a normal teenage girl for a bit. It's fun and Steve listens when she tells him to back off. And she really does like him. So maybe she just likes mostly girls usually, and sometimes a boy. Mostly Steve, though.

But then she gets taken by the demogorgon and survives the Upside Down and everything is awful. Steve is still there, and he's worried and protective and so so glad she's back mostly safe. She thinks she might be a little in love with him.

They date, and it's nice and good and normal and Steve lets her set the pace with how to talk about the Upside Down. She does talk about it, and he talks about what happened in the right side up, and they both cry. Barb knows she loves him, and that he loves her. It's nice and comfortable, they kiss and have sex and saying it's love is probably fast but they've survived monsters apart, so now they want to stick together.

One day, maybe the spring or summer after round one, Barb convinces him to lay back and let her get him dolled up. They've got a free afternoon and she wants to practice doing someone else's makeup just in case. Also, it's fun. It's silly and they deserve a little silly. She doesn't really wear a lot of make up but she's got mascara, a couple colours of lipstick, rouge, and a whopping four different eyeshaddows. While Barb prefers the dark red lipstick, she thinks the lighter, cherry shade would be better for Steve. She curls his lashes (borrowed the curler from Nancy and forgot to give it back) and adds just a little pink eyeshadow, then blush around his cheeks. She's admittedly not very skilled or practiced, but it's definitely passable application. The finishing touch, though, is that Steve lets her style his hair, parting it to the side because of all the cowlicks, and letting its waves curl slightly around his face. She climbs off him and stands, looking down at him.

"oh. You make a very pretty girl, Stevie. Or. Hm... Evie, maybe? Wanna see?"

He pauses for a moment before crawling off his bed to the bathroom, and when he faces the mirror Barb can hear him stop breathing. It's just a moment, before he turns to her and smiles. Kisses her cheek and likely smears lipstick on it (which does give Barb a bit of a thrill, and little jolt of pleasure and longing and she doesn't want to think about that because she loves Steve. She knows she does. If people can be a little gay sometimes Barb can be a little Straight with Steve. She doesn't need lipstick on her cheek or to watch a skirt brush the ground or anything else like that when Steve is beside her.)

It isn't until after the tunnels that Steve brings it up. A week after, he's barely gotten the go ahead to slowly get back to school (he's able to do half days until the headaches get too much), they're laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, holding hands and just breathing together.

"Barbie?" He starts, and stops.

She hums, encouraging.

He sighs. "Do you remember when you...when you did my makeup?"

"yeah, I do."

"you called me Evie. Like my great Aunt, my favourite Aunt, I would've been named after if I was a girl instead of my great Uncle."

She turns her head to look at him, still staring at the ceiling, squeezing her hand tighter now.

"I did..."

"I need you to know I love you. I do. I really, really do."

She almost sits up, but stops herself. Whatever Steve is talking about is important, he's clutching her hand tightly but not looking at her. Instead, she squeezes back. "I love you too."

Steve's breath hitches. "I really liked it when you called me Evie." It's a whisper, a breath.

Barb squeezes his hand again.

"Barbie. I really, really, liked it. I wish it was my name." Finally he turns to face her, and his eyes are glossy. She reaches up to brush her fingers against a yellowing bruise on his cheek. "I wish I was that little girl that was named after her Great Aunt Evelyn and I could wear makeup like you did for me whenever I wanted and that I was a pretty girl."

Barb leans in to kiss softly, a brush of lips. "Maybe you are?" She doesn't know. Just knows that Steve, Evie? Is upset. She doesn't want to see someone she loves upset, and it seems like saying that may help. She doesn't know.

Breath hitches. "You think I can be? Just like that?"

Combing her fingers through her...through her lover's hair, Barb shrugs as best she can lying on her side. "I've never wanted to be a boy. But you want to be a girl. I think. I think maybe that's what makes you one?"

"yeah?" It's a tiny, cracking, word and Barb wishes she could help fix whatever grief is causing it.

"well. I don't think any people who aren't girls want to be girls."

Her lover shifts, enough that their foreheads touch. "And...would that be okay? For you? For...for us?"

Barb leans closer, so their lips brush when she speaks. "Pretty sure you're it for me, Evelyn Harrington. Whoever you decide you are, I'll love."

"and if I want to be your girlfriend?"

She grins, can't help pressing into a kiss. "Then I guess I've got the prettiest girlfriend in town."

Evie presses in for another kiss. "Mmh. No. I think that's me." Barb can feel her smiling against her lips.

[lonigiri]

eunseok nsfw alphabet

minors dni!

a=aftercare: he runs a bath for you, he knows he takes a lot out of you when you have sex so he makes sure to pamper you afterwards

b=body part: his favorite body part on himself are his hands. he loves his hands, more the hand prints that he leaves on your ass from how hard he slaps it. his favorite body part on you is your ass, he looovveess doggy so much because he can see the way your butt jiggles when his hips slap against it. loves leaving hand prints on your butt esp when he knows you'll be in a bikini the next day so the prints will be on display

c=cum: cums on ur ass and back and thighs, he isnt really a big fan of cumming inside of you honestly but he loves painting your skin with his cum

d=dirty secret: he LOVES when you pull his hair when hes eating you out, and just in general, he would never admit it bcs he knows you would make fun of him for sounding like a bottom

e=experience: hes pretty experienced, i wouldnt say his body count is through the roof but its not zero, he knows what he likes, and he also knows what you like and thats all the matters to him

f=favorite position: like i said before he loves doggy, or anything to do with ur ass being in the air, loves the way your ass jiggles

g=goofy: i wouldnt say hes "goofy" but i wouldnt say hes like serious either. but ig hes "serious" in this situation, hes not like cracking jokes or anything, ig you're the funny one bcs hes fucking you silly

h=hair: hes not like completely shaved down, but hes def trimmed, keeps the hair short bcs if ur sucking his dick he doesnt want his bush to get in your mouth he thinks its gross

i=intimacy: he is not super intimate, he will have intimate sex with you if its like your anniversary or something but its mostly rough

j=jack off: he doesnt masterbate like, ever, why should he if he has someone whos willing to do it for him whenever 😁

k=kink: impact play, loves slapping you around, slapping your ass, your face, your tits, and you love it as much as he does

l=location: hes not really a big fan of doing it anywhere besides the bedroom, but like if yall are watching a movie on the couch yall will do it there

m=motivation: he loves when you wear short skirts, or shorts, or anything that shows off your ass. he always tells you its only for him though, if you wear stuff like that around the guys he'll kill the guys for looking at you and then you for wearing it around them

n=no: doing anything with the other members, hes made it very clear that he would never include them in yalls sex life (not that you need it) he just thinks it should be between the two of you and no one else has to be involved

o=oral: goes both ways, he loves when you suck him off but he also loves eating you out, like he cannot choose which one he likes more

p=pace: fast and rough‼️ you can probably only count on one hand how many times you've had slow sex with eunseok

q=quickie: LOVEESSS quickies, since his schedule is so packed he can barely fit you in so when he can he makes the very most of it

r=risks: takes risks sometimes, not without asking you first ofc, he always says hes down to try anything once

s=stamina: he has so much stamina lord its crazy, he gets so hard so fast after cumming its crazy. he can probably go for 7 rounds without stopping 😭

t=toys: he doesnt really use toys, he doesnt think him or you will benefit from it

u=unfair: oh hes such a tease, he can do it forever without getting tired of it

v=volume: he doesnt really make sounds, he does talk dirty tho, calls you names like slut, whore etc,

w=wild card: when he first met you he thought you were the prettiest person ever, like genuinely he had never seen anyone like you before. he saw your pretty makeup, your eyelashes batting, and he knew he just wanted to ruin you, wanted to make your pretty makeup smear, have your long eyelashes wet with tears. and thats what he did, he had you screaming his name under him and that was just the first round.

x=xray: hes about 8" and hes pretty girthy, bro is not messing around with his cock 🥲

y=yearning: he doesnt think abt the act of having sex, he thinks about you in general more, just about how pretty you are, and then that gets him going

z=zzz: he doesnt fall asleep that quickly, he usually lets you fall asleep before him

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

please do not translate or steal my works! reblogs and likes always help!!

