#but whatever HE’S 6’5

[seasalt-brine]

this one gets its own post 😎

the sonic is drawn by my good friend @leducktor, check their art out !! ^_^ (spoiler alert: it’s breathtaking,,)

[mvncesa]

anyone dating/close to sobieski is in luck because they get their own personal (heated) weighted blanket

[6kuna]

Dilf! Sukuna would be one of those guys that defend women in danger+ would also be so bad at rizzing girls up that he just sounds desperate and pathetic[endearing]

“You’re the new teacher? I didn’t know they hired young girls these days. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d be the reason my son is getting his abc’s” he says as he looks at you up and down savoring every curve and line of your

You gave the parent a benefit of the doubt and took whatever he said as a compliment all while returning his “compliment” with an awkward chuckle.

“Thank you…”

“Say…if you come by my house and give some private lessons for him I’m more than capable to pay you more than the school does” he says smirking hiding the perversed meaning behind his shit request.

It’s the first time some weird parent tries to pull this type of behaviour on you the whole interaction leaves you in shock as you smile awkwardly trying to find the right words to respond and the patience to not punch him in the face. Your heart beats rapidly with your fists turning clammy and white from anxiety of not knowing what or how to respond to the fool of a parent.

“MISS Y/N I MISSED YOUUUUU” a familiar pink haired kid comes running as he gives you a hug. Shocked was an understatement by you were more than grateful for Yuuji to intervene.

“you know me and your teacher were having a conversation don’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to interrupt adults” The random parent says giving Yuuji a fake smile.

“Yeah? I’m the parent.” Sukuna says curtly with the most unamused expression known to man.

The male turns around to take a look at whoever the parent of the funky insolent child only to be greeted by a 6’5 fully tatted male who looked like he was more than capable to break his bones with just a simple flick. It also didn’t help the fact that Sukuna’s aura(lol) was more than threatening enough on its own without having to say a single word.

“I guess kids these days don’t learn enough manners I’ll take my leave for now” the inferior male says gulping as he puts up a front before scrunching up his face as he walks away.

Sukuna glares daggers at the stupid fool making sure he leaves the vicinity.

A huge breath of relief was let out as you kneeled down onto Yuuji’s height thanking him and his scarily hot dad for saving you from whatever the situation was.

“You guys have no idea how thankful i am, Yuuji you and your dad literally saved me”

“WE KNOWWWW, Hiro’s dad is a bit creepy” Yuuji says happily as he brings out a couple of souvenirs from his summer trip with his family to you before running into the building excitedly leaving you and his dad alone.

“Did he ask you if you for private lessons?” Sukuna asks with a smug smile

“Yes- what how did you know?!”

“He’s a douche and a weirdo he says that to every new teacher even the volunteers. I hope you’re okay after that interaction” Sukuna scoffs annoyed at the male’s behaviour. Knowing that Sukuna at his prime would’ve beaten the hell out of the weirdo for making women uncomfortable.

“I’m fine honestly I wish I could return the favour i don’t even know what i would’ve done if you and Yuuji didn’t come by” you say in a appreciative tone

Sukuna upon hearing this immediately takes the opportunity to ask you on something that has been on the back of his mind from the moment he laid eyes on you.

“You can return the favour by coming by my place for dinner I’ll cook, I can even pick you up just let me know when you’re free” he says in the spur of the moment not noticing he sounds like a desperate, desperate man.

You were so shocked at Sukuna’s abrupt response to the point you could literally feel the heat rising onto your cheeks making you smile sheepishly before bursting out in laughter.

“I didn’t think you would ask me that, but im free anytime on Saturday is it fine with you?”

“Saturday? Perfect” he says grinning as he sees you walking away he came to his senses realising he forgot to ask for your number

“You didn’t give me your number” he says from afar

It was your turn to leave him into the flustering mess. You smirked looking back at the giant of a male waiting for your response.

“I have yours don’t worry i’ll text you later” you say playfully.

It was true you do have his number. You’ve saved it from the moment he sent Yuuji on the first day.

Sukuna was lucky enough he didn’t have whatever his dad had cause frankly Sukuna would’ve probably gone into cardiac arrest with that statement alone. With that it is settled Yuuji will be sent off to Toji’s house for a sleepover while his dad gets straight to business.

Edit:not proofread was done when im literally ten secons awya from asleep i appoliguse for shit writing

[transform4u]

In the heart of bustling Austin, Texas, where the twang of southern drawls blends with the eclectic rhythm of city life, there was Chad Dalton, a buff wannabe bodybuilder, and personal trainer. At twenty-eight, he stood tall at 6’5” with a physique sculpted by years of relentless training and the grit of his rural upbringing. A former college football star turned gym trainer, Chad's presence in the fitness world was as commanding as his massive 269-pound frame.

Raised in a tight-knit southern community, Chad had brought with him not just his imposing stature but also an accent that marked him as unmistakably Texan. He wore it proudly, knowing well how it charmed the ladies or at least he believed it did. His alpha male demeanor and penchant for straight talk. The fact was Chad was a fucking douchebag.

Days were regimented with protein shakes and weightlifting sessions, a routine instilled by his former coach who had driven him to victory against their fiercest rivals. Now, Chad found himself in the role training others in the gym where his own legend grew. But mostly he liked to belittled the gay men in gym for their weak bodies. His impressive gains and bulging biceps made him a sight to behold, drawing admiration and envy alike from those around him.

And now here he was training people in this fancy gym instead of playing ball for some big-time team like everyone expected him to do after graduation. But screw them! Chad knew what was best for himself—and that meant staying single and focusing solely on improving himself physically so that no woman could resist his charm (or at least not for long).

Chad harbored views that were far from politically correct. His online rants against what he called "PC culture" and his dismissive remarks about "SJW chicks" were a stark contrast to the charismatic trainer who effortlessly charmed women at the gym.

One fateful evening, Chad found himself at a gay bar. It wasn’t the men he sought there, but rather the women—easy targets, he thought, like shooting fish in a barrel.

As Chad leaned casually against the bar, his eyes scanning the room for his next conquest, he spotted Samantha. With her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that turned heads, she stood out even in the dimly lit bar. Determined to make an impression, Chad sauntered over with his characteristic confidence.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he drawled in his deep southern accent, flashing a grin that he knew had won over countless women before.

Samantha, however, gave him a skeptical look, her eyebrow raised as she sipped her cocktail. "Oh, hey," she replied coolly, clearly unimpressed. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

Chad chuckled, undeterred by her lukewarm reception. "Can't help it when I see a beautiful lady like yourself," he replied, leaning in a bit closer.

She sighed, her annoyance thinly veiled. "Look, Chad, right?" Samantha asked, crossing her arms. "I'm not really into the whole 'gym bro' thing. All my friends here," she gestured subtly to the crowd around them, "they're all gay. I'm not sure you're their type."

Chad blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Oh, come on now, I'm just having a good time," he protested, trying to charm his way back into her good graces. "I'm sure we can find some common ground."

Samantha smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "You know what, Chad? You seem like you could use another drink. Let me get you one," she said smoothly, turning to walk towards the bar.

Chad grinned broadly, thinking he was making progress. "Sure thing, sweetheart. I'll take whatever you're having," he called after her, watching as she ordered two drinks from the bartender.

Little did Chad know, Samantha was more than just a pretty face. As she whispered a quick incantation over one of the drinks, a sly smile played on her lips. And incantation that would turn Chad in the most stereotypical gay guy at the bar, at least what Chad would believe to be a stereotype. "By the power of three, by the might of me, transform this man into what he truly would hate to be. Make him gay as a rainbow flag flying high, with a love for glitter and all things shiny. Let his voice be like honeyed whispers in the night, his body lean and toned with just enough muscle tight. Give him confidence that knows no bounds, charm that turns heads around. May he become the stereotype he makes fun of so much, fill him with gay lust."

She slid both drinks across the bar towards Chad, who eagerly picked up the one she had touched.

"Here you go," Samantha said sweetly, handing him the glass.

Chad lifted the drink to his lips, taking a long sip and smacking his lips appreciatively. "Thanks, Samantha. So, tell me more about yourself," he prompted, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

But as the last drop of the enchanted drink slid down his throat, Chad began to feel a strange sensation. His muscles seemed to relax, and a warmth spread through his body. Confused, he looked around the bar, suddenly aware of the vibrant energy and the laughter of the patrons around him.

As Chad continued to sip his drink, unaware of Samantha's magical intervention, a strange sensation began to creep over him. At first, he felt a light-headedness, as if a fog had settled in his brain, making his thoughts feel like they were wrapped in cotton candy. Samantha watched with concealed amusement as Chad's voice started to rise in pitch, a puzzled look crossing his face.

"So, Samantha, I was saying," Chad began, his words coming out in a higher, more melodious tone than before, "what do you do for fun around here?"

Samantha nodded along, her smile widening as Chad's once towering presence seemed to shrink before her eyes. His shoulders relaxed, and his posture subtly changed, losing some of its imposing stature. Chad's height diminished gradually, inch by inch, until he stood at a more modest 5 foot 5, a far cry from his former 6 foot 5.

Chad blinked, feeling disoriented as he looked down at himself, noticing the sudden change in perspective. "Whoa," he muttered, his voice now distinctly softer and more delicate, was there a bit of a lisp even? "Something theels... different."

Samantha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she observed the transformation taking place. "Looks like that drink had a bit of a kick, huh?" she teased lightly, handing Chad a napkin as he nearly stumbled against the bar, feeling off balance in his suddenly smaller frame.

Chad glanced around nervously, suddenly aware of the curious glances from other patrons in the bar. "What... what's happening to me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of panic.

Samantha leaned in closer, her tone reassuring yet tinged with amusement. "Relax, Chad. It's just a little magic," she explained cryptically, watching as Chad's features softened, his muscles seeming to lose some of their bulk.

As the reality of his transformation settled in, Chad realized with growing alarm that he was not only physically shrinking but also beginning to adopt mannerisms that felt foreign to him. He clasped his hands together nervously, noticing the delicate shape of his fingers and the way his shoulders seemed to naturally curve inward.

"I... I feel different," Chad murmured, his voice now almost musical in its softness. "What did you do to me?"

Samantha chuckled again, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "Let's just say, you're about to see the world from a whole new perspective," she replied cryptically, gesturing for Chad to follow her as she led him towards the dance floor, where the rhythm of the music seemed to beckon him with a newfound allure.

As Chad tentatively took her hand and joined the dance, his movements were now graceful and fluid, a stark contrast to his former swaggering gait. Samantha watched with satisfaction, knowing that her playful spell had set in motion a transformation that would challenge Chad's perceptions of himself and those around him in ways he never expected.

