#cryptic clicks

[marinebiologyshitposts]

heya!! just wanted to say thank you for running such a fun blog! i've been following since i went back to school to study marine bio and i love this collection you're curating.

i can always tell when you reblogged one of my fish drawings because suddenly i get flooded with nonstop notifications— and you've certainly introduced me to a lot of great talent on this site in turn. thanks so much for helping so many tumblr artists get noticed! keep up the great work!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

sorry i just queued a billion of your posts because the catcatfish has my heart and soul in his little envenomed fin things. sorry for ur notifications

[hollow-indigo]

decided I should practice drawing Cyn

[narwhalandchill]

i swear no one hates the pale princess and the six pygmies more than anyone that tries to make sense of genshin lore for any extended amount of time

like i am starting to feel at least like 85% confident (among many others) that we might FINALLY have our first fucking semblance of a clue as to what the events depicted in it could even be with the 3rd descender lore reveals bc like. 3rd descender being the light prince just Really clicks with multiple beats in there including but not limited to the specific mention of a "curse" falling the six pygmies from the remnants of the prince like. HUH. when the gnoses made from the 3rd are also described as a curse. and thats genuinely incredibly exciting bc it feels actually plausible.

but. because this book is still the actual worst designed to torture us all. that just also makes everything even more confusing 😭 bc one fairly prevalent thing (that i personally found quite compelling) with pale princess theories was her possible identity as the seelie ancestor who fell in love with a human and led to the downfall of their race. which has always been highkey giving the night mother destroying the moonlight kingdom and cursing the people of the pale princess into an "undead state, lingering at the point between life and death forevermore". like thats Way too on the nose with how the pale princess is literally the light princes lover so. yeah seelie ancestor always a strong contender for that one. but also what the fuck does that mean for the timeline

and dont even get me started with the pygmies like. who the fuck are the pygmies it makes me want to morb. obviously a ton of theories have tried to fit the archons as the pygmies but its always been a little ehhhhhh at least when attempting to fit our current archons as a whole (+ the whole. 6 pygmies 7 archons things). but the pygmies = cursed from the princes remains part is also like. very gnosis aligned after the fontaine AQ reveals so go figure. i hate this shit 😭

i also saw a speculation on the pygmies as the sovereigns given its likely scyllas already kicked the bucket at the point the 3rd descender happened (since he was already dead when the shade of life was creating egeria) so 7 lizards turning into 6 remaining pygmies in the story has no numerical dissonance. but that keeps raising questions still bc of how gnosis coded the princes death and the ensuing curse feels!! i hate this book have i mentioned that already. but i do find it a compelling argument solely on account of how much better the sovereigns would fit the timeline of sth that happened thousands of years ago Especially if the fall of the seelie queen is involved in any form. also read a good point that some of the pygmy descriptions could arguably fit the 2 of the ancient sovereigns slash likely candidates better than any archon, specifically apep for the pygmy only caring for its own garden and azhdaha for the blind one.

but then its like. if the betrayal of the 3rd was by the defeated and remaining sovereigns it kinda makes the gnosis thing another question mark. like we still lack so much info on the connections and the timeline between the stolen thrones of authority, the war of vengeance and ensuing weakening of the POs "functions" leading to the establishment of the vision system and the archon war and where the gnoses fall in all of this. hhhhhhhhhh

so like whether the six pygmies are some assortment of archons or the sovereigns or some other group altogether we are still so utterly clueless its terrible 😭

i think the only real theory that i think ppl should just let die is tsaritsa as the pale princess tho like. lmao aintnoway hoyo will ever make a playable character who has a very good chance of being the obligatory bronya expy be someone with a canon male love interest are you hearing yourselves 💀 its not even that i think itd be like shit writing or sth im just purely asking ppl to be realistic with the unfortunate self imposed limitations of a gacha game developer. though the tsaritsa somehow having a connection to the pale princess and the events of the story (assuming its the 3rd descender debacle) would be very fascinating.

also someone noted that the exiled pygmy taking the princes body to a "tree hollow" may not be literal at all and instead imply the 3rd after being killed and turned into the gnoses being integrated into the irminsul and all ensuing samsara rebirth cycles which.... interesting.

anyway. i hate pale princess and the six pygmies!!!!!

[butterfirefly]

The rap part in Mastermind though 🔥💯

[cyncerity]

Hi all! School is starting back up for me tomorrow, so i just wanted to get one more story out before my first day of senior year! i feel old!

anyway, more dads troubles au, now with more characters!! this takes place before the events of Finding Family btw, but i hope you like it!!

tw: dehumanization

It pained Schlatt to go to a pet store of all things to buy things for his son. His son wasn’t a pet, but it’s not like he could convince anyone else of that fact. However, as much as his son liked having a few things his size, like containers and blankets, he weirdly preferred to use human sized things. Schlatt just guessed that that was probably a product of his odd upraising, but he wouldn’t complain. He would rather buy tiny things for his son at Homegoods or Claire’s or Hobby Express or something. However, this time, he wasn’t here for his son.