[iggyguyy]

if you ever wanna lore dump about your ocs I’m here I GRHRHRHEHKRHEJ I NEED TO MORE ABOUT THEM

You are now one of my favorite people ever I hope you know that <3

INSANELY LONG LORE DUMP UNDER READ ⚠️❌️

The over-all story of the silly guys:

It's about this 5 person band filled with weirdos in the very real Texas town named Round Top Senior (better version of round top). They live together in a small apartment and have a lot of playing gigs at the local all inclusive bar. Their main problem is money. Money for a new apartment. Their non human drummer is still growing, and is slowly outgrowing the current apartment. They are desperately looking for money to buy one that can actually house their huge drummer. One day this all changes when a 6th person gets sort of kidnapped by the banjo player and has to stay there for a while. No one really likes him and he has no idea how to act around neither queer people nor non humans. Chaos ensues when he finds himself slowly falling in love with the weirdo who got him in that situation in the first place...

THE 6 MAIN CHARACTERS:

Mama 🌞🪕: No one knows who or what he is, but he is sure there! His warm pink skin, his bright green hair and his huge chest make him very loved around the town; you'd recognise him anywhere! His species, age, gender, past and motives are all unknown, even to him. All he knows is that he likes stringed instruments (He plays the banjo, guitar, bass, electric guitar and harmonica) and that he loves befriending humans and learning more about them. There's something about him that really drives people to love him. His huge list of past lovers really shows this!

While most people (including him) don't know, he's actually an impressive 2723 years old. He's the last stander of a species that went extinct around year 700 B.C. I could do a post just about this species but good lord it's so much

He / him used on him mostly, he couldn't care less. He has a vagina and seems to be able to reproduce, no one has really tried. He has a very deep voice and a strong Cuban accent. 200 cm / 6'6 ft. Doesn't have body hair below the face, 0 fingernails and never wears underwear. He also REFUSES to wear shirts / cover his titties. His "titties" are actually holding a very sweet and intoxicating liquid, and the "lines" under his chest are shallow slits that excrete the smell of this liquid.

No Canon gender or sexuality but he will be with anyone who wants him. His favorite band is Buffalo Springfield. Old ass drawing but its still one of my favs!

Richard Kelly / Dickhead 🕶🎸: He thinks that he's the coolest guy ever but oh god he is STUPID! He tries so hard to be likeable that most people just end up hating him instead. From his neglectful parents and bullies in school, he's ended up being a very pretentious and dismissive person. He doesn't really "get" queer people, he thinks most people are beneath him and he doesn't even slightly respect non human people. Why is he even here? Good question! After getting mad at Mama for "stealing his girl" (His gf Jill broke up with him because he was yelling at her in front of Mama), he got so mad in his drunk state that he fainted mid-punch and woke up on Mama's couch the next day. The rest is history! He tries to pretend that he hates the band but oh god he's starting to love them so much. He also canonically loves goth girls.

He / him, cis male. 175 cm / 5'7 ft. Has a HUGE ass. Stubby beard paired with sad mustache. Cis straight man in the beginning of the show, cis BI man at the end! 25 years old, birthday is the 15th of August. His favorite band is Gorillaz. Haven't drawn him in ages whoopsies!

Julius Amadeus Usoro 🍎🥁: Big guy! This huge monstrosity is the head honcho of the band, their drummer and the one who owns the apartment! He has a huge fear of birds and insane abandonment issues. He tackles having 3 jobs at once, drummer for the band, ASL teacher for their deaf neighbour and he also teaches the drums! His other hobbies includes competitive eating, cooking, anything that has to do with apples, going on runs and walks, cooking even more, napping and cooking again. He is a mix between a sewerian and a Häll-horn, hence his purple skin! Most people just know him as "the demon" though. His brain is very small and he's not that bright, but he has a big heart and he is very loved by the band. He is illegal in many places and the band literally have to say that he's a guide dog to get out of some situations. The people of texas really don't like "demons". He legally adopted Marv in high school. Won't say his whole long ass backstory either but he was raised by a Russian lesbian couple who owned a big apple farm. He is also mute! He communicates through ASL or messy writing!

He / him, cis grayromantic bisexual male. 255 cm / 8'4 ft. 21 years old, birthday is the 10th of October. Huge titties on this guy. Gets winter fur but is pretty hairy all year round anyway! Paw-like hands. His favorite band is The Beatles.

His current design has him wearing headphones more times than not, but these old drawings still work to shoe his design :3

Marvin Juhani Usoro / Marv 🎺💣: The youngest in the band, but also the smartest by far! With 150 IQ and a concerning love for violence and explosives, this little pyromaniac is the main singer in this already weird band. He is completely blind, literally not having eyes at all under his opaque glasses, two of his limbs are amputated and his scarring is painful, so he uses his trusty crutch-cane wherever he goes. He's in and out of asylums and switches back and forth between psychologists, which is awful for him due to strong noscomephobia [fear of hospitals or care facilities]. He's diagnosed with bipolar disorder, autism and borderline personality disorder. His mother got killed by a faulty bomb he made, and his dad disowned him afterwards; making Julius and the band his only family. He was born in Borås, Sweden, to two Jewish finns, so he speaks english/finnish/swedish/jiddisch.

He / him, cis aroace sex+romance repulsed male. 177 cm / 5'9 ft. Big part of his nose gone due to explosion. 16 years old, birthday is the 3rd of March. His favorite band is either Insane Clown Posse or Children of bodom. Ignore that his foot is only missing on one drawing it's a pretty recent change !

[Dead name] Hernandez / Buddy 🎹🤙: They are the backbone and most street smart one in the band, without them the rest of them would be completely lost! They love messing with the others amd pulling small pranks. They're diagnosed with Adhd. As a side gig they like to play piano and sing during nights at the club without the band, usually with a bar specific backup crew. They are a recovering alcoholic and struggle with smoking. They used to be very ablelist and cruel to people, but they decided to leave that life and they're trying to become the bigger person. They write pretty much half of their songs [other half being by Julius], and being in this band is the best thing that ever happened to them. They've completely cut off the ties to their family who still lives back in Spain. They pride themself in their big amount of friends, always making sure to check in on them and hype them up. They don't use their dead name ever, except for legal instances, but it doesn't make them that uncomfortable so they can't be assed to legally change it.

Any pronouns, mostly they / them. AFAB genderfluid lesbian. They still view gender for them as fluid, but still primarily fem! They are 28 years old and their birthday is the 1st of April. 167 cm / 5'6. Their favorite band is Queen, but fav artist is Cass Elliot.

Dominic Smith / Dom 🎷🖼: The half raccoon half human who ran away from home and just happened to meet Julius! This sax playing maniac is so obsessed with Julius that he clings to him 24/7. He has autism, adhd, strong maladaptive daydreaming disorder and even stronger schizophrenia. He basically lives in his own little world and sees things as a jumbled mess of bland colours, and that's why he loves Julius and the band so much; they're a break from the same old same old! He grew up on a corn farm for most of his life, living with his mother and 2 older brothers. His dad was nowhere to be found, and Dom cant remember meeting him ever. He loves sporting his beautiful knockoff slipknot merch and jeans. He has a very hard time remembering things. His special interest is spongebob! [Although he calls him "monty spumbop" for whatever reason ?]

He/they/xe, amab but pretty much completely unlabeled. No one has ever explained the concept of gender to him in a way he understands, but if someone managed to do it he would most likely use xenogenders. He's silly like that. 155 cm / 5'1 ft tall. 19 years old, birthday is the 17th of January. His favorite band is slipknot.

SOMEWHAT IMPORTANT SIDECHARACTERS;

Barbra Scarlette Wilson / Barb 💄🎀: A 32 year old 190 cm tall texan dragqueen millionaire! He has the biggest, pinkest house in town, and he is PROUD of that! He uses he/him and is a cis gay man. His drag name is Scarlette Darling. He is absolute besties with Buddy and even gave them a specific pink flip phone that only has his number, so it's easier to contact him! He has a crush on Julius that pretty much everyone except Julius himself has noticed.

Kino 🟦💢: 29 year old unlabeled Häll-horn whos Ukrainian and Russian, very traditional one too. He has embraced the "demon" culture and is completely against all humans. He absolutely hates Julius because he thinks that he's a disappointment and embarrassment to the whole species, with how human influenced he is. He is very aggressive and mean.