As the music pulsed through the club, Chad's body moved with a new grace and ease that he had never experienced before. His movements were lithe and fluid, every step and sway feeling strangely natural yet unfamiliar. Gone were the bulky muscles honed from years of football practice and intense weightlifting sessions. Now, all he seemed to crave was the rhythmic beat of the dance floor.

With each passing moment, Chad felt lighter, as if a weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying was lifting from his shoulders. The transformation was subtle at first, imperceptible to anyone but himself and Samantha, who watched with quiet amusement from the sidelines.

Chad's once prominent biceps and pecs began to shrink, the defined contours softening into a leaner, more slender form. His legs, once thick with muscle, now became toned and sleek, perfect for the agile movements of dancing. Abs that were once chiseled began to flatten slightly, a faint hint of definition remaining as his body reshaped itself.

But the most astonishing change was happening to Chad's face. Lines that had etched themselves from years of determined focus and occasional scowls smoothed away, replaced by a youthful glow that seemed to emanate from within. His features softened, his jawline becoming less angular, and his eyes sparkled with a newfound warmth and openness.

As his body continued to transform, Chad felt a curious sensation—a sensation of time rewinding. Memories of grueling football practices and weightlifting routines began to fade, replaced by a simpler desire for movement and joy. He felt a lightness of being, as if shedding layers of his former self to reveal a truer essence beneath.

And as the minutes passed, Chad's age seemed to rewind as well. From 27... to 26... to 25... and down, down, down until he settled at 21, the age where life had seemed full of possibilities and freedom, unburdened by the expectations he had once carried.

Samantha watched with satisfaction as Chad, now transformed into a young man with a twinkish charm that suited him far better than his former alpha persona, grinned back at her with a newfound radiance. His once cold demeanor had melted away, replaced by a warmth and kindness that drew people to him effortlessly.

"Wow," Chad murmured, running a hand through his newly tousled hair, feeling the lightness of his transformed body. "I... I feel different. Younger. Free."

Samantha nodded, her eyes gleaming with amusement and pride. "You look great," she said simply, knowing that Chad's journey was far from over but that this night had marked a profound shift in his life.

And as Chad embraced his new self, dancing under the lights with a joy and abandon he had never known, he realized that sometimes, a little magic was all it took to uncover who you were truly meant to be.

As Chad danced under the pulsing lights of the club, a transformation deeper than his physical appearance was taking hold. The music seemed to seep into his soul, stirring emotions and memories that felt simultaneously foreign and strangely familiar. With each beat, the memories of his rigorous gym routines, football practices, and the once cherished protein shakes faded like distant echoes.

He couldn't recall the details of his workouts or the names of his former teammates. The competitive drive that had fueled his athletic pursuits now seemed distant and irrelevant. Instead, a newfound appreciation for artistic expression blossomed within him, sparked by the melodies that enveloped him on the dance floor.

Chad's conservative edge softened and dissolved under the influence of the music. Ideas and beliefs he had staunchly defended began to shift, replaced by a liberal openness to new experiences and perspectives. He found himself drawn to conversations about social justice, equality, and inclusivity—topics that had never held his interest before.

As the night wore on, Chad's interests continued to evolve. He discovered a deep love for musical theatre and showtunes, melodies that spoke to emotions he had never fully explored. Memories of his college years resurfaced, reminding him of the acting classes he had once taken, the stage he had once tread upon with dreams of performing.

"I used to love acting," Chad murmured to Samantha between songs, his voice soft and introspective. "I remember now... I wanted to be an actor."

Samantha smiled knowingly, her eyes reflecting pride in Chad's newfound self-discovery. "You've always had a flair for drama," she teased gently, watching as Chad's face lit up with a childlike enthusiasm.

"Yeah," Chad nodded, a spark of excitement igniting in his eyes. "I'm going to be totes hungover for classes."

As Chad continued to dance, the rhythm of the music intertwined with his shifting identity. Memories of his former self, Chad the alpha gym bro, seemed to dissolve like mist in the vibrant lights of the club. Instead, a new persona emerged—a carefree and effervescent spirit that Chad had never known before.

"Sammmyyy!" Chad exclaimed with a giggle, his voice tinged with a playful lilt as he twirled around Samantha, who watched with a mixture of amusement and awe. "You're, like, my fag hag now, right? I totes don't wanna ditch you, but like, I'm here to snag the cutest boys tonight. It's Pride, for gosh sakes!"

Samantha laughed, her eyes twinkling with affection for the transformed Chad, now Gabriel—or Gabby, as everyone called him. She nodded along as Gabby spoke in cute little TikTok lingo, his speech peppered with heart emojis and playful hashtags.

As the night progressed, Gabby's transformation continued. His once sturdy frame morphed into something more lithe and youthful, clad in tight booty shorts and a crop top that accentuated his newly slender physique. His hair, once meticulously styled, now tumbled into a tousled mess of blonde locks that framed his youthful face.

Gone was the crude and brash language of Chad, replaced by the sweet and endearing chatter of a cute and somewhat vapid himbo. Gabby flitted from group to group, flashing bright smiles and striking poses for selfies, his newfound charm drawing admirers like moths to a flame.

"OMG, you guys are so cute!" Gabby squealed, snapping a series of selfies with a group of fellow partygoers. "Let's get this on TikTok, like, ASAP!"

Samantha watched with pride as Gabby embraced his new identity with unabashed enthusiasm. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to embrace the freedom and joy of being his true self—a persona that shimmered with positivity and a zest for life.

As a rising TikTok star, Gabby had amassed a following drawn to his infectious energy and charming personality. His videos were a mix of dance challenges, lip-sync performances, and heartfelt messages about self-love and acceptance. With a knack for engaging storytelling and an unapologetic love for all things fabulous, Gabby's feed was a vibrant reflection of his newfound identity.

In addition to his social media success, Gabby was pursuing a degree in Theatre, where his natural talent for performance shone brightly. He could captivate an audience with his singing voice, whether it was belting out a Broadway ballad or charming patrons in a cozy bar with his favorite showtune.

Gabby woke up the next morning, his body still sore from the night before. Hungover as fuck. He glanced over at the muscular otter sleeping soundly beside him, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in their intertwined limbs and sweat-dampened skin.

As the first light of morning filtered through the curtains, Gabby stirred, slowly becoming aware of the warm, solid presence beside him. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to see a man lying next to him, the sheets barely covering his muscular, hairy chest. Gabby blinked, trying to piece together the events of the night before and struggling to recall the man's name.

Sensing Gabby's movement, the man beside him opened his eyes and smiled warmly. "Good morning. I'm Brad, by the way."

Gabby’s heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight of Brad. He had a rugged handsomeness that seemed almost sculpted—strong jawline, perfectly tousled dark hair, and a five o'clock shadow that gave him an effortlessly masculine appeal. His deep brown eyes were filled with an inviting warmth that made Gabby’s pulse quicken.

Brad’s body was a marvel to behold. His broad shoulders and expansive chest tapered down to a well-defined abdomen. Each muscle seemed to be meticulously chiseled, and his skin bore a healthy tan that spoke of time spent outdoors. The light dusting of hair on his chest added to his raw, primal allure.

Gabby couldn’t tear his eyes away from Brad’s pecs, which were impressive and inviting. His gaze lingered, tracing the lines of Brad’s muscles, and he felt a surge of desire. Brad noticed Gabby’s stare and grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He gave Gabby a slow, deliberate wink and began to flex, his muscles rippling under his skin.

Without warning, Brad pulled Gabby close, their bodies pressing together, and captured Gabby’s lips in a passionate kiss. The intensity of the kiss made Gabby’s head spin, and he melted into Brad’s embrace, his hands roaming over the hard planes of Brad’s back. Brad’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding him firmly yet tenderly.

Gabby’s mind raced, filled with the overwhelming attraction he felt for Brad. Every touch, every movement only heightened his desire. Brad’s kisses trailed from Gabby’s lips to his neck, making him shiver with anticipation.

"I can’t wait to go again," Brad murmured against Gabby’s skin, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent shivers down Gabby’s spine.

Gabby could hardly breathe, his heart pounding in his chest. The morning sun bathed them in a soft glow, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

Gabby couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as he gazed upon Brad's muscular form. He was everything Gabby had ever fantasized about in a partner—strong, confident, and undeniably sexy.

"Wait," he said softly before leaning in for a passionate kiss that left Gabby reeling with desire. When they finally broke apart, Brad looked deep into Gabby's eyes and said simply: "I want you."

Without another word, they tumbled over and over in bed together. Hands roamed freely over each other's skin while lips locked hungrily together in fiery kisses that left both men breathless yet yearning for more. As Brad reached down to stroke his hard cock against Gabby's ass cheek teasingly through his briefs—a silent invitation accepted without hesitation—Gabby felt himself melting into pure bliss under this newfound lover's touch...

Gabby gasped as Brad's fingers traced a path down his spine, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. He couldn't help but moan softly in response to the sensation, arching his back slightly to give Brad better access.

Brad chuckled softly against Gabby's neck before leaning in for another passionate kiss that left both men breathless yet yearning for more. As their tongues danced together teasingly within the confines of their mouths, Gabby felt himself growing increasingly horny and horny—a feeling only heightened when Brad finally pulled away with a wicked grin on his face.

"Ready?" he asked playfully before reaching over to grab a condom from the bedside table without waiting for an answer; clearly implying that he was going to take what he wanted regardless if Gabby was prepared or not…

Gabby nodded eagerly, his heart racing with anticipation as Brad rolled the condom onto his already-hard cock. Without further ado, he positioned himself behind Gabby and slowly pushed into him in one smooth motion.

Gabby let out a soft moan of pleasure at the sensation of being filled so completely by someone else for the first time; it was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once—a heady mix of emotions that left him reeling with desire for more. As Brad began to move within him slowly yet deliberately, Gabby couldn't help but wrap his arms around Brad's shoulders tightly while arching his back slightly off the bed in response to each thrust; their bodies becoming one fluid motion as they lost themselves entirely within this moment together…

Their passionate lovemaking continued well into the afternoon, fueled by an undeniable chemistry that seemed to ignite between them from the very beginning. As Brad's movements grew more urgent and primal with each passing minute, Gabby found himself matching his rhythm perfectly—lost in a haze of pleasure as he surrendered completely to this newfound connection between them.

Finally, after what felt like hours but could only have been minutes in reality, Brad let out a loud cry before collapsing onto Gabby's sweat-dampened skin. For his part, Gabby couldn't help realize he was now nothing but a horny, slutty twink and he loved it. Time to make a Grindr profile.

[princessbrunette]

How did midsummer go with pogue!rafe and kook!reader? Did he fight jj because he tried to talk to her? What was her parents reaction? Did she let him put it in her butt?