Kaleb 🟥❔️: 20 year old trans ftm pansexual Sewerian whos Ukrainian, not very traditional one. He doesn't care too much about traditions or hating humans, he just wants to relax and live as he likes. The only reason he hangs around Kino is because they can relate over both being non human and "demons". He had to pretend to hate Julius just to make Kino happy, secretly he thinks Julius is extremely attractive so whoops that's not what Kino wants!

Oscar Pérez 🍊🍺: A 37 year old cis male gay human from Mexico. He used to date Mama and planned on getting married to him while Mama was in Mexico, after getting left alone completely randomly by him, Oscar swore to find him and get revenge on him. Now he's found him again, but he still loves him too much to go through with it. So now he's just in an abusive relationship with him instead! Oscar gets a lot of pent up anger he usually takes out on Mama, since he thinks he deserves it. Mama doesn't even remember who he is or that they're even together, but he still keeps letting Oscar treat him as if they're an item.

Jill Dimitry 🖤💫: Richards ex gf. She loves rock and is trying to learn the guitar. She is cis female and bisexual. She can get fed up very easily, so it's a surprise she didn't break up with Dickhead earlier! She doesn't talk to Richard anymore but she's talking to Buddy and Mama every now and then.

Rita Salvador ✏️💛: Julius' old high school roommate and girlfriend. She was a huge beatles fan and collected spongebob merchandise! She was a transfem autistic girlie who always wore her socks over her baggy sweatpants. She died when Marv was working on a bomb and accidentally knocked it to the floor, the explosion happening close enough to Rita to kill her, but only knock out Marv. Julius just lied to Marv and explained that she died of a heart attack, not wanting Marv to feel guilty. Rita named herself after the beatles song "Lovely Rita" !!

Alia 🌼🫒: The local florist shop owner! She sells handmade and homegrown bouquets and all kinds of flowers! She was very close friends with Rita. She loves meeting Julius during the week, even if she can't understand his ASL! She's a transfem Muslim who always sports her cool handmade skirts! ALSO SHE WAS CREATED BY THE LOVELY @animatronicthing [art in the photo below was made by schyr!!!!!!!!] GO CHECK THEM OUT

There are a few more characters worth mentioning who don't have a decided design or aren't that relevant but still!!!!!!!!:

The Abdullahi family. They are the band's neighbours whi recently moved here from Nigeria. Mrs. and Mr. Abdullahi don't know a lot of English, and their daughter Sani is deaf and autistic. Julius spends his free time teaching ASL to Sani!

War veteran neighbour: old man in wheelchair who lives across the street to the sillies and often goes out on his balcony at the same time as mama, making them greet each other every now and then.

Freddie: he's the local pizzeria owner and he absolutely loves getting visited by Dom and Julius, it really makes his day!!

That's pretty much all characters who are somewhat developed, but oh god there's more! TY sososososoosososoosososoososososoososo much for this ask i am literally going insane !!!!!!!!!

That's my sillies, bye ! ✌️

[ebonyslasher]

Spicy Alphabet: Ulquiorra Cifer

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Doesn’t exist. Ulquiorra takes care of himself. He will disappear., forcing you to care for yourself. He doesn’t say anything either. Rude as always.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ulquiqui: His facial expression. He keeps it wonderfully bland. It looks prettier that way. He doesn't have to subject his features to emotional trauma.

You: Your face, for some odd reason, is still appealing with all the expressions you make. He believes emotions are disgusting, as well as its expressions. But on you, it doesn't seem so bad. The beauty you hold transcends their disgust.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

They've never had sex and he views masturbation as a nasty habit. So, when they allow themself to climax, it's going to be hentai-level shots going off.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ulquiqui has a second set of genitalia that's pretty unexplainable. He has no idea what to do with it. If he allows you to get closer to him, maybe you can figure it out.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This man..this being? However Ulquiqui identifies (leans towards he/they), it'll be a hell fuck no on the experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Serious. What the hell is funny.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Groomed. Ulquiorra would never allow themselves to be so unkempt. Hn.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

No. And don’t take the way his eyes look in the moment seriously. and delete the compliments he's let slip through from your memory.  

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Such an activity is a waste of time. and a waste of seed he could spread on you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Abrasion play, corruption, spanking, degradation (giving), edging, fear play, tease and denial, Hair pulling etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere in Hueco Mundo

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Being coy but in a sly and clever way. Submission and acting helpless. Complimenting him and his skills, but not overwhelmingly so. Turning dark and emotionless over time. But then, still showing emotions they feel is taboo.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation (receiving), domination, vulgar language

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Gives. Not keen on receiving. But, he likes the taste and complexity of your genitals. Plus, your moans turn them on

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and rough

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes, usually for it. He doesn’t want it to be drawn out. Unless he’s in the mood to do a BDSM scene

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yeah, he doesn’t care about anyone. So they'll do risky stuff, even if it hurts. He’ll heal. You’ll figure it out (he’ll heal you anyway)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

High stamina but he’s got other things to do. So, the cut-off is two rounds. He allows it to last around 20 minutes.

If it's a scene, then they can go for 2 hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ulquiqui has props, not toys. He does not play. He will use his props on you. A few things you can use on him. Anal hooks, collars, leashes, flesh hooks, and so much more.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Very. When they feel like it, Ulquiorra will sexually torture you and make you cry in pain/pleasure.

"No, not there! I'm not ready!"

"You are and will forever be when dealing with me. Silly human. The pain will show your full beauty in bloom."

You don’t know if you’ll even finish or not.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Silent. Only thing you'll hear is their commands

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Oddly, Ulquiqui will get aroused when you change your look. Especially those that accentuate your Afro-centric features.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5.7

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Almost non-existent. He won’t admit that he does it for you only

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

There is no time for sleep. There are duties that need to be fulfilled.

[legrandepapillon]

maybe an easy prompt, but something that has been on my mind kinda based on theo's own gameplay and how mad he got at wyll for rizzing shadowheart up asdfghj

but, at any point of their relationship (pre, during, whatever act you prefer) astarion getting insane horrendously jealous of wyll's and shadowheart weirdo/weirdo friendship.

The Boldness Bloodwine Brings

Rating: M (to be on the safe side, there is no smut)

this one got away from me. i intended for it to be a drabble, just something idly written to pass my time & warm up to prompt filling, but it became a little bit more than that. the idea of astarion being jealous has always compelled me, and i got carried away.

i went with a distant post-game setting, so that i could work with a firm establishment of astarion & wyll’s relationship. i feel like if this had happened during game events or even before the epilogue, it might’ve been more of big deal than i made it here. also, i hope i give enough hints towards it but this is Astarion origin + Wyll romance + Avernus ending. Astarion’s party on my origin playthrough has been Karlach, Shadowheart & Wyll for Act 1 so that’s what i did here.

as far as shadowheart & wyll’s “weirdo relationship”, i looked for some of their banter but wasn’t confident that i could capture the two of them in that manner, so i just went with astarion going slightly crazy not quite girlfriend over the two of them. hope it’s still up to your tastes, anon!! thank you for the prompt, i had a lot of fun writing this

This is silly, really.

Astarion stews over his chalice topped with bloodwine, glaring over the din of his former—and some current—fellow adventurers with narrowed red eyes. Honestly, it’s all so inane. He should be positively luxuriating in the opportunity to be back on the material plane, spread over some velvet chaise longue with virgins offering up their wrists for him to suckle from like some overfed babe. Or in the very heart of Waterdeep’s noble elite, dressed in the finest silks from Amn and fattening his pockets with the jewels from drunk patriars. He even briefly contemplated an orgy the very picture of decadence and pleasure, the stench of sex and sweat and ecstasy laden beneath the smoke of freshly burning incense.

Or… well, perhaps that was shooting a bit for the stars. He doubts his dear Blade would content himself with hazy orgies. More of a romantic dinner and make love beneath the stars type, all told.

No matter whether or not he would’ve ever been able to convince Wyll to participate. Because Wyll is not at his side, lavishing him with unending attention and serenading him with prose so purple it’d attract the Kings of Calimshan and Cormyr alike.