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he was a little bashful to be honest. i mean he’s a huge guy — may i reiterate pogue!rafe specifically stands at a whopping 6’5 so there’s no way for him to effectively just blend in to the corner. he attracts eyes anywhere he goes.

he cleans up nice but he’ll roll his eyes if you say anything, turning up in his rented suit to drive you to the country club where midsummer was taking place. he swings the door open for you, and when you hop out you’re instantly on him— fixing his collar and his tie, any excuse to press yourself up on him, hands roaming.

“quit it alright, not even inside yet and you’re touching all on me” he shrugs you off, walking ahead. he’s agitated and a little more touchy than usual but it makes you smile. your rafey was nervous. he sighs as he walks, knowing you’re picking up on his mood. whatever — he’d do it for the promised anal sex.

he loosens up a tiny bit after a drink is placed in his hand. he’s a little surprised, the man in the suit at the door didn’t look at him funny or like he wasn’t supposed to be there. he even called him sir.

you hang off his arm, swanning around chatting and socialising as he stands in disinterest like a stony-faced accessory. you’re grinning ear to ear after a glass and a half of wine because his hand is on your lower back and sometimes, perhaps without even realising he rubs big warm circles on it. you just wanted him all to yourself.

“damn, who let this dude in?” jj’s jokey voice rings out and rafes all tense again, glaring at the fellow pogue dashing about collecting empty glasses on his tray.

“kind of unprofessional to be harassing guests on the job— alright, matter of fact where’s your boss maybe i uh, maybe i should let them know—” rafe is immediately in his face, tongue in cheek, looking down at the blonde like he was ready to throw hands so of course you’re slotting yourself between and urging him away. you couldn’t have that kind of tomfoolery tonight.

the second wave of tension came when your parents had finally stepped away from their social circles for a moment to revel in the shock of you bringing the handyman as your date. perhaps you didn’t really think it through, maybe they’d put two and two together and they’d certainly stop inviting him round to fix things which was annoying, as it was the few times you actually got to see him.

your father asks you to come on a little ‘walk’ with him, in which you reluctantly leave rafe’s side for a moment — just praying he behaves himself and jj stays out of his way. the thought of you returning to scrambling bodies on the floor and smashed plates and glasses had your body tensing.

the two of you stroll through the grounds, admiring all the fairy lights and dancing tipsy country club members paired with small talk before he finally breaches what he really wants to ask — being “why him, sweetheart? why rafe cameron our handyman? there are plenty of nice, respectable young men who come from a more… well, a background that just reflects you, a little more honey. what do you even have in common with this guy?”

“you don’t understand, dad. i like him, he’s different and the guys round here are weird and — and stuck up! you know i don’t like that dad, i told you!” you feel yourself regress, feeling like a scolded child again as you attempt to put your foot down, pushing through with your complaints even when you see your parent shaking his head in disapproval.

“i am just trying to protect you — rafe is a huge guy, to put it gently i don’t want my little girl getting hurt! you know how pogues are they’re… they’re undignified! what if he hurts you, huh? you wouldn’t be able to fight him off!”

“he’s not going to hurt me and i’m not a little girl. i’m an adult, and i can make my own choices.”

you don’t give him a chance to respond, already storming back down the golf hill the two of you stood on and back towards rafe — looking a little out of place yet somewhat slightly relaxed. his brows jump into a frown, blinking in confusion when he see’s your state — the most wound up he’s ever seen you.

“hey— wh— what happened out there?” he emphasises, and when you don’t respond, just grabbing his arm and dragging him to the bar his mouth turns down, shaking his head with a little shrug at being ignored. “not gonna tell me? alright.” he brushes off, irritated by your lack of communication.

he watches you order another glass of wine, before downing it — the pogue grimacing a little as he watches it trickle down the side of your mouth.

“alright— okay, jesus kid.” he gently bats the glass away and wipes your chin with the back of his wrist, still shaking his head. “can you talk to me?”

“i don’t wanna be with a kook boy. they’re all evil and stuck up and i just don’t like them. i’m a grown up and — and i can make my own decisions and my dad doesn’t have that kind of power over me okay only — only you— you can tell me—” you’re rambling, a little drunk and incoherent as rafe squints at you, bent a little to be able to see you better.

“breathe, alright… m’taking you home. this shit’s not good for you.” the cameron boy wraps an arm around your waist, all but manhandling you in a public- appropriate way toward the exit and piling you into the passenger seat of his car.

the car ride home is quiet aside from a few little sniffles from you, and he doesn’t really know what to say — so he doesn’t say anything. he had a funny way of showing he cares, and is more of an acts of service kinda guy anyway.

you’re still all loose and tipsy when he gets you back to your empty home, still marvelled by how fancy and large it is in comparison to his own. one moment he’s holding a glass of water to your mouth saying “drink.”, wiping you up when it spills down you once more — and then next minute he’s sheepdogging you into your bedroom, glancing around. “now get your little pyjamas or whatever. you’re goin’ t’bed to sleep this off. you’ll be fine.” he drawls, looking round to help you.

upon looking back at you, you’ve already managed to zip off your dress — your mood suddenly a lot more lifted as you bite back your drunken giggles.

“but rafey, i haven’t delivered my promise?” you’re all fluttery lashes and pouts as you touch his chest, the man before you sighing like it was the first time he’d breathed all day. “wan’ed you to put it in my ass all night.” you groan, all high pitched and needy — and fuck does he wanna give in. fuck does he deserve it — should pin you down and take what he wants right now, making you squeal and cry into your sheets, begging for some kind of stimulation in your cunt only to be rewarded with his big hot load in your ass before he tails out of that place before your parents return.

but it wasn’t right. since when did he care about doing what was right?

“nah kid, we’ll revisit that soon alright you’re — you are not in the right state… okay— so just… get into bed. come on.” his voice is a little softer in defeat at his own overwhelming affections and he guides you to the bed, shucking off his blazer and throwing it to the side as he pulls the blankets over you.

“can you stay?” you pout, sleepy as soon as your head hits the pillow.

“…no.” he scratches his cheek, the other large hand resting on your back and rocking you gently like a baby, not sure of how this all works.

you didn’t expect him to say yes, but it still disappoints you. however once your eyes are closed, they don’t open again — and soon you’re waking up in the morning to a hangover and no rafe.

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[dipperscavern]

STARK SIZE KINK STARK SIZE KINK STARK SIZE KINK!

No one in the world could convince me that the stark bloodline is not half giant or something. Idk how they thought giants didn’t exist for years when the stark men were RIGHT THERE! On how tall cregan is… Do not tell me he isn’t 6’5-6’7 because george r.r. martin whispered it into my ear last night. He loooooooooves how tall he is compared to you, he relishes in just towering over you and watching your eyes get all big as you look up. He doesn’t even mean to be freaky wit it… he just thinks you are the sweetest little thing he has ever seen. Whenever he is with you out in public he likes to keep you nice and flush to his side so that if anything may happen, or if you are to fall victim to the northern cold, he may hold you close to protect you from whatever may befall you. He scares off everyone around you like a big scary bodyguard. He likes being close to you in general, loves the feeling of having your relatively small figure in contrast to his much larger one. When he beds you it is much worse really. Expect that he will crowd your personal space and leave you no air to breathe. Face all up in the crook of your neck, his big arms all-encompassing as he makes you feel aaaallllllllllllllll of him.

There are two walls in the north, The Wall™️ and cregans big backed body okay You Have To Just Think About It… He has been hardened by the trials of war and the duties that come along with being warden of the north. Nothing comes easy to anyone living that far up the hemisphere. That being said, he is muscular. Incredibly ripped and skilled with his sword (🤫). Just a big brute of a man, who is freakishly tall, and is casually dressed in pelts that are inches thick to shield him from the northern wind. If you squint he’s built like a roblox character… And do not think i forgot that time you mentioned how he would assert his dominance by backing you into a wall and just reminding you of who he is by just standing there and letting you soak it all in (🤫). You might think of him of your kind and lovely doting husband, but at the end of the day he is Lord Cregan Stark and you will know it before the end. The end being when he realizes you like the size difference a little too much and has you on your back against your soft blankets in no time with his [REDACTED] at the cusp of pushing into you (he likes to press down on your stomach once its fully inside btw) (how else do you think he got all those fuckass kids).

p.s. his dick is the ‘Ice’ of dicks :///

lots to think about… lots to ponder… (same anon as the possessive starks ask <3)

U CALLING CREGAN BIG BACKED LMFAOO. and him pressing down on your stomach…. oh my god. his dick being the ive of dicks is so… gods. he has to prep you good to be able to take him. i literally… don’t even have anything else to add this is all perfect. i can only push the message further.

[i gesture to this ask] FEAST YOUR EYEs

(cregan size kink drabbles coming to your screen soon)

[emoboykisser]

i would love to be a rich older man’s boyfriend. the idea of it is just soooooo hot! Let’s name him Amos!

he’s the CEO of some big tech company that’s dominating the industry with every decision he makes, leading him and his investors into an era of huge success and growth.

amos is 35-40 years old, tall, about 6’5 and ruggedly handsome with nicely styled hair, stubble with a small hint of a mustache growing, lean muscle, and some body hair that makes him even more appealing. His personality is cold, calculating, dominant and observant. He’s intimidating, making those who cross him immediately regret it because it will most definitely not end well for them or anyone involved with them. But with the ones he loves, he’s a love bug!

then comes you—his younger boyfriend. getting out of the elevator and walking into his office with a big smile on your face as he gestures for you to sit on his lap.

“How’s my pretty boy?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you straddle his lap and blush at the pet name he gave you. He wraps his arms around your waist as you reply. He leans in, asking if you would like to go on a little get away with him; of course you say yes!

it’s been two days in paradise with you and Amos; swimming in the bluest waters, eating at the most delicious restaurants, relaxing by the pool, spa treatments, zip-lining through the island, and just whatever else the two of you can think of! it’s a much needed vacation for the both of you.

The two of you, swimming in the pool of Amos’ luxury villa. The setting sun reflected on the water as you two play around; splashing each other, seeing who can swim from one side to the pool to the other, seeing who can hold their breath the longest, and other pool games.

Seeing the water fall down Amos’ muscular and well built chest catches your attention. The way it hypnotizes you into staring longer than necessary at his body, but he doesn’t mind; he’s been watching you too. He catches you staring and with a cocky smirk, he lifts your chin up with his finger to meet his gaze. desire floods his eyes as he asks if you’d like to do something else, and you eagerly nod, knowing what he means; he takes your hand and leads you inside the villa.

skin slapping against skin fills the room as Amos’ fat and lengthy cock thrusts into your tight hole. He has you pressed up against him; your back pressed against his chest with his hand around your throat so you can look at him as he pounds into you and so he can see how good he’s making you feel; it’s definitely an ego boost for him.

his other hand wrapped around your hard-as-a-rock cock, stroking it to matchup with his thrusts. “Such a good boy,” he praises, “takin’ me so well” he grunts. all you can do is moan as he keeps praising you, until you finally release your load all over the bed. he follows soon after with a loud roar that reverberates through the room. his cum fills your hole, some of it dripping into the bed as he gently releases you and begins to kiss your lips.

[sapchat]

A Fucking Rat

Simon Riley x GN Reader

For GPD's May CoD writing challenge Prompt 42

Simon Riley Pet sits for Reader      Prompt #42

I have head cannons for each of them on what type of pet I think their SO would have. Simon’s significant other would have a ferret. I’m sorry but he screams ferret boyfriend.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN Reader     Fluff <3         Words: 1.4k

Warnings: Might be a bit of ooc Simon. Just some cussing, gender-neutral terms used. Ferret blasphemy

It started as a simple question. One Simon figured he’d be able to complete. “Can you watch Darrel for me?” Easy. That’s all that was requested of him by his… relationship? He thinks you’re dating, granted he also doesn’t want to ask 6 months into whatever it is y’all are. You stated you weren't much for 'labels'.

The issue is, he just assumed that Darrel is a cat. Or a dog. He didn’t expect you to own a fucking ferret. So, tell him why he is now trying to find where it’s gone, as he’s on the phone telling you it's doing great! Ferret is 100% okay and definitely not lost in your apartment.

“But you found the food for him, right?” You had asked him over the phone, Simon had you on speaker on the counter beside the cage.

“Yeah, found that pretty quickly, right where you said it’d be. How’s the trip going?” He’s moving the couch cushions around trying to figure out where the little shits ran off to. Opened the cage door just to turn around and put the food in and out came the wiggly little bastard.

“It’s going okay, wish I was home though, I hate being away whilst you’re back from deployment. Also, why do you sound so far away? What’re you doing?” Shit. You heard him.

“I just misplaced the remote. Think it fell in between the cushions. Nothing happening.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees it. Darrel. Shooting across the living room. So, Simon follows as quietly as he can, being 6’5. And yet he misses him by seconds.

“Check behind the cushions, usually with you they don’t fall between them, but slip behind you towards the back.” You remind him, as this has been an occurrence before.

“Where the fuck…” It’s muttered, Simon hopes you can’t hear him trying to find your beloved pet.

“What’s that noise? You got a cold?” Simon hears you ask, which makes him turn to see Darrel on the phone. So, Simon does the only thing he can think of and grabs the blanket to toss it over everything.

Covering the counter, phone, and ferret all in one swoop. The issue? Darrel squeals. Which tips you off.

“Simon! What’s happening?” You panic, hear the squealing and the scuffle, but then you hear something else.

“Got you, you fuck.” It’s Simon finally getting him cornered and caught.

“Simon, what the hell is happening?” You hear him cuss, then the noises of Darrel making little noises you refer to as ‘happy dook’. And as you get annoyed at the fact you don’t get a response, you tap the ‘Facetime’ button on the screen. Waiting for Simon to accept the call the first thing you see when he does, is Darrel, mouth open with Simon holding his scruff.

“Little slimy bastard is what he is,” Simon informs holding the little terror.

He hears and sees you laughing at his statement, “He slipped past you didn’t he?”

“Why do you have to own a rat of all things? Why not a cat, or shit a parrot?” It’s said in a grumble, as he fixes his hold on the ferret, massive hands moving to hold under his legs. Then sticking him back in his cage to eat.

“When I got the apartment the landlord's rules were ‘pet either had to be in a cage or tank’. So, I got a ferret. Birds are… I don’t know I think they’re messy.” You inform, doing a little finger wave to the pet.

“So, you got a rat. Not a fish?”

“Simon, leave your adoptive son alone,” You tell him, then move your attention back to Simon. “How’d he slip past you Mr. SAS Lieutenant?”

“He slipped past as I was grabbing his food. Ran around the room, he’s coming on next deployment with how he gets in and out of places though.”

A laugh sounds out, and Simon can see your nose crinkled as you do, “Don’t send our son to war. He’d never make it past basic.”

Simon lets out a small chuckle, “Just give him to Johnny to deal with. He’ll get ‘em through.”

“Johnny would lose him instantly. Would probably try strapping a knife to him and send him through the halls.” You laugh as you say the second part, and Simon knows you’re picturing the Scot strapping a knife to the little weasel. “God Price would probably put rat traps out.”

There’s a gruff laugh in response, “Wouldn’t allow it.”

You just hum in response, “Well, just remember you’re free to stay there whilst I’m gone. Don’t care if you do or don’t. Just let Darrel run around for a few hours, he’ll make his way back to the cage when he’s done.”

“You let the rat run around unsupervised?”

“He’s not a rat. He’s a ferret. Weasel family. You should know that. Also, yes, I do, he’s usually free roaming whenever I’m home, but I won’t make ya do that.” You tell him, then add, “Oh watch your toes. He’ll bite ‘em if he can. OH, and your keys. Actually, just anything that might have a bit of a shine. If you notice anything is missing, just check that cubby under the TV. He’ll have stuff stashed there.”

“Great, so he’ll steal my keys, bite my feet. Anything else I should worry about?”  He questions.

“Nah, that’s just for if you decide to let him roam about. Are you up to date on shots?”

It’s stated bluntly as if you’re going to add something else, and it makes Simon turn in the direction of your face on the screen.

“This little rat has a disease?”

“Simon, he’s not a rat. Also, no I’m just fucking with ya. But if I come back from this trip and my child is dead, I’m coming for your kneecaps, Simon Riley. Nothing will hide you from me.” It’s blunt, meant to be a threat, but coming over Facetime, doesn’t make it too scary. Simon’s had worst threats made against him.

“He’ll be alive when you get back,” Simon grunted out, reassuring you of the fact. “Any plans for tomorrow?” He asked, changing the subject from the rat. Weasel.

“Not really, did that hike today, I’ll send some photos from it. Want any souvenirs?” Simon wants to roll his eyes at that but knows that some people do enjoy traveling. His being in the military makes it lackluster.

“Skyros is known for what again? Crafting?”

“Close, known for ceramics, woodcarving, embroidery. The classics,” You inform.

Simon seems to hum in thought, “Grab me something you think I’ll use. Or think I need.” He tells, knowing you’d find him something you think ‘screams Simon.’

“Will do, got Price a mug, which seems like I’m trying to find a gift for my father but anyway, Johnny a Scottish flag burned into some wood. Gaz took longer but found him this book of poems, some of which are claimed to be originals but there were like 5 other copies of the same book. Buy the book you get an original coin from like 400 BC, which is real. Can add it to his coin collections he’s found through your guys' travels.”

Simon knows then that is one of his favorite things about you. How you’ve accepted the team as a family, don’t see them as anything else. Buy them little trinkets when things remind you of them all.

“They’ll all enjoy them. But you know you don’t have to buy them anything. They’ll say the same.”

“I know they will. But they’re the boys.” You smile, then say, “If you won’t be nice to them then I gotta.” It’s said with a laugh. The tease coming through the phone.

Simon huffs a laugh, “Because I’m so rude. Should watch out, might replace me with you.”

“Only if little Darrel comes with.” He watches your smile through the phone screen, wishing you were here instead on some Greek island. The mention of the pet makes him look back at the cage across the room seeing the ferret’s beady little eyes staring at him.

Simon sighs, shaking his head and just states, “A fucking rat for a pet.”

“He’s not a rat!”

Gaz's s/o would have a horse. Seems like the type of guy who would love coming out and seeing you ride your horse. Soap's s/o has a cat, a little wriggly bastard who's always getting into shit. Like Soap. Price's s/o would have a dog. I picture a little (ethically bred where it can fucking breath, like og. or maybe adopted) French bulldog. Price would be the type of guy who would be like 'I'm not being seen with this thing.' cut to 3 weeks later he's dressing it in bows. And of course, Simon with his little weasel child.

@glitterypirateduck

[retrospacejelly]

A Western Romance

Pairing: Ex-outlaw!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lost and in need of a place to stay, the ex-outlaw needs a place to sleep. Good thing he wandered into your yard.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Guns, Mentions of the devil’s tango, typical cowboy things, language

Part: 1/?

Part: 1, 2, 2 1/2, 3

Not proofread

A/N: Personally, there should be more Western Miguel content. I love Cowboys! I had this idea brewing for a while, and character ai helped push the plot! (Thank you Monstera for letting me expand on the plot!)

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

Crickets chirped as the sun set over the horizon. Despite the warm weather of July, a nice breeze blew through the small town of Nueva Falls. On the outskirts of the tiny town, a small house sat just over the hills, hidden from society.

Y/N hummed a tune as she took her now-dry linens off the worn line. A weaved basket sat at her boot-covered feet, holding sheets, blankets, and whatever else was washed that morning. 

As she reached for the last sheet, a twig snapped in front of her. Pausing both her movements and her humming, she listened for any other noises. It could always be a rodent or a coyote. She mentally groaned. Ever since one of the panels to the fence around the chicken coop broke, coyotes had been raiding (or at least attempting to raid) the coop. 

She brandished her pistol that had sat snug between her hip and skirt, slowly moving from behind the sheet. Best not to provoke it. For now. 

Y/N squints at the now darkened horizon, not noticing an immediate threat. Before she could turn around, a hand slipped around her middle and another over her mouth.

“Don’t make a sound, Dama.”

The voice grunts out. His breathing is uneven, and despite his strength, sounds weak. Y/N nods frantically, pistol still clutched tightly in her hand. He slowly releases her, turning her around to face him. 

Now getting a better view of the man, Y/N’s jaw almost dropped. Why he had to be over 6’5! His tan skin shined with what little moonlight was above, his piercing gaze watching her every move. She did the same. 

Lowering her gaze, she noticed his disheveled state. His clothes were wrinkled and darkened from dust and grime, his peppered hair messy and sticking to the nape of his neck. He didn’t seem to have a weapon of any kind, not that he’d need one with his burly build.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, trying to scan for any noticeable injuries. Seemingly taken aback by her question, there’s a beat of silence before he lets out a deep chuckle. Lord.

“Are people in this town always this kind and trustin’ of strangers?” He replies, his eyes falling onto her gun. “Well, ‘Cept maybe you.”. 

Y/N can’t help but smirk, a surge of confidence taking over. “Well, I’m not like most people in this town. That shoulda’ been made obvious to ya’ when you wandered on my property. Now. Are you hurt? And what are you doin’ on my property?” She prods again.

He shakes his head. “No, no. I ain’t hurt. Just tired and hungry. What’s a lil’ thing like you doin’ out here by lonesome anyhow? Don’t you know wild animals roam ‘round at night?”

She huffs, annoyed. “You don’t do too well answerin’ questions, now do ya? Why. Are. You. On. My. Property?” 