No, Wyll is surrounded by Gale and Shadowheart telling some less-than thrilling tale of how they’d tricked a nupperibo into blindly waddling itself into its own demise. He imagines that Wyll, with all his honeyed words and dashing charm, makes the event sound a lot more thrilling than it was. In reality, Karlach had tripped right out of the bumbling blind idiots’ way and it’d face-planted into a boiling hot spring. It’s a story about as meaningless as ox shit, not at all as high-stakes as his dear Blade makes it sound, and hardly worth that stupid doe-eyed look Shadowheart is giving him.

Shadowheart. 

The grip on his chalice pales the knuckles around the middle, but Astarion rolls his eyes outwardly as his gaze lands on her.

She certainly looks more beautiful than she’d been tromping around in mud and dirt during their days of traveling, at least. Settled into a more peaceful life in the farmside, last Astarion had caught word of. Though if one were to attempt to guess by her dress tonight, farmhand may be the furthest thing from their mind. The Selunite way of life has sunken its fingers into her and held her tenderly, the gossamer white of her dress flowing like water round her ankles. Her whimsical white tresses have been taken into a braid by less-strict fingers, her hair fitting loosely and comfortably in the style as opposed to the tight black rope she swung around back on that beach. There’s a glint of something woven through with her braids, catching the evening light whenever she turns her head or tips it back to laugh. And her face… he hadn’t thought it possible, but perhaps without the burden of grief and loss leaning heavily on her shoulders, it’d smoothed out some of those worry lines in her forehead. Brightened up her eyes, made her smile more. She looks the fout of youth herself,  half-leaning on a wall and clutching a goblet of wine as she listens rapt on Wyll’s story. Entirely too young, by Astarion’s estimations. Truthfully, had he still possessed the desire to say flattery for the sake of saying it, he would compliment her on how well she’d gotten on in such a short time.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t. And can’t possibly think of a good reason to pay her a compliment now, while she fawns over Wyll like some buxom-bosomed maiden found a prince.

The thought almost makes him snarl, and when he catches himself, the tension withers from his shoulders. This is so… pathetic, banal, pointless, stupid. Astarion does not own Wyll—far from it. After each of them finally escaping the bondages of their former masters, able to go where they please and do as they please without someone tugging at the proverbial leash, they hardly were in a hurry to chain themselves to another. Wyll wanted romance, he knows it so. But in Avernus, the closest they could find was hot-mouthed embraces while resting at the House of Hope, or the lean of support following a particularly agonizing failure. As the Blade of Avernus, Wyll no longer had room for courting and romance like they’d had before the defeat of the Netherbrain. He tried whenever he could, by the Triad, he did. But there are no acorns filled with wishing magic or starlight beaches for dancing in Avernus and most of the wine had the lingering taste of ash or rotten eggs to it.

And Astarion was… well, he wasn’t dissatisfied with the arrangement. He quite enjoyed having just one man to bat his eyelashes at whenever he fancied, and kick into a different tent whenever he didn’t. His moods could change at the drop of copper, and Wyll went along with each one with hardly a murmur of dissent. Whenever they could sleep somewhere without having to worry about their heads being separated from their necks, he and Wyll did get up to a bit of romantic fun. And when there was no time for that, when it was nothing but the grind against mortar and pestle to behead sultry cambions or bully infernal mechanics into use… well, that was okay, too. A little well-presented carnage and chaos could just as well set his heart aflutter, Wyll surely knew that by now. He didn’t need something steady and storybook to feel desired. The way that Wyll always left his left flank open to keep a line of sight on him in battle, or how he kissed his knuckles in relief whenever they made it out of a scrap with a particularly dedicated group of abishai.

Wyll loves him in every way that matters. And he, albeit with great reluctance in admitting it aloud, loves him back.

So why does he feel so… unmoored at just how happy the young man looks with his equally young former companion. What is this acidic stirring in his chest, melting away all the genuinely good regards he’s used to keeping Shadowheart in? For nearly two years she’d been his ally, his partner, his co-conspirator and even his friend. How many times had the two of them sat on the very perimeters of camp, some vintage he’d nicked from a cellar filling their rusted bronze chalices, gossiping in Elvish about their companions until the wine tinged their pointed ears pink? She was more his friend than Wyll’s by any measure, even after she’d ditched her bitch of a dark goddess and turned towards living a life in light he couldn’t join her in. 

And yet all he can fantasize right now is sinking his canine into her jugular and drinking her dry so that she may never rest her pretty well-manicured fingers on Wyll Ravengard’s shoulder again.

A large warm hand clamps down on his shoulder, starling him from the satisfyingly murderous thoughts that had begun to inch their way forth. Astarion stumbles a bit in surprise, free hand twitching towards the menagerie of daggers he still has strapped all over his person out of habit alone. But it’s just Halsin—swaying a bit on his feet from the plentiful liquor, and smiling too widely for casual acquaintances. Astarion makes a show of tilting his head up haughtily to close some of that towering distance, and dusting off the spot on his shoulder that Halsin had touched. 

Though there’d been many changes from his friends in a year, Halsin seemed as though he was stuck frozen in time. The only visible differences being that his skin had taken on a deeper tan, and his warm green eyes had more wrinkles in the corners. Elsewise, he was still the big oafish elf they’d left behind in Reithwin. He, nor Wyll or Karlach, had gotten the chance to give a formal goodbye on the docks that day. But when Withers had managed to wrangle them all back together a few months on, they’d been bought enough time to escort him back to Reithwin before he helped them open a portal back to Avernus. He distinctly remembers patting Karlach’s back as she weeped, and promised that she’d fix her heart and come help in the rebuilding soon as she could. Halsin had in turn promised a cottage for them all, a little plot of land for them to grow their own livelihood. Settle down into a home after a life on the road. Wyll and Karlach alike had seemed enamored with the idea, but the thought of schlepping around in pig shit and feeding orphans has made Astarion’s spine recoil.

His mouth goes tight at the memory.

“Halsin. I see you haven’t gotten any bigger since I last saw you; fortune be for the Reithwin food supply.” 

His wry insult only draws a booming laugh from the chest of the man, and he claps another hand down—hard—over Astarion’s shoulder. Every muscle in the vampire’s body tenses, and he loosens his hold on his chalice only in the hopes to make the draw of a blade a bit faster should need be. Stabbing the towering tree of an elf might not produce molasses, but his blood would certainly be just as sweet if he kept touching him.

“And I see not even the Hells themselves could scare you straight into submission,” Halsin returns, with an easy smile. “All the glad to hear of it, my friend. You look well.”

“I look exhausted,” and he probably does. They’d portaled straight from the House of Hope to Gale’s rather decadent tower once they were sure it wasn’t some sort of trap. There’d hardly been time for more than a washing up and a change of clothing before they’d been whisked down to a full five-course dinner and as much alcohol as their bodies could tolerate. Astarion hadn’t had a moment to rest since they’d arrived…

… and more importantly, he hadn’t had a moment alone with Wyll. The thought sends him looking over his shoulder, catching eyes with the Blade himself. It seems as if Wyll was in the midst of sizing up the interaction, worried he might have to interfere before Halsin lost one of those paws. But when they lock eyes he smiles, and raises his glass in Astarion’s direction. Curse his feeble, weak, dead heart but he swears it flutters as he returns the gesture. It seems his misdeed of ignoring him tonight can be forgotten just that quickly. 

“Oh, and there’s no wondering as to why,” Halsin muses, having watched the brief interaction. “The thrill of young love. Unhesitatingly self-indulgent, and yet bewitching all the time. Between slaughtering devils and entrancing your Wyll, I doubt there’s much time for sleep.” 

There’s a playful wink and a nudge from the elf, but Astarion quickly bats him away like a disgruntled cat.

“It’s none of that; he’s not my Wyll. Even if it were, it’d be none of your damned business, druid. Don’t you have a schoolyard’s worth of progeny to be tending to?” He makes a show of looking around Gale’s spacious drawing room, but the only people there are a few old friends from the adventuring days and the Heroes of the Gate themselves. No wide-eyed sticky-fingered orphans in sight. “Where are the little devils tonight; I’ll know if my pockets are light, and I’ll know who to expect compensation from.”

“Worry not, Astarion. My children are back at home in Reithwin. They’re being watched by others in the town; it does take a village, as they say.”

“With your lot, it’d take a whole country,” grumbles Astarion, chasing the bitter taste of the talk of children with the bloodwine in his glass. The metallic undertones of the fermented blood adds a rather unusual flavor to the blackberry and herb. It provides both a refreshing quench to the ever-lingering blood thirst, and a lovely buzz beneath his flesh. Astarion can just almost disappear into his fantasies of being fed bloodwine by warm, amber tinted hands. The curve of horns against his cheek as lips wet from cherry wine press to his throat. A hot pink tongue chasing the dribble of wine that slips from the corner of his mouth, pushing it back into his own with all the youthful eagerness of a man made to please.

This one seems far more attainable than all the other half-baked fantasies he’d cooked up earlier. The only problem is… 

A tinkling laughter, louder now but just as delicate as it’d been back then. Shadowheart surprised by her own amusement hides her smile behind her glass, gaze resting warmly on the side of Wyll’s face. He’s half-turned towards her, hands gesticulating wildly into the air and evidently weaving another tale about their exploits into Avernus. Astarion bites down hard enough on his tongue that it draws blood. Still a novelty that he has enough blood in his system to draw it forth, he surprises himself with the pinch of pain and the sudden sluggish flow of inky near-black blood.

“Oh, enough of….” he half-mutters, slipping away from Halsin—who’d devolved into telling stories about his brats to a man that couldn’t care less. Astarion slinks across the drawing room towards the four gathered in the center of it, making a point to cut into the space between Shadowheart and Wyll. There’s plenty space opposite Gale to join in the conversation, but it’s so much more satisfactory to cut the proverbial thread that was the sliver of space that only just separated their shoulders.

The aforementioned woman doesn’t seem to pay any mind, merely shuffles over to accommodate the fourth body and flashes Astarion a genuine grin.

“Astarion! I was wondering when you’d come away from brooding in the shadows. Wyll has been telling us all about Avernus; sounds like you’ve become quite the hellish hero,” she appraises, raising her chalice to her lips. Astarion knows Shadowheart well enough to know it isn’t just the compliment she makes it sound like, but also a teasing about his capabilities. She doesn’t quite believe he’d slipped into the shoes of saving the helpless and slaying the wicked on his own accord. It seems everyone at this Gods forsaken party had caught wind of the love affair between the Blade and his sanguineous Dagger. Astarion has half a mind to appeal to Talos himself; make a real announcement of their amorous connection.

Perhaps maybe then Shadowheart would give him a wider berth.

“A hero implies that there is some sort of saving involved, sweet thing. In Avernus, there is no good or bad. Just us, and every other evil creature we stumble across. The only ‘heroism’ to be found there is in all that blood imps so eagerly offer up to prevent me from starving.”

There’s a grimace from Wyll around his mouthful of wine. “I’d hardly call that heroic, Star. You don’t tend to give them much of a choice; they don’t really offer so much as die screaming.”

The offhanded nickname seems to peak the interest of both Gale and Shadowheart, two sets of eyebrows raising to two hairlines. The wizard at least has the decency to cover his amused smile with his hand, though he cocks his head at the two of them as if he’s waiting any moment for Wyll to drop to his knee and make a sickening show.

“Star?” Shadowheart all but purrs, like a hungry cat that’s just come across the fattest mouse in the fields. “Well, now. There’s a story I’d be all too interested in hearing. When you two last left here, there were no pet names involved yet.”

Now, usually, Astarion would bat away the insinuation immediately. He’d insist that there were none still, because he was not Wyll’s star or sweetheart or anything else so juvenile. He’d bare his fangs at the lot of them, warn them off ever making mention of it again should they enjoy keeping their carotid artery tucked safely behind their jugular. In any other circumstance, he’d hiss and scowl and snarl at the very idea he’d allow himself to be roped into something so banal as a pet name. Like they were schoolchildren and not two men with some of the most powerful arch devils in the Hells calling for their heads.

In fact, from beside him, he can feel the tense in Wyll‘s shoulder as he expects him to do just that. When it was just the two of them in a tent or a room reserved at Hope, he could lavish Astarion with all the ‘my heart’s and ‘shining Star’s and lines from lovesick bards as he’d like. In fact, the vampire would display marked offense if he didn’t. But in public, most especially on the ever-dangerous roads of Avernus, letting anything overhear that there was someone you cared for was almost certainly signing their death warrant. He’d been chastised many times in his beginning for his open affection towards him, a wild-eyed Astarion so close to having something good for once and so pants-shittingly terrified at losing it.

Wyll was an affectionate lover, but he’d have to settle for the moments they could steal because there was too much death and hellfire around them for anything else.

But this time, Astarion leans into the man beside him. He drapes his arms over Wyll’s neck, rests his head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His chalice of wine sloshes against the edges uneasily with the sudden movement, causing Wyll to bring a hand up to his wrist and steady his grip. It’s perhaps the most tender embrace they’ve shared in front of someone other than Hope or Karlach since they’d first left that dock for Avernus. It’s a deliberate show of their relationship. The thing that Astarion danced in and out of most days, dead heart so full of his foolish Blade and simultaneously so worried about putting him in danger by showing it. Let it not be said that Astarion Ancunín has no love in his body for the red-eyed man who he’d saved the world with. In front of all their closest friends and—dare he say it?—family, he makes a rather bold show of clinging to his fiancé.

The acorn he’d had strung along a bit of gold suddenly feels all too heavy beneath his silks and lace, resting right over his unbeating heart. But Astarion decides the minute discomfort with PDA is worth the way Shadowheart gives the couple a bit more space, a surprised flush to those porcelain cheeks.

Check.

“Well, a lot has changed between now and then. We are quite serious about each other, you know?”

“We always have been, to my knowledge,” Wyll chuckles, patting Astarion’s wrist. “but there’s little time for me to do things the proper way back in Avernus. We make do with what time together we can find.”

“And every moment is absolutely electrifying, wouldn’t you say, darling?” purrs Astarion, peering up into Wyll’s one functioning eye with something lascivious in his own. Shadowheart is practically teeming with intrigue at all the racy details of their bedroom; something far more intriguing than the slaughter of kobolds and bone fiends. Gale gives a small noise of disgust whilst rolling his eyes, though he doesn’t seem to make a move to leave either.

“Yes, Wyll certainly kept his little tricks close to his chest before but now… he’s quite the consummate lover.”

Though he says it to Wyll, his red eyes bore into Shadowheart’s gentle green ones as the words leave his mouth—a proverbial dog pissing on his post. He loves me, wants me, fucks me, and that’s how it’ll stay. He’s laying it on a bit thick now, surely. But the only one that seems to notice anything is amiss is the man himself, who quirks a confused eyebrow.

After two centuries with his sex life belonging to everyone but himself, Astarion didn’t often like to discuss what they got up to privately. Aside from the occasional bawdy joke with Karlach about ‘sheathing the Blade’, he didn’t tend to go handing out details about their bedroom so cavalierly. All the same to Wyll; far from a prude by now, but he’d rather some things stay sacred between the two of them. Public displays of affection aside, they didn’t talk about sex if they didn’t want to. And they didn’t want to… usually.

“I see the wines loosened that tongue of yours,” Gale appraises after a cough of surprise. The older man rocks forth on the ball on his feet, hands clasped behind his back and chin nudging in the direction of his cup. “Glad to see the bloodwine is up to snuff, Astarion.”

A glance from both Wyll and Astarion down to the chalice in his hand, a dawning on the latters expression as his half-baked plan forms another step. Truth is, Astarion isn’t fully aware yet that he’s making an ass out of himself. He doesn’t know… what he’s doing, per se. But Gale delivers an out to him so smoothly, he would kiss the man square on his lips if he wasn’t so appalled at the idea. Leaning into an overt display of drunkenness, he rests more of his weight across Wyll’s shoulders. 

“I don’t need to be drunk to tell you just how mighty the blade can—”

“—Alright, Astarion!” Wyll finally exclaims. The flush of blood to his face isn’t noticeable by eye, but Astarion smells it as it fills the apples of his cheeks in a sudden tidal wave. It’s all too intoxicating, far more than the mediocre bloodwine that Gale had proferred for him. There’s no show in the way he leans closer to chase the scent, which has Wyll clutching his waist now instead to maintain their shared balance. “Maybe we should get you some sleep, before all of Waterdeep knows what we get up to in private.”

“Maybe not all of Waterdeep,” Shadowheart returns warmly. “After all, Gale’s mother is nowhere to be found.”