He throws his hands up in mock defense, shrugging off her comment. “I’ve been wanderin’ through the desert for the past two days after my horse broke its leg. Long story short, I was robbed by bandits while I was camped out, and all I have on me are the clothes on my back, Senora.” He moves closer, boldly reaching up to caress her cheek,

“Please, I just need a place to stay and a meal to eat. Your abode was the first inklin’ of settlement I’ve seen these past two days.” He looks into her eyes, his voice now a whisper. “Please.”

She hums skeptically, taking a step back. “Why not stay at an inn in town? They got brothels to keep a horn dog such as yourself company.” Y/N snarks back, slipping her pistol back into her waistband.��

He chuckles again. “You suggestin’ I partake in those kinds of…sinful pleasures? Now that’s just hurtful, Princessa.”

“What unmarried man doesn’t?” Y/N snaps, crossing her arms. She taps her foot against the ground, waiting for another comeback. Once again he chuckles, shaking his head. Some conversation they were having. 

“And how would you know if I’m a married man or not, hun?” 

“Well, I don’t see no ring on your finger. And with the way you were touchin’ me earlier, what else am I to assume, hun?” 

He grins. “Who says I’m flirtin'? Maybe I’m just a friendly guy.” A beat of silence. “A bit too friendly, don’t you think?”. He shrugs again, “Is there such a thing as bein’ too friendly?” he inquires.

She nods, “‘Course there is.” He takes a step forward again, his posture relaxed. He takes a lock of hair into his hand, twirling it. “If I’m bein' too friendly, then tell me ta scram.”

Y/N smiles, “‘Corrdin’ to you I’m too kind.”. Noticing her playful jest, he smiles too. “Yeah, a real ray of sunshine you are.” He teases, dropping her lock of hair. “Mn, and you a ball o’ fire.” 

“You seem awfully friendly for a gal who brandished her gun towards me.” He says, leaning in ever so slightly. Y/N places a hand on her pistol. “Yeah, and this gal still has her gun. Don’t go tryin’ nothin’ now”.

He lowers his voice. “Trust me sweet thing. I’d never do nothin’ of the sort…less you want me to?”. She leans in, just an inch away from his face, only to swiftly pull away. “How many nights you plan on stayin’ cowboy?”.

His eyes widen at her trick, but he quickly regains his composure. “Just a night, Darlin.”

She nods. “Mn, alright. I won’t charge ya…money that is.” 

He smirks. “What are ya lookin’ for in exchange then…?”

“Help on my ranch.” Y/N shuffles past him and picks up her basket. She pulls the sheet from the line and plops it in the basket. “One of the panels that fence my chicken coop done broke on me, and I haven’t had time to fix it. Damn coyotes keep trying to snag a snack.” She huffs, setting the basket on her hip. “Sound like a deal?” 

He ponders over her offer, looking up at the moon. He looks back down at her. “You’re askin’ a total stranger to work on your ranch for a night?” 

She refrains from rolling her eyes. “I’m also lettin’ a total stranger into my house. I think rationality has flown out the window. Besides, you were the one to come onto my property askin’ for a bed and a meal.”

He rests his hands on his hips. “You’re an interestin’ one, I’ll give ya that. Can’t tell if you’re too trustin’ or jus’ know how to talk a man inta’ doin’ favors for ya’.”

She shrugs, “The motel’s open all night, you choose.”

He lets out a sigh, not wanting to go into the busy town. Surely someone would recognize him there. He’s surprised she hasn’t already. “Alright, Senora. Ya got yourself a deal. I’ll fix up yer fence if it means a roof over my head and a pretty lil’ thing to keep me company.”

Y/N chuckles, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “Alright, c’mon and follow me.” She says, walking towards her back porch. She hears his heavy footsteps trailing behind her.

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

[babiebom]

Sdv Age and Height Headcanons

A/N: hi! It’s officially my birthday(the 15th) and I am now 23 :((((( I didn’t know what to post because everything is in the works right now but I wanted to post something to celebrate in a way so here!! Only base game stardew characters so no ridgeside or expanded. I do count Rasmodius/Marlon/Gunther/Morris as base game even though they’re expanded upon in mods. If anyone has questions for me (personal or about my fics or whatever) feel free to request or ask!!

Tw: none other than a mention of death in Shane’s part.

Sdv Masterlist

Sebastian

We always have to start with the loml (it tries to autocorrect loml to mommy and lonely btw)

I think he’s about 23-26 I think he has a degree in IT but I’m not sure. He has to be able to have graduated or taken classes or something.

I think he’s 5’10 at the shortest and 6’2 maybe 6’2 1/2 at the tallest.

Idk just seems tall to me because he’s lowkey intimidating.

Sam

Him and Abigail are in the same age range. I think they were born in the same year.

This means he is about 22-25 and his birthday occurs right after summer break(maybe I should do birthday headcanons?)

I think he is a very tall boy(keep in mind that I am short af so what I mean by very tall depends)

So maybe he is 5’10 at the shortest like Seb and 6’3 at the tallest.

I think him and Seb can be interchangeable when it comes to height? Both of them however come behind Harvey and Elliott but not by a lot.

Shane

The shortest bachelor for sure

I think he is very short and stocky he gives me big strong dad energy like your dads not the tallest but man is strong af.

So maybe 5’5-5’8? I mean 5’8 isnt short at all really but keep in mind I’m saying this is the tallest he can be, and the height really does make some guys seem really short when in reality they arent( also my phone tried to add king every time I typed short so there’s that)

Among the older bachelors so about 31-35?

I feel like that’s enough time to go from playing football(sorry gridball) in high school, getting a scholarship to play in college, dropping out to take care of his goddaughter when his friends die and becoming depressed.

He just seems like a 30 something year old going through the trenches :(.

Harvey

I think the oldest out of the bachelors and bachelorettes. He has gone to med school and that is I think at least like 4 years then 8 years? Unless I’m wrong lmao

So I think he would be around 35-38

He’s an older man that has spent his life helping people it’s so cute

He is on the taller side. In my mind he gives gentle giant vibes.

So 6’0 at the shortest and maybe 6’5 at the tallest. I think he towers over people but his posture is so bad that no one notices.

Alex

I think he is between the ass trio and Maru so 21-24

I think he graduated high school only a couple years prior to year one because of how passionate he is about gridball and how he thinks it’ll happen I don’t think anyone older would be like “someday I’ll go pro” they’d be crushed already

I think he is 6’0 exactly. He gives off 6 feet vibes like I can see that if he had a tinder profile it would 100 percent say “I’m 6’0 btw”

Elliott

I think he’s 34 exactly.

He seems like during his 20s he worked in the family business, he did what was told of him because he didn’t really know how to be an adult.

Then when he hit 30 he decided that he didn’t want anything to do with the family business and decided to move to Pelican Town to follow his dreams of writing.

He had enough money saved up to move and cut contact with his parents after they threatened to disown him because of him choosing to chase his dreams.

I think he is up there with Harvey as I’ve already said. I think they could be the same height range and who is taller is interchangeable.

So 6’0-6’5 really. Gives off hunk on the cover of a romance novel vibes.

Penny

I think she’s around 24-26. And I do think she has a teaching license and an education degree so this would give her enough time to have graduated and come back to Pelican Town after like a year of teaching in the city.

She seems sort of mature but immature at the same time, like immature when it comes to romance and dating, and sort of life but also she has the vibes of an introvert that was forced to mature quickly so she is good at making decisions, but at the same time her emotions are out of whack.

I think she’s a petite girl she doesn’t look very tall at all.

So I think she’s 5’2-5’5 I think for women to me 5’5 that’s the cap on people seeming short to me for women.

Abigail

Luckily I didn’t have to think about this too hard because I already answered this in one of my very first posts

I think she is 5’4 to 5’8 (sorry I’m American so 162 to 172 cm?)

She’s the first one I’m doing I’m not converting everyone but it’s like 2.5 cm per inch and 30.5 per foot

Her age is around 22-25 in year 1 I think. I know I’m my original Abigail headcanon I said oldest is 24 but I think 25 is okay.

She is amongst the youngest in her grade level during school years.

Haley

I think she’s on the younger side, like the same age range as Alex. Especially because she gives the vibes if she just graduated and hasn’t grown out of her mean girl/insecure personality

So she’s about 21-24

I think she’s similar to Abigail where she gives off like petite girl energy but also tall girl energy. Like I feel like she was a cheerleader and people always said that she could model so maybe she’s on the taller side

So maybe 5’4-5’7

Idk what it is about women that are 5’7 are specifically beautiful to me, they seem super tall but not so tall that it makes me feel like they’re a giant, their arms and legs are long idkidk.

Emily

She’s the older sister of Haley, and I think she’s pretty close to Shane and Gus so I think she’s on the older side

I also think that she could be the oldest out of all the bachelorettes.

So maybe 29-35

She seems a lot more mature than Haley, as well as understanding and confident in her life and her choices

As well as she doesn’t seem insecure or as if she’s weird at all like I think younger people are.

I think her height range is very small compared to the others like

She’s 5’5-5’6

She gives off the vibes for that like not too short not too tall just average.

Maru

In my opinion Maru is the youngest out of the bachelorettes AND bachelors because I think everyone is around the same age and she’s the younger sister of Sebastian who I think is closer to everyone else’s ages so it makes her younger.

I think she’s about 19-21

Like yes she’s working as a nurse, but it’s a small town and she’s an actual genius, I don’t think they care that she’s young. Besides Harvey handles everything on his own she mostly does paperwork and assistant stuff.

Her height has to be around like 5’2-5’4 I think she is a very small girl despite Robin and Demetrius being a little on the taller side.

Leah

I think she might be the second oldest out of the bachelorettes

Like her backstory is her working in a dead end job, she was in a longtime relationship and could’ve gotten married had she not decided to leave

So she’s about 27-31 she’s not the same age as Emily, but she does hang out with Elliott so I think she’s a little older.

I think she’s about 5’6 she makes me feel as if she’s about average in heigh because of how artistic she is I feel like anyone smaller would be very disadvantaged when carving or doing anything and so would someone taller.

Pierre

I think he would be about 5’9-5’11

Like he doesn’t seem too tall but he does give me taller side energy

Would probably tell people he’s 6 feet bc he gives me the vibes of someone who would because he wants to seem like he’s perfect.

I think he’s like 45-48

He is for sure older than Caroline especially because I believe he is into the traditional gender roles which means younger wife and older husband.

Caroline

Caroline I think is a very average woman. And not by looks because I think she actually would be quite attractive like I feel like she would be vERY beautiful.

I mean in terms of her body, she isn’t too big or too small, she didn’t have too much fat or too little her body is just average.

So I think she would be 5’4-5’6

I also think all of the moms are in a similar age range so she would be 44-47

Honestly with the way they’re designed I would’ve said 30s but that would make no sense if their kids are in the marrying age/having kids range.

Jodi

I think she is on the shorter side, she gives me short thicc mom energy. Especially because Kent is a military man.

So maybe 5’2-5’5 bc I think Kent towers over her and so does Sam. The kids did not get her genes because I do think Vincent would be quite tall when he is an adult.

I also think she would be like 43-46 she has a kid that’s an adult and a kid that’s a child so I think this age range would be more plausible for her to have had one kid young and the other one at an older age.

Kent

Is large and in charge like BIG MAN

So I think he must be 6’2-6’5

Like towers over most people and intimidates them based on size alone.

Similar age as Jodi. I think they probably were in the same grade in high school so same age 43-46

Vincent

Right now like as of year 1 would probably be tiny

Like people think he’s going to turn out like Jodi but would actually turn out to be like Kent and Sam and be huge.

So maybe like 3’10?

Kinda small for his age but not like super small?

He is probably 6 or 7 years old

So CUTEEEEEE

Evelyn

Granny Evelyn is probably TINY

Like I think she is 4’9

She’s so cute and small and was probably taller when she was younger

Also old as HELL from how she looks

So maybe from 80-95

Because she as well as George have to older than everyone on the older side.

George

Was probably on the taller side before he was wheelchair bound.

Probably 5’11 exactly like not super tall but tall enough.

Him and Evelyn have such a big height gap and it’s ADORABLE.

I think maybe 2 or 3 years older than Evelyn

83-98 so super old lmao

Pam

I think the oldest out of the parents

So maybe 49-54

She hates the fact that she’s on the older side out of the parents, especially because she isn’t really close to the others as much as she would like to be. She feels out of place among them.

I think she’s about 5’6 I can see her being VERY beautiful when she was younger, and she probably still has a nice body and face, especially if she stops drinking.

Lewis

His ass is probably in his 60s but sees himself as younger

I think 60s isn’t really old at all, like it’s still enough time to do different things.

But his glory days are over

Probably 5’9 like average height.

Clint

I think he might be younger than Emily. His crush seems very immature to me. And it makes him a little less incel-y but idk.

So maybe 27-30?

He’s definitely old enough to know not to act a fool but like it makes sense at this age that he’s an asshole after being rejected for so long y’know.

I think he’s maybe 5’9? Not too short but not too tall. Definitely thinks being taller could’ve helped his situation.

Gunther

I cannot tell anything about this man at ALL

He’s very mysterious

I think he is literally 40-59

Could literally be anywhere in that

He’s probably 5’10 too since I think he’s able to see something on the shelves, and he can see over the counter.

Gus

He’s on the older side. Idk if he has kids or anything, but he gives dad vibes

So maybe 50-59 not too old but like middle aged.

Very sweet and that’s what gives me the father vibes.

Also he doesn’t seem like a gossip but knows a lot which gives me that age range.

I think he’s either 5’6 or 6’3 nothing else. I think 5’6 is more likely though.

Demetrius

I think he is a little younger than Robin. It’s lowkey what makes him and Sebastian to be so bad at getting along.

So maybe 40-42?

Old enough to be a dad but not really old enough I guess.

I think he is VERY tall. Especially since in game it looks like he has a little height over Robin.

So 6’3 at the shortest? 6’5 at the most?

Robin

43-46

I think she had Sebastian at 20? Maybe younger but I think 20 is a good age. She was young and barely out of teenagedom that her parents were probably upset.

I think she’s a little tall but not too tall like 5’7

Very beautiful and her legs are longer than her torso but not in a tall SpongeBob vibe y’know.

Marlon

I think he’s in his 50s? So 50-60

I think he is younger than Lewis and that’s also why they can’t really get along other than Marnie.

Probably 5’10

Like tall enough that when fighting monsters he has no disadvantage but not so tall that he can’t get anything done.

Linus

He is also mysterious.

He looks old but at the same time he lives in nature and his looks probably don’t match his age.

So anywhere from 50-70?

Some 70 year olds look young and can move around and I don’t doubt that he is agile due to him being a nature man.

Leo

On the taller side of kids.

So sort of like 4’5 or almost 5’0

I think Leo is older than Jas and Vincent

But not too much older that it’s weird.

So maybe 10?

Marnie

I think she is on the older side. I don’t think that she is too old, for sure younger than Lewis

I think she’s like 50-56?

Young enough that Lewis wants to sleep with her for sure

Also young enough that she still hopes by some miracle that she has a child

I think she’s like 5’2-5’4

Rasmodius

I think he is either like super old like hundreds of years or like a mortal person old

So maybe like 60-70

Quite a bit older than Caroline and old enough that he has lived and seen some things

Like an affair and a divorce and losing everything

Probably 6’0 exactly ngl

Jas

Also on the smaller side, and will end up like 5’2 at most when she’s older

So like 3’7 first year she is a very small BABY

She’s also the same age as Vincent so 6 or 7

Willy

I think he is old but doesn’t look it

So in his 60s-70s

Has time to fish and perfect it has time to gain things and lose things

Has lived through a LOT

I think he is 5’5-5’9

A bit on the smaller side but y’know short kings exist.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#374

“Hey!  Midnight bathroom run too?  Yeah.  I knew I shouldn’t have let my wife’s mother book this tiny inn in the middle of nowhere Germany for my honeymoon.  I live in a three-bedroom apartment in Manhattan two blocks from Central Park, and now I have to share a toilet.  I would gladly pay for a suite at a five-star hotel, but my wife likes it.  Whoever came up with “Happy wife happy life” should be shot.  "This jet lag sucks.  This is my second night here in Europe, and I haven’t shaken it.  How about you?...  You’re here a week?  Wow.  It looks like we will be competing for the toilet for a number of days.  It’s us and him in there.  That Argentinian has been in there for a bit.  I see the toothbrush in your hand; when he comes out, you can go ahead of me, as long as you are fast; I’m going to be spending some time in there.  It seems that the only way I can get to sleep is to enjoy my left hand….

“I see you smiling.  You know what I’m talking about….  Don’t be shy about it.  All guys do it.

“And the best part is as I get close, I turn on the bidet and let the warm water run across my shithole.  It’s not quite like a tongue diving in deep.  I haven’t had my ass eaten out in years….

“…You a faggot?...  Your silence makes me wonder that you might be, but your dick tenting in your robe tells me everything.  Open your robe and let me see….

“Just as I thought.  You want help me go to sleep?  Good.  Let’s go in your room.  You can brush your teeth afterwards and wash away the taste of my shithole….

“Now we are behind closed doors, you can lose the robe….  Damn you are a small fag.  How tall are you?...  I have a foot on you; I’m 6’5”.  How much do you weigh?...  I’m 290, twice your weight.  You are the size of the faggots I used to use back in grad school at Columbia.  I like them small.  I hope you like to be manhandled.  Don’t care if you don’t.

“Get on your knees fag.  Go on reach in.  Take my cock out.  Even soft, I’m bigger than your tiny four-inch pecker.  Hard, I more than double you. 

“It’s clear that there is only one man in this room, and it ain’t you.  There is only one cock in this room; yours is to be ignored.  You got that?...  Fag, you got that?...

“That’s ‘Yes Sir.’  I saw the hunger on your face in the hall when I mentioned that I loved a tongue in my shithole.  I’ve noticed the few times you’ve been checking me out as our paths crossed.  It’s the same hunger I saw on my bitch boys I used on the side when I was in grad school.  They saw a big man with a big dick, and they did whatever I wanted.  I see that hunger on your face now, and I’m expecting the same from you. 

“You drink piss….  That wasn’t a question.  Open your toilet mouth….  Take my head in.  Fuck yeah.  Relax and start swallowing….  Ahh, that feels so good.  You are a natural. 

“Is your cunt cleaned out?  Probably not.  If you can handle my cock in your throat, I’ll be back tomorrow night to sample that cunt.  Here sit on the floor with your head against the wall. 

“I want to tell you how to get me to cum.  Like I said, I was going to use the bidet to not only to clean my shithole but to make my hole feel good.  Your tongue is taking over that responsibility. 

“I haven’t had a shower since this morning, and I’ve been out all day in the sun.  My crack is going to reek.  I know you won’t mind. 

“Place a hand on each of my thighs.  Take a deep breath.  Now pay attention.  Your tongue needs to be inside my shithole pretty much all the time….  Like that.  Fuck yeah.  Don’t be alarmed if I fart on your faggot face.  It’s bound to happen. 

“Damn!  Fuck!  Your tongue is digging deep.  Faggot you know how to eat a man’s shithole.  Oh man.  I’m getting close.  But I need to sample that throat. 

“Fuck.  Hold that faggot head against the wall and open up that throat, cause I’m going right down to your stomach, all nine inches to the root. 

“Take it faggot!  Take it!  I don’t care if you gag, gasp, or even puke all over me, you are fucking taking it.  Open up that throat, dedicate that airway to me.  Oh fuck.  That’s it faggot. 

“When I’m ready to cum, it’s with your tongue in my shithole, and I want you jacking me off.  And I’m getting close.  Oh yeah!  I’m going to turn around real fast.  So close.  Hell the fuck yeah.  Get that tongue ready.  Ready?  Now!

“…Spread my cheeks and get that tongue inside me and start fucking with it.  Now reach under me and jack me off.  Fuck boy.  I’m going to cum.  Keep doing what you are doing.  Urg!  Uh!  Uh!  Fuck!  Fuck yeah!

“Oh man.  No one told you to stop.  Keep tongue fucking and jacking me.  Milk the last drops out and let them fall. 

“Faggot you did good.  I’m want to do this every night….  Ok… Ok… You can stop. 

“Whew boy.  Hand me my underwear.  And your pillow too.  The pillow is to wipe up your throat slime and remaining cum drops from my dick.  The other side is to wipe my ass.  When you go to sleep, you can smell me. 

“Whew, that was a huge load on the floor.  Start licking….  Don’t give me that look again, or I will smack you again.  That load puddled on your floor should be gold to you.  Lap it up or suck it up, I don’t care.

“Hell, you can even jack off while doing that, once I’m gone.  I don’t care. 

“You want me to come back tomorrow night?...  Good, then do as you are told.  Atta boy!  Do you have any plans for tomorrow during the day?...  You can go to a museum another day. 

“You’re doing good boy.  While you continue to lick my load, pay attention to what I have to say.  In the morning, my wife and I are heading to some castle.  Before we leave, I am going to slip an envelope under the door.  It’ll have €1500.  We are about an hour and a half from Berlin.  I want you to go there, find one of the sex shops.  I want you to purchase a bunch of items. 

“First, I want a rimseat.  You know how to eat my shithole, and you will do it again.  Find a chastity cage and have them put it on you.  Have them put the key in the same envelope and seal it.  Have them write their store’s name across the back of it.  I want that cage to be tight and most importantly, I want it to prevent an erection, not one that pushes the cage forward should that tiny thing start to grow.  Ideally I don’t want to see any bump from your tiny pecker.  You got that?  I want a collar, ankle cuffs, and wrist cuffs.  Buy about 10 meters of rope and some padlocks.  Get lube.  And I don’t know how you are going to do this but get something to clean you out.  And see if they sell teeth guards; I felt some teeth when I was in your throat.