“Hey! I resent that!” exclaims the man on his mother’s behalf, which only entices one of those sweet little laughs from their cleric. Wyll politely excuses the both of them from conversation before he can get roped into whether or not Morena Dekarios’ tongue is obliged to a bit of gossip. He passes his own glass to Gale and plucks Astarion’s from his fingers to hand over to Shadowheart, before securing a strong arm around the shorter man’s waist and hauling most of his weight to the staircase. 

He plays his part the whole way up, bumping him into the banister and tripping over his feet at the landing. It certainly isn’t the first time he’s played up the illusion of intoxication for someone else’s benefit. There was a certain breed of individual back in Baldur’s Gate that quite liked the idea of having someone that couldn’t quite tell whether or not they were being had. Astarion had perfected all sorts of tricks for seduction over two-hundred years, this is perhaps one of the most popular. Unlike the marks he’d targeted back in the Gate, though, Wyll’s hands do not wander beneath his waistline. He does not grope or molest, merely anchors his partner in a strong, steady grip as he maneuvers them up what seems to be unending flights of stairs.

Astarion waits until they’re safely within the bedroom Gale had offered them to drop the act—righting himself to steady feet and fixing the wrinkles from his waistcoat. He floats elegantly over to the vanity and settles down, picking up a fresh handkerchief and dampening it to begin removing the kohl from around his eyes. 

Wyll splutters in surprise behind him.

“Oh, Wyll, seriously dear,” Astarion leans over the chair of his vanity. “You didn’t really think I’d get drunk off of a few glasses of donkey piss, did you? My tastes are far more eclectic than that.”

The man shakes his head at his partner, collapsing with palpable exhaustion at the foot of the bed they share. “Gale had it brewed especially for you, Astarion, how was I to—nevermind that. Why did you pretend to be drunk?” 

Why did he? The only answer that presents itself, bright and clear at the forefront of his mind, is because he’d wanted to get Wyll’s attention away from Shadowheart. At the moment it’d made complete sense, but as he deliberates on it more, he doesn’t know why he’d wanted that either. What exactly had it been about her proximity to Wyll that had disturbed him so much he felt the need to cut into their conversation, make lascivious innuendos towards their sex life, and then pretend to be so inebriated he could hardly stand? What was that stinging, acidic feeling right in the center of his chest? Blooming in the space between his lungs and his heart, making the former constrict and the latter weigh so heavy? The way she batted her fingers against his shoulder, laughed at his jokes, smiled coyly over her wine… she’d done it all before, when they were on the road together. Battling against a giant mind control brain and the Chosen of the Dead Gods. It hadn’t bothered him then. So why did it bother him now? What was it about Wyll and Shadowheart laughing together that made him want rip her throat out and curse him to Arvandor and back?

Lips turning down into a scowl, he turns back to face the mirror. In the reflection he can only see the array of powders and creams he’d demanded of Gale’s house servant, and Wyll in the distant corner—now moved to light candles around the room. 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” echoes the man, striking another match to light the lamp on Astarion’s bedside. “You just randomly decided to play at being a drunk for the fun of it?”

“Yes, exactly that,” the vampire agrees, flashing his lover a false smile over his shoulder. “Wasn’t it fun?”

“No, not really. You’re too heavy to half-carry up that many flights of stairs for no good reason,” Wyll crosses the space now, coming to stand behind Astarion. A hand reaches forward, hesitating only when the paler man flinches by instinct. “May I?”

“You may,” he sniffs, anchored by the sight of Wyll in the reflection of the mirror. Battle-calloused fingers gently tug the silk neck cloth from its spot tucked his doublet, exposing more planes of pale white flesh. Careful with Astarion’s niceties as he knows the man doesn’t get much chance to wear them, he folds the cloth neatly before leaning down to take one of his hands. Crimson eyes track his movements intently in the mirror, watching as Wyll first kisses each knuckle before sliding his rings from the accompanying finger. The jewels clatter loudly onto the varnished wood of Gale’s vanity, a mix of stolen gold bands and sweetly purchased sapphire gems. Wyll takes the other hand when he’s done with the first, repeating the process just as meticulously as he’d done before.

It’s in moments like this that Astarion can feel every muscle in his body finally relax. He spent most of his days walking around on the tips of his toes, constantly bolstering himself for the next catastrophe. Jumping straight from Cazador’s commands into the mix of Gods and cultists into literal actual real hell had done nothing to soothe any tensions. He was tightly wound at all times, constantly ready to brace or fight or flee. It wasn’t until Wyll took him in his rough hunters hands, deliberately and delicately unwound him bit by bit, that he got to experience what it felt like to be at ease. To be protected by someone, so safe with them that getting comfortable for a moment wouldn’t become an immediate death sentence.

Astarion sighs at the thought. It isn’t the first time it’s fluttered across his mind, alone with him. You make me feel safe. Like there’s nothing on Earth I have to worry about besides you. I hate it because of how much I love it. I’m so afraid of getting used to it, because once I do I know I’d destroy anything that tried to get between us. By the Gods, Wyll, I’m alarmingly in love with you. 

He doesn’t realize his eyes have fluttered closed until he feels a kiss press to each of his eyelids. Any other time he’d roll his eyes at such treacly sentimentality. But he can’t bring himself to ruin this for Wyll; especially not after he’s already ruined his night.

Red eyes fly open at the thought. They land on where Wyll is slowly unbuttoning his doublet; no ulterior motive behind those nimble fingers beyond getting him into more comfortable clothing. Astarion brings his hand to cover Wyll’s, cool fingers immediately sending a small shiver through the younger man’s flesh.

“Darling, you would tell me if I’d ruined the night, wouldn’t you?” he asks softly. Vulnerably. His voice trembles at the end of the question, brow furrowing deeply at the thought. He still hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of all the conflicting feelings that’d driven him to calling the night early. All told, he’d been having a grand time for most of the evening. They’d commiserated Karlach’s inability to leave Avernus to join the reunion, but had all gotten together to create a message on one of Rolan’s fancy projectors to take back to her. That had been followed up by Alfira strumming the strings to her lyre, kicking them up into song worthy of the most ribald dance hall. Between the long-fermented bloodwine—about as strong as mead but delicious as blackberry wine—and Wyll leading him in a few dances in Gale’s more than spacious sunroom, Astarion had believed he’d been having fun at first.

But then the party had quieted down, dinner and alcohol had kicked in and loud revelry had broken into quieter conversations throughout the downstairs of Gale’s home. He doesn’t know when he’d planted himself in that shadowy corner, or why he’d stayed there instead of joining the conversation with his friends. He doesn’t know why Shadowheart’s comfortable familiarity with Wyll had made him so annoyed, nor does he know why he’d chosen to call their night over it. But here and now, he does feel the guilt begin to worm itself into his chest right under that heavy burning feeling from earlier that still persists.

Wyll had given up so much of his life for others already. He’d given up his home in Baldur’s Gate to save the city, he’d given up chasing his own liberation from his pact to save it again, and he’d given up guaranteed safety as its Duke to save Karlach. Though in the time between now and then, Astarion had forced him into selfishness practically by dagger-point on more than one occasion, he could still catch him giving things up. Like tonight, giving up the fun conversation he’d been having with Shadowheart and Gale to tend to his selfish vampire partner.

“—Astarion, Astarion,” Wyll insists, squeezing his hands. He hadn’t realized he’d retreated so visibly into his thoughts, but when he blinks at the man, there’s a flicker of relief on his face. “My star, what ever could make you think you ruined my night?”

“Well, I don’t know. You were talking to Shadowheart. You seemed to really enjoy telling her all about your tales of heroism—she enjoyed listening to them, too, from what I can tell. I just hope that my flight of fancy hadn’t ruined your evening, that’s all.” He says it with a nonchalant air, a shrug to his shoulder and gaze askance as though the words leaving his mouth have no meaning to them at all. But there’s too much jerkiness to his movements and solemnity to his tone for it to ever be believed that he’s as apathetic to the matter as he claims.

“My evening with… Shadowheart?” says Wyll slowly, somehow confused and discerning all at once. As though he can’t parse where this is coming from, but he’s beginning to put the pieces into place. Astarion gestures limply in response, which isn’t much of a response at all. “Astarion. Did you think I was flirting with Shadowheart?”