“At midnight, keep your door unlocked.  Be wearing the collar and the cuffs.  And get a good hood and wear it.  Leather can be expensive.  I’ll bump that up to €2000 in the envelope.  If there’s money left, get me a flogger. 

“You got all that?...  Good boy. 

“Where’s your phone?  Here it is.  Good an iPhone.  Look up.  Good it unlocked.  Get back to the floor.  I’m putting my side cell number in here.  I am listing myself as ‘SIR’.  I want you to text me when you buy each item.  And have the store worker take pics of you being fitted for the cage and anything else they care to.  And if they want to use you, you will let them.

“I’m going to add you to my find my iPhone app, so I can track where you are.  So I know what text you are, what’s your area code or country code?...  215?...  Philadelphia?...  Oh boy.  My firm has me in Philly one week a month and a weekend in between.  I have an apartment near Rittenhouse square.  You perform well here, and I will be taking you on permanently. 

“Keep licking boy.  Don’t get up until every drop is in your belly.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  I need to get back to my wife.”

[spn2006]

the choice to have deans sweet nerdy baby brother played by an actor who is taller and more physically intimidating than him actually makes me so emotional. because its like oh that 6’5” man with a deep voice and a haunted look in his eyes? that’s the baby boy who dean grew up always needing to protect, whether its from bullies, monsters, or their own father. sweet baby sam who dean carried out in his arms from the house fire, who used to fall asleep with his head on deans chest before dean picked him up and carried him to bed at whatever motel they were holed up in for the week. and now that boy’s all grown up and bigger than him and dean couldn’t carry him if he tried but still he tries and tries and tries

[michael-the-candybar]

Rosekiller hc’s ‼️‼️‼️‼️ cause why not (tgere might be ones on here that are on other posts but whatever)

• evan has a cat that absolutely despises barty, for no reason whatsoever

• barty is the little spoon and i will stand by this. he cannot sleep unless he feels like he’s being suffocated by the other person

• barty does their tattoos and evan does their piercings

• there is not a moment where you would find the 2 not touching eachother. whether it’s barty whos thrown himself in evans lap and laying on top of him or it’s them holding hands with their pinky’s, there is always physical contact

• evan has a collection of random shit barty will find and give to him cause he thought it was cool

• evan dyes bartys hair

• when they first got together, barty was so scared to mess things up because this was the one person he couldn’t risk losing, which prompted evan to have to initiate a lot of things because barty didn’t want to push boundaries. especially if evans ace and he doesn’t know what’s okay and what isn’t for him

• they would totally use the room of requirment like a rage room.

• i like to think they’re both ridiculously tall but barty’s a few inches shorter. so evans hitting like 6’5-6’6 and barty is just hitting 6’2-6’3, this gives barty the excuse of stealing all of evans clothes, which are oversized to being with (actually i could see this either way tbh, depends on the day ig. today evan is taller)

• when they met in first year, evan scared the hell out of barty. he had met him through through being friends with pandora (ravenclaw barty‼️‼️), and having now 2 of them with their big bug blue eyes constantly staring and analyzing him, i wouldnt be surprised if he had a few nightmares about it

[rikaluver]

Joy Ride - Postal Dude x AFAB Reader

Genre - Smut

This is an old fic of mine, you can find it on AO3 but I don't know where since it was on my old account...Anyways, enjoy!!

The heat hits you like a wave. The sun beats down relentlessly from a cloudless sky, casting everything in a harsh, unyielding light. The gas station is a low-slung building, its faded yellow and red paint peeling in the desert sun.

You get closer and spot a tall man in a tattered black trench coat loitering near the pumps. He’s got a scruffy goatee and a wild look in his eye, and he seems to be muttering to himself as he paces back and forth.

Freak, you think to yourself. 

You push open the door, and a blast of cool air washes over you, providing a welcome respite from the scorching desert heat. It’s dimly lit inside, with rows of shelves stocked with snacks, drinks, and other random shit. There’s one other customer inside—an older man. He’s standing by idly, not looking at anything or buying anything. It’s like he’s not even there. 

You make your way to the back of the store, grabbing a few snacks and some beer (a lot of it). There isn’t much to do around in this ghost town; you spend most of your time getting drunk or high. As you return to the store's front, you notice a display of souvenirs near the register. Postcards with the Grand Canyon, refrigerator magnets, random shit with the state flag plastered on it, you name it. 

The cashier appears disconnected, staring blankly ahead and barely acknowledging your presence. As rude as it is, you snap your fingers before him to get his attention. He blinks slowly and looks at you vacantly before scanning your items. He’s moving in slow motions as if operating on autopilot. 

You don’t bother to make small talk; you know he’ll give one-word responses, not registering your words. It’s always the same with the people in Paradise. They’re like zombies. 

You finish paying and gathering your belongings, though you can’t help but feel a bit of unease. 

You feel the warm sun on your skin and the desert air in your lungs the moment you step outside. You shield your eyes from the sun's rays, waiting for your eyes to adjust. 

The people in this town stick around one place, and you rarely see them anywhere else, so when you see the guy there when you entered, smoking, it’s not a surprise. You know everyone’s face (not that there are many people, to begin with), but you can’t recognize this guy. You’re unsure if you’ve ever seen him outside, and you’d undoubtedly remember him considering his height (he’s got to be 6’5” at least).

He spots you after a while and quickly stubs his cigarette out before walking up to you. 

“You’re not one of the contaminated ones, I can tell.”

“Jesus, dude, what?”

A manic grin spreads across his face, “You’ve noticed it, haven’t you?”

You take a step back, feeling a bit uneasy. The man in front of you seems like he’s on something. And, unlike everybody else in the town, you can’t tell what his next move will be.

“There’s something in the air infecting everyone in Paradise. You and I are the only uninfected people left in this town.”

You scoff and push past him, making your way back home. You were right to think he was a freak when you first saw him. As animated as he may be, he’s still one of the crazy people around here. 

Are you the only one with a functioning brain around?

The man grabs your shoulder and turns you around effortlessly, griping you too firmly. Not only was he abnormally tall, but he was also abnormally strong. 

“I know. I know what you’re thinking—you think I’m one of them, right? Different but still crazy, yeah?” His eyes flicker between you and whatever’s behind you (you know there’s nothing and no one behind you). The look in his eyes is one of a man on the edge, teetering between madness and despair. “You can trust me, though. I thought the same when I saw you,” he punctuates each word, his grip tightening.

You feel a sharp jolt of pain through your muscles; the shit he’s saying goes in one ear and out the other. You need him to let go. The pressure is intense, and it feels like his fingers are digging deep into your flesh, leaving a mark you can feel long after he’s released his hold.  

“Yeahyeahyeah, you’re right, now let me go!” Your voice comes out more desperate than you’d like it to.

Realizing that he may have been too forceful, the man quickly lets go of your shoulder. “Sorry,” he says, a note of concern in his deep voice. “You’re willing to hear me out though, right?”

You nod, rubbing your shoulder to soothe the soreness, not considering what you just agreed to. And before you know it, the man’s taking you to his house. He introduces himself as Postal Dude. You’re not sure why he’s using a fake name if, apparently, you two are the only ordinary people around.

As you approach his home, you see it’s in disarray, with broken furniture and discarded items strewed outside. It seems The Dude has been living in survival mode, making do with whatever he can salvage. 

It’s no wonder you’ve never seen him around.

Once inside, Postal Dude leads you to a small, makeshift living room with only a few small lamps providing light, a worn-out couch, and a rickety table that needs to be flipped back up. You sit on the couch (the only “clean” place) and look at his living conditions.  The walls are bare, and the floors are made of old, creaky wood planks that groan at any pressure applied. Stacks of newspapers, empty beer bottles, and discarded food wrappers are piled up in the room's corners. There are a few personal touches here and there, a well-arranged collection of….weapons on a nearby shelf, an old game console (he doesn’t have a TV), and porno magazines! How homely!

He doesn’t sit down with you. He, instead, walks over to the window, peering out anxiously through the blinds. His posture is tense, and you can tell he’s on edge. Jesus, you can practically see the fear and anxiety emanating from him, and you wonder what he’s looking for. You assume the “infection” must make him paranoid and attentive, always looking for potential threats. 

“You okay?” you ask cautiously. 

After a few moments, he turns back to you, his expression still serious. “We need to be careful,” his voice is low and urgent.

“Uh, yeah, for sure,” you fiddle with your bag. Maybe drinking might get him to calm down (and break the silence). You take out a can of beer, you’re shocked the thing’s still cold, and hold it out to him. “Want one?”

He doesn’t reply but walks back to the couch and grabs the beer you’re offering. You watch as he cracks open a can and chugs it down like it's nothing; he lets out a satisfied sigh and sits down next to you. He seems more at ease. He grabs another from the bag, cracks it open, only taking a sip this time, and begins to ramble about the supposed infection. His tone is urgent; his words spill out quickly as if he's been waiting for someone to talk to about this for a long time.

“It's crazy out there, you know,” he says, taking a swig of his beer. “People are turning into these—these things. I don’t even know what to call them.”

You nod, taking in his words. It’s clear now that Postal Dude is fucking mental. But hey, he’s the most exciting thing around town and will have an actual conversation with you, so you decide to humor him.

"Have you seen them?"

“Yeah, all over the place, they’re slow but fuckin’ insane. If I ever let one catch me, I probably wouldn’t be here to help you. You’ve seen them too.”

“I have?”

"Yeah, back at the gas station. Two of them." He drinks the rest of his beer and goes on a tangent about…stages and stuff…to explain the ones you encountered. You give up on trying to keep track a couple of words in, and the guy talks for what feels like forever. You start chugging beers with him to cope with the total bullshit he's spewing. Nothing he's saying makes sense. You're surprised you didn't see any comic books about aliens invading Earth lying around. His imagination is way too active. Or he's delusional. He's mistaking everyday citizens who work tirelessly for people infected and trying to kill him. It's safe to say you don't believe a single word coming out of his mouth. Though, you're having fun listening to him talk. 

The Dude’s voice is deep and gravelly; he speaks in a low, measured tone, as if every word is carefully chosen for maximum impact. Even when he’s slurring his words right now, you like it. When he finally finishes his deviation, you realize how much you miss hearing him talk. 

His voice isn’t the only thing you like about him. A middle-aged man with a rugged appearance isn’t exactly who you’d go after, but his looks are eye-catching. His hair’s unkept and greasy, falling in messy strands around his face. His deep-set green eyes draw you in. In fact, he’s one of the few good-looking men in Paradise. Or you’d assume you never paid attention to looks (or sanity). Dick size was the only thing that mattered.

And speaking of dick size…

“So…what do I do?”

He slurs something you presume to be a ‘what?’

“About them going mad and attacking me, what do I do about that?” 

“Fight back.” You know the question’s stupid, and so does he, chuckling a little under his breath. “If you'd let me, I don’t mind showing you a thing or two.”

He explains some basic self-defense techniques, stuff you already know. The more he talks, the more excited you get. Something about his voice hits you hard, deep in your gut. It might be the alcohol. Who cares what it is, though?

You lean in closer, catching his lips with yours in a slow kiss. He returns the kiss in a far less passive fashion. He doesn't wait for you to acclimatize to his kiss's more aggressive tempo, brushing his tongue over your lip eagerly. The subtle taste of alcohol lingers on his lips. When he opens his mouth, and his tongue meets yours, the citrusy, bitter flavor is intensified tenfold. You groan, pushing further into the kiss. Postal Dude seems more than pleased to indulge you, playing along with your lead while his hands wander and grope at whatever’s most readily available. Down they go, over your back and shoulders to cup your ass, twisting around to knead and stroke your thighs and hips. It's as if he can't decide which part of you was the most enticing.

After some time, he wraps his hands around your waist and hoists you onto his thigh. You only now realize how tall he is; you guessed he was 6’5” at first, but he’s humongous. So is the tent in his pants!

Your hands trail down between the two of you and unbutton his trousers, and at the sight of his undergarments, you sort of raise an eyebrow. You brush your fingers against the tip of his crotch, and he lets out a hitched breath against your lips.

“You got a condom?” He pulls away from your lips and trails kisses on your collarbone.

You whimper slightly at the contact, “no…is that a deal breaker for you?”

He sighs and mumbles a “yeah” against your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s fine, man,” you shuffle him off your shoulder a bit. When he looks up at you, you raise your hand to his face, cupping his neck and rubbing your thumb under his jaw. “If you won’t fuck me without a condom, I’m down with giving you head or a handjob.”

Postal Dude considers it for a brief second before his face bores the dejected expression it did a minute ago. 

“Orrr…” you trail off.

“Or?”

“Or I could ride your thigh while you jerk off.” 

That’s an idea that sticks with him. He’s not comfortable letting anyone around his junk. If he’s ever had anyone around his junk, that is.

You watch as he takes himself out of his boxers. You gawk at the sheer size of his dick before taking it all in. It suits a man his height.

You're somewhat grateful neither of you had condoms on you; there's no way you could fit that all in you. Well, maybe you could, but you'd end up in the hospital.

Words can't express how badly you'd love to touch it (whore). But alas, you can't. Gotta respect boundaries.

As he begins touching himself, you find yourself (metaphorically) drooling at the sight. It's, like, really hot. He pants and lets out soft whines occasionally, and you eat up every part of it. After a bit, you realize you're just staring at him and not fulfilling your end of the deal (plus, you're horny as fuck, and you have to take care of that too). You start your movements on his thigh, nice and slow. You let yourself enjoy how good it feels to grind against him, albeit embarrassing. His eyes are on you, and you can't tell if he's judging you or what, but he's undoubtedly enjoying it if the way he thrusts up into his hand is any indication. 

It's humiliating. 

It's exciting.

With a slight struggle, you wrap your arms around his neck and get closer for a quick peck on the lips. 

The “supposed” peck quickly turns to making out, and one of your hands rests on his head, not keeping him there, just finding a more comfortable position. Without realizing it, your fingers run through his ginger hair, and he whines into your mouth, leaning further into the kiss. 

You pet him some more, and his hips buck into his hand each time, giving you more pleasure. It’s embarrassing for him but extremely arousing for you. 

After a while, you pick up the pace against his thigh. You vibrate as he fucks his hand, admiring how you look. It’s disgusting but oh-so intoxicating. You pant into each other, verging on each other's climaxes. The Dude cums first with a breathless grunt, and you follow, wetting his thigh. 

[sooniebby]

yichen pulling up to reader's house wearing a baggy t shirt, jogging pants, and sandals and reader not taking him seriously when he's like "im the shaman you hired" sounds hilarious

Wait—

You couldn’t believe it. You raised an eyebrow at the supposed “shaman” at your front door. He was tall, maybe 6’5? He simply walked inside your house and began looking around.

“Uh… hey, man, if you need some money I got a couple of dollars…” You said, walking after him.

The man looked at you before turning back to staring at the glass door that led to your backyard. “If you want me to find this ghost, I’d advise you to let me do my job.”

You frowned. Okay, attitude?! You stormed after him as he opened the sliding door and walked outside.

It was cold. The moon light from above shined down on you both as you watched this “shaman” look around. You weren’t even sure what he was looking for.

The ghost was inside the house..

“Really, sir..”

“Yichen.”

“Yichen… you can’t just come in my house like this. I’m waiting for the actual shaman. And almost everyone knows the shaman is an older guy.”

Yichen was crouching down when he suddenly stood up straight. You felt yourself stiffen, wondering what suddenly got his attention. He turned his head over to you.

But he wasn’t looking at you.

He was looking behind you…

You could feel the familiar chill. That feeling of something trailing its hand up your back to rest on your neck, threatening to choke you.

You didn’t know what to do, could this ghost even come outside?

It all happened so fast. The glass doors shattered as a shrieking scream was heard. You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps on the grass as something rushed towards you.

Yichen grabbed your hand and spun you away from whatever coming. He pulled something out of his pocket and it turned into a long stick with a blade at the end.

And that blade was used to slice something in half. The thing was moving so fast, you couldn’t even make out what it was. But what you could make out was the feeling of blood splatter over your face.

You coughed, disgusted that some of the blood got into your mouth. As you spat it out, you glanced up at Yichen, noticing you were in his arms.

His face was also splattered in blood as well. You could see the blood was a black substance. He helped you steady yourself before his weapon suddenly disappeared back into his pocket.

“You were wrong. It wasn’t a ghost. And the old shaman died, I took over for him. Now, if that’s all, my payment?”

He held his hand and stared straight at you. You suddenly felt odd. You could get a nice look at his face now. His hair was no longer covering his face as much as before.

His eyes were a dark brown that somehow looked pretty with the light specks of light brown mixed in with it. His long black hair was unruly and a bit curly at some ends but somehow it suits him.

Yichen’s eyebrow raised as he noticed your staring.

“My payment.”

You couldn’t help but blurt out. “You’re hot! Why are you a shaman?”

Yichen stared at you for a moment before sighing.

“If you’re done being weird, my payment”.

Dick. A handsome dick… speaking of dick… if he’s that tall…?

You shook the thought away. “I’ll send it electronically.”

Yichen seemed to hate the idea but he simply sighed. Once he used his shirt to wipe the blood off his face, you got a decent look into his abs, he was leaving.

“Wh.. wait! Can I get… your number?” You asked just as he was about to leave.

Yichen didn’t turn back to face you.

“Just focus on giving me my payment. And possibly learn the difference between ghosts and monsters. I would’ve came faster if I had known such a dangerous creature was living in your home.”

And then he was gone…

Shit… no way in hell were you going to leave it at this…

You quickly pulled out your phone and searched:

“How does one get cursed on purpose”

[asmallpinkfan3]

Hobie brown and young! troubled teen reader hcs (more like oneshot)

Note-this is the first time I’ve tried writing for him and if u get his personality wrong please forgive me.

TW: reader has issues, swearing, slight mentions of sucidal feelings. Also I’m not British so idk any slang. So if anyone is British out there I’m sorry. And I dunno if I’m gonna write more for him I gotta figure it out.

GN reader, also reader is a younger teen like 13-16

You had met him purely by accident, you ran into him while not paying attention in the spider society headquarters, he didn’t get upset really seeing that you did it by accident but it did catch his attention when you were apologizing like you had ran into Miguel.

He noticed the way your hands gripped your sleeve almost as if you were mentally beating yourself up because you ran into someone. “It’s fine”. He said with a small smile trying to assure you he wouldn’t body slam you into the concrete like your mind had overreacted because of bumping into him.

He saw you a couple more times around headquarters, spacing out,fiddling with your hands, etc. he also noticed how you stayed at headquarters a lot not seeming to wanna go home for whatever reason.

The time that you had actually got a proper introduction to him and not bumping into him or catch him looking at you was when Gwen befriended you and introduced you to him.

Overtime he kinda saw the way you would try to be near him without saying anything almost like his presence gave you comfort. He never pointed it out nor did he seem to mind when you went to his place to be around miles, Gwen, and Pav you would always sit near him.

Sometimes he caught you staring at his stuff, posters, pins, wall decor, all that. You seem to like how his place was decorated and he felt a little flattered.

The first time you had started talking to him and showing interest in his stuff by speaking was when you asked where his pins were from. “Made them myself.” He replied with a smile and you nodded in understanding. One time you had watched him play his guitar and you kinda just stood there and watched amazed at his playing, he didn’t mind. It’s not like you were being a bother just by watching with big eyes and being completely focused on it.

The first time you opened up was when you had a fight with your parents about something so small and for some reason you went to his universe. “Y/n? Mate what you-“ “can I stay here for tonight?” You cut him off before he could finish, and he noticed the tears in your eyes as it’s obvious you’re not doing too good.

“The couch is free you can sleep there for tonight.” He replied softly as he threw a blanket to you. “You caught it with a tight grip and nodded as a thanks and went to the couch and laid on it, you did have to move a pair of shoes out the way but other wise it was pretty comfortable.

In the morning you woke up to Hobie making himself some breakfast and you sat up and walked over to him, blanket still wrapped around you.

“Thank you for letting me stay the night”. You thanked him as he gave you a soft smile, he then took a sip of his coffee . “No problem mate, you wanna talk about what happened?” He asked and you sighed as you explained everything from your parents being assholes and constantly feeling like you wanna end it all.

He put his coffee down as he stared at you with a concerned look as tears started falling. “Mate, you need a hug?” He asked softly as it’s pretty much the only thing he can offer as he watched a young teen just tell him everything on why they feel like shit constantly.

You nodded as he then gave you a massive hug mainly cause he’s 6’5 and you felt safe, protected, like nothing could harm you. “I’m just tired of everything and my parents don’t help, and being a spider person it just-“ you sobbed into him as he rubbed your back keeping his voice soft and low. “Shh mate it’s ok, it’s alright your parents aren’t here and I’m not gonna judge ya, ok?”

He didn’t move or let go till you did and when you stopped crying he wanted to make sure you felt at least a little better so he tried to think. “How about this, we go get ya cleaned up and go somewhere, you ever had fish and chips?”

You shook your head as you looked up at him and he only smirked a little trying to lighten your mood. “There’s this small shop around here we can go get some, plus their food is really good not like that rubbish that big company’s produce.” He explained as it got a small smile from you. “I would like that”. You responded as you put the blanket that’s currently wrapped around you on the couch.