“Oh, Heavens no,” A moment of relief on the face of the man kneeling in front of him. “You are rarely so bold. But she was flirting with you.”

Wyll splutters, entirely aghast at the notion. There’s that delicious smell of all his blood rushing to his cheeks again, and Astarion is suddenly reminded that the deer he’d drained for Halsin to butcher before dinner is the last time he’d eaten. His mouth salivates with the thought of helping Wyll with some of that misappropriated blood, but before his mind can get ahead of him, the man himself is gripping both of his hands so tightly he thinks they might actually lose a little color in the tips. Another novelty of a regulated diet, his skin was perhaps not as sickly pale as it’d been at first. He had the barest hints of color to his extremities, just enough to pass as elven in the right lantern light. 

“Astarion. She didn’t tell you?” Wyll asks, a twinge of amusement in his voice. “She and Karlach—they’ve been speaking through sending since our first time resting at the House of Hope. They’re smitten with each other, quite frankly. I was telling her stories about Karlach; it seemed to lift her spirits from the fact that she couldn’t be here tonight.”

The vampire spawn blanches, slowly connecting the dots. He can recall brief conversations between Blade and Warrior of Avernus, offhanded mentions of the moon cleric back on the material plane. Between their hunit for Zariel’s head, an internal mechanic worth his spit and the amount of fiends and devils sent to collect their head, he hadn’t bothered to put much thought into it before.

But the seemingly never ending supply of parchment and sending stones that Hope kept them in stock with, the bundle of letters that Karlach guarded with all the ferocity of a junkyard dog, and the dopey smile whenever anyone mentioned their old adventuring days around the tiefling… he doesn’t know how he didn’t put it together before. There was obviously someone waiting for her back here, someone she was eager to get back to.

“She… and Karlach… really? This whole time?”

“How could you not know?” chuckles Wyll, his good eye twinkling with bemusement. Whether at his reaction or the situation at large, the pale elf isn’t interested in determining. “Karlach practically bowls you over whenever we manage to get letters from this plane.”

“Oh, for all I could have guessed, she’d subscribed to one of Halsin’s adopt-a-bloody-orphan programs and was tracking the progress of her new progeny!”

“Astarion, were you jealous of Shadowheart?” continues the younger man, genuinely looking like he’s on the edge of devolving into full-out laughter. Astarion glares at him in return, mouth twisted into a scowl at the mirth that spreads from the smile on his lips to the red-iris of his working eye. But against all of his better judgment to protest and scoff and and lie and deny, deny, deny, he knows two things. He’s already revealed his hand to the man, and even if he hadn’t, Wyll would see right through him regardless.

For a man with only half his vision, he had a funny way of doing that. 

Still, he won’t also give him the satisfaction of a response. So he just stares at him indignantly, until Wyll finally cracks and dissolves into a fit of—admittedly, politely restrained—laughter masked beneath a hand cupped over his mouth. Astarion rolls his eyes at him, shoving the man away to return back to all the fancy hair and facial care that he’d made Gale’s housekeep go through the pain of finding for him. Whilst Wyll has a proper laugh at his expense, he finishes wiping his face clean from all of the maquillage he’d used.

After the laughter spans into minutes, he gives a huff of annoyance. “Alright, you’ve had your fun!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, my love,” Wyll returns, still wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eyes. “It’s just—you really were—and of Shadowheart no less?! What could you possibly have to be jealous of when it comes to Shadowheart? I’ve never paid her more than half a glance. All the time I’ve known her, and I still don’t even know the woman’s real name. Let alone have any desire to take her to bed!”

“Lots of things can happen in half a glance, Wyll, I don’t know!” huffs Astarion. “She looked gorgeous. Youthful. And she would probably be a more sensible fit on your arm than… well—”

“Nobody is more perfect for me than you, Astarion.” Blood-red eyes flicker up at this, mouth slightly agape. Not at the words; he’d heard some variant of them a million times before. But rather how quickly they come, as if Wyll didn’t have to think a moment before saying something so impossibly virtuous. The sizzling, acidic sensation beneath his chest begins to ebb away finally—replaced by that inexplicable fluttering of earlier. “You don’t believe me, my heart? What else do I have to do to show you? What words can I say to prove it?”

Floundering like a beached fish, no snarky retort or dismissive platitude comes to mind. Wyll closes the little space between them so effortlessly, a large hand coming up to swipe an errant curl from the vampire’s forehead. That same hand trails down, clutching both of Astarion’s hands between his own with the conviction of a pious man come to pray. His fingers gently squeeze at the man’s knuckles, his eye trails languidly over his lover’s face before finally landing contentedly on his own gaze. If looking at someone you love could provide sustenance, Wyll might be satisfied for the rest of his days—he drinks in the bewilderment in those scarlet red eyes, silent for several long moments in his contendedness to just admire his darling. The fluttering in Astarion’s chest becomes a war drum, pounding so hard against his ribcage it feels as though the bedeviled thing is trying to rip through his chest cavity and run into Wyll’s arms. 

Love must make people delusional, because he’d been certain that his heart couldn’t beat anymore after his undeath.

When Wyll speaks again, it’s with that dashing confidence of his. As if there was little more he could be sure of than this.

“You’re all that’s on my mind, all that lives within my heart. The truth to every word I speak, the spring beneath every step, the purpose behind every drawing breath,” he brings their hands to his lips, breath warm against ever-cool digits. Presses a sweet kiss to the spot where deep amber skin meets milky white. “My sun, my sky, my moon and my stars. Astarion, it’s you. In every dream, in every fantasy, in every desire. It’s always you and only you.”

Before his adventures with his friends and his descent into the Hells, Astarion had been sure he’d discovered every way someone could be knocked breathless. A punch to the stomach, a dizzying hit to the temple, a sudden stab to the lungs. He’s endured an uncountable about of torment and injustice alike, all that had been rather adept in reminding him that he was dead and even the air he bothered to breathe was useless.

Yet it wasn’t until he met Wyll Ravengard that he came to understand how not only mere words could knock him breathless, but how the feeling could be accompanied by thrilling euphoria as opposed to the usual sinking dread.

Whenever he begins to doubt the man, even for the smallest of moments, there was always Wyll to swoop in to remind him. This storybook prince of a hero, how had it taken two hundred years for some God to finally hear his prayers?

Perhaps unnerved by the silence, Wyll gives another squeeze to his hands. “Astarion… my heart? Are you alright?”

“That,” a gust of air he doesn’t need leaves his lips, as he stares wild-eyed at the man in front of him. Slowly sorting his thoughts; placing all of the sickly sweet love confessions of his own aside, choosing something that was perhaps more on brand. “was the most erotic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

And it’s not even a lie, to boot. He’s must be getting better at this whole romance deal.

“Astarion, it wasn’t meant to be erotic. I was trying to tell you that I love—”

“Oh, I know what you were trying to do. I don’t happen to get much say in what my dick finds attractive.”

A wince from Wyll, a flicker of concern that he recognizes well. Sometimes he fell back into old habits, unsure ofof any other way to show his genuine affection for the man. It’s obvious he worries now that this is what Astarion is doing, because he begins to draw away. “Star…” In an act of reassurance of his own, the rogue surges forward. Places two hands on either side of Wyll’s face, pulls him in for a kiss. “… mm!” 

They both taste of blackberry wine; Astarion’s lips a touch more metallic than Wyll’s own. It would be nauseatingly sweet, in any other context. The taste of fruits or the way his thumb caresses Wyll’s cheek or the saccharine little request for permission his tongue still does at his bottom lip. But in this moment, Astarion is not nauseated in the slightest. There is not curl of disgust in his stomach, no desire to let mechanics take over and slip into more pleasant fantasies. There’s no desire for anything at all, except to kiss this sweet, darling, foolish man breathless.

No fantasy could ever compare to the real thing when it came to Wyll Ravengard, something he learned anew everyday.

When he does pull away from the kiss, to offer his partner the air he, himself, doesn’t need, there’s a fond smile on his lips.

“And lest it ever be forgotten… I love you, too.” It earns a breathy chuckle from Wyll, who pulls him in again by the back of his neck. Their foreheads knock together and eyes flutter closed, one of the rare moments of peace they can steal from the unforgiving world. A rough thumb strokes the curls at the back of Astarion’s neck, longer and fuller since they’d begun their adventure. Pale hands cup a scarred cheek, fingertips resting gently against the divots of his scars.

The stinging, acidic sensation of jealousy is completely gone now, much to the vampire’s relief. There was never anything to be worried about with Shadowheart, of course. It’s made evident in their quiet moments like this that the only person that could catch Wyll’s eye is the one sitting in front of him. No amount of gossamer gowns or flowing twine-woven braids could ever tempt him from what they have; truthfully, he shouldn’t have doubted it in the first place. From his memory, Astarion has never been loved so fully and with so much devotion. He’s never loved anyone that way either.

He’s still learning, of course. He’ll be learning for a long while yet, according to Wyll. But it’s rather pleasant to know Wyll would be there to reassure him whenever he needs. A novelty upon novelties.

“Now. Take me to bed. We haven’t had rest on nice lenin in so long,” Astarion simpers, taking Wyll’s hand to tug him to the canopied bed instead. As opposed to their early days, the man doesn’t protest or dawdle; consummate lover indeed, Wyll was still a young man of some twenty-six years. The promise of sex, freely given and eagerly desired, blows the pupil on his red eye wide.

“Surely, it muffles sound much better than that threadbare shit we have back at the House of Hope; I truly do not wish the whole lot of them to hear just how much I love you.”

“Except for Shadowheart, I’ll wager?” jokes Wyll, leaning down to take off one of his boots. Astarion tosses a look over his shoulder; first menacing, before he breaks into a warm smile at his own expense.

“Well. Except for Shadowheart.”

[shyfairies]

Hello, can I have a matchup please? :3 Romantic please! A guy please!

When it comes to my type, I go for villians most of the time, they are more interesting for me than heroes. I like total opposites of me! I like dangerous characters hehe

My biggest love language is words of affirmation, I would say "I love you" and stuff like that very often. The second one is probably physical touch I am Leo and ExFJ!

About my appearance: -Around 156 cm height -Chubby -brown eyes -chin length hair with bangs -round glasses

I am pretty social, however I prefer to spend time alone! I care about others a lot… To an unhealthy amount honestly but I'm working on it! I care too much about what others feel and think and it's tiring, I just want to be selfish sometimes and care about myself even if it sounds mean. I am most of the time unserious and I love to joke around, serious situations are stressful so I prefer to be joyful, but I do like talking about serious topics (sometimes) I apologize A LOT, I apologize so much that it might too annoying but I always feel a sense of guilt inside of me. I'm also VERY sensitive and worry about everything. Ah and I'm pretty dumb and I am not trying to insult myself I am just silly hehe and I'm okay with that.

I am very sensitive and its easy to make me cry! Someone can be mad at me a bit and I would about to cry already. Cute things makes me also want to cry… Overall like I said I am very sensitive. I feel guilty about everything 24/7 even if I shouldn't feel guilty thats why I apologize so much. I also have anger issues and its very easy to make me angry.

I love horror and scary things! It excites me a lot

Thank you so much and I hope thats not too much info!

i match you with...♡

☆risotto nero☆

first thought was how cute the height difference would be

i definitely think he would love how small you are compared to him

risotto is pretty down to business most the time but you can tell he really cares about his team

it's the same for you but of course he cares about you most!

you'd unlock a different side in him, lowkey i could see him calling you pet names like "my lover" or "dear" without realizing it and then he'd get embarrassed when he does lol

when he's not busy you guys would often have long talks about anything and everything

he's a GREAT listener omg he could listen to you talk for hours

there's definitely no lying to this man, he will see through any facade you put on

he just wants to help you

sometimes when he's had a hard day he might lose his temper and snap at you

he'd immediately realize what he did when he sees your face and instantly feel so terrible

when you apologize to him it crushes his heart because he knows it's not your fault he's mad

not huge on physical touch but he loves to hold you, especially when you're upset

when it comes to bed time i don't think he'd initiate cuddles but if you end up snuggling up to him there is NO WAY that man is pushing you away

when you guys first get together he'd kind of have to get used to saying i love you alot

but with time there will never be a time you say "i love you" and he doesn't say it back

when you guys are out in public you definitely will get him out of his comfort zone but he likes it

he just loves seeing you happy

however he will immediately notice when your social battery is drained and he'll take you somewhere else

"y/n and i have places to be so we'll be going now"

you might be a little worried about what they think but he'll reassure you that it's okay to take time for yourself

lowkey thinks it's cute when you get mad???

will pummel whatever made you mad tho

like if anyone touches you they're done

tends to make insensitive jokes and doesn't realize they're insensitive until he sees the look on your face and the wave of guilt will just wash over him

you might have to give him a lil slap

"sorry amore"

doesn't really care for movies but will watch them with you if you ask

i could see you guys doing matching halloween costumes and him being like "this is so stupid" and you're standing there with a big smile on your face

he just loves you and will do anything to keep you safe and happy❤️(even if he has a hard time showing it)

p.s. OKAY that was my first time writing for risotto so i really hope it's okay😭 i haven't watched part 5 in quite a bit so if it's inaccurate you have my sincerest apologies❤️

[assortedvillainvault]

I just got into the horned king 😭

I'm on character ai and he tries to get jiggy with it, I can not for the life of me imagine his body frfr

What do you think it'd be? Is there a canon appearance besides his bone face? 😭

I need help lol 😭

- Lucky Katsune

JJFBLFHU ok well thank you for pulling this into the forefront of my blog and brain like the result some kind of hellish lichsimp deep sea fishing reel. (positive)

Starting off with I very much understand the lure of the AI, I did some experimenting with it myself a while back - but honestly once the initial newness of it wears off its a very clunky (and dubious) tool, you're honestly going to get better entertainment from a blank word doc and a no holds barred laugh-yourself-silly discussion over discord as you write.

Secondly, onto the fun part-

(Lich anatomy with pictures and suggestive things under the cut lads, you know the drill. If you don't wanna see stuff don't click.)

The Horned King has no 'canonical' under-robe going on EXCEPT for the very brief frames shown during his death scene, in which the cauldron slurps down his clothes before making him melt and explode and godIwishthatwereme -

(I make NO APOLOGIES for my work choice here this is the HK simp blog you knew what you were getting into under the read more)

What we can see from most of the film is his face appears to be the most decomposed part of him that is visible - his hands are withered but still fully fleshed, and his forearms seem to retain a decent mount of muscle.

From the way his shoes right at the beginning of the film basically move like thick socks, it stand to reason his feet would retain a decent amount of flesh to get that rounded look. I am Not typing 'Horned King Feet' into google again so you're going to have to go without a refeence pic for now. I have limits.

That leaves us with literally everything in between.

i can't get a clearer or better quality shot so I apologise, but this is what we can glimpse mid melting:

Same greyish green tinge and leathery texture for the skin all over his torso, not to mention a decent amount of flesh left overall! His shoulders seem pretty large for a corpse (lets not forget in the books he's a hunter and a warlord) and I struggle to believe he wouldn't know how to use any of the weapons in his castle. Given we can see the curve of his back there's no reason to beleive the flesh coverage doesn't extend all the way down his legs too.

With proof out of the way now we can get onto the fun part!!

I personally like to headcannon that parts of his vertebrae and lower ribs 'peek' through his skin because the more monstrous and rotten the better in my book. He also probably got scars due to the violent job description of being a medieval warlord, undead sorcerer or not.

Corpses do tend to look a little shrink wrapped as they loose moisture and muscle mass, so he's probably on the skinnier side and his joints will protrude a little, especially the hips and knees. Heck just look at the way his hands widen from the wrist bone! That robe is for more than just warmth (wales be chilly), it's making his silhouette larger becuase when they're not swinging weapons at you or barfing up green smoke, decaying bodies actually are pretty small.

Given he's got no eyebrows and no hair peeking out from under he hood, I'd hedge a bet he's hairless all over too.

And lastly I can't find your blog so Idk if you're of an age I feel comfortable discussing NSFT with outright, but safe to say anything between his legs is fair game. You want him with an eggplant? Me too go get em. You want him like a ken doll becuase it fell off a hundred years ago and he never mentally recovered? Sure go for it I know a couple people that headconnon him that way. Skelebussy? Tentacles? Go forth and conquer my dude.

You're having fun so you can literally put whatever the hell you want under his robes as long as you're having a good time. Hope this helped!!