A few days ago, Tubbo had managed to drag a phone through the doorway (doorway was a loose term, it was more a hole in the wall) of Tommy and Ranboo’s home and take a few pictures of what it looked like, and oh god. It had pained Schlatt and the other humans to see teenagers living in practically trash. The two slept on mats for fucks sake, no blankets or anything. And no matter how much they insisted they didn’t need help, Schlatt felt some form of responsibility to make sure they were well taken care of. Whether that’s because they were his son’s best friends or because they spent practically all of their time at his apartment at this point he didn’t know, but he unfortunately could only find borrower “essentials” at the pet store.

He had checked everywhere else for little things for the boys home (once again, the term home was used loosely), like little lanterns and decorative things, since the only light they had came from cracks in their walls and the only “decorations” they had were scraps that they took from Sapnap and Karl before they were discovered, but the two also needed beds. Schlatt knew from experience that the only normal beds for borrowers were found at pet stores, since none of the dollhouse beds he or Quackity ordered for Tubbo when they first adopted him were apparently comfortable and were mostly for show, which is how Tubbo ended up sleeping on a beanbag, and why he now refused to try sleeping on anything else. At least the beds the pet store sold could be slept on. And, if they weren’t good enough quality wise, he could always add more blankets or bedding, and at least they’d be the right size.

He walked down the aisle of borrower items and picked up the beds, ashamed that he wasn’t the only one in the aisle. A woman was there with a child that couldn’t be much older than 5, who was picking up random items in the aisle as the mom just watched with a satisfied smile. Schlatt scoffed to himself as he walked out of the aisle, knocking over a stack of food bowls only because the sight of such a dehumanizing thing for borrowers was pissing him off. “Oh, excuse me sir!” Schlatt heard as he was tapped on the shoulder, turning to face the mother of the little kid who was now placing what looked like a hampster running wheel in his shopping basket. “My kiddo here just graduated first grade, and we were just looking for a little gift! Would you happen to know where they keep the tinies at?”

Schlatt just stared. Oh no. This kid was actually around 5, and this woman was preparing to give him a person. Letting a toddler have full control over someone else’s life. He looked back behind her and saw the kid run in from another isle holding rabbit pellets and put them in the basket. Oh, no fucking way he was gonna let this happen. “Uh..well, I’ve heard bor- tinies can be a lot of work, have you thought about maybe a fish or something?” But the woman just laughed. “Oh the whole class got fish when they graduated, ours just didn’t make it long. Y’know how fish can be.” She laughed again as Schlatt felt his stomach drop. No, he didn’t, but from what he could tell, this kid was getting a replacement pet for the fish he killed from probably either starvation or negligence. The woman, fully unaware of Schlatt’s inner conflict, continued. “I’ve heard that tinies have better lifespans, and are great with socializing! My baby here can be a bit rough with the other kids on the playground, and I think a tiny would really help!”

“Well, I’m so sorry, I don’t think this store has tinies.” Schlatt said. He didn’t care what he was getting himself into, he refused to let some poor borrower be tortured by this toddler. He’d buy every borrower in this goddamn store if it kept this little shit from getting one. The woman went to speak up again before Schlatt turned away, muttering some lame excuse about trying a puppy or something before speedwalking off. Fuck. Where did they keep the borrowers here? He shoved the beds into his pocket, and he looked through almost every isle before finally reaching the back of the store where he found a giant sign reading “tinies” and another big sign that read “Sale: All Tinies 75% Off!!” Schlatt sighed in relief when he realized the cages were empty, ignoring the implications of that and just hoping that the store just hadn’t found many (or hopefully any) recently. At least, all but one of the cages were. He almost turned to leave before a flash of moving green caught his eye. In the top corner cage, covered by what looked like bedding for a guinea pig or something, one last borrower was hiding, looking starved and tired. He looked older than any borrower Schlatt had ever met, and the flash of green he’d seen came from the almost robe looking thing the borrower was wearing, but what surprised him was his blonde hair and striking blue eyes, giving him an odd feeling of familiarity that he couldn’t quite place. Schlatt looked around and didn’t find any employees to ask about a purchase but, to his horror, the woman and her child where moving closer. In a panic he looked around and noticed the borrowers cage didn’t have a lock. The store probably assumed it wouldn’t attempt an escape from it’s height. And wouldn’t luck have it, there was a ladder nearby.

He quickly dragged the ladder closer, wincing at the screeching it made across the floor. Thankfully, only the borrower seemed to notice. The blonde stood up from where it had been hiding, backing up against the cage until he seemed to notice Schlatt’s lack of store uniform. As Schlatt climbed the ladder, he saw the borrower take a few weary steps forward towards the front of the cage. As Schlatt made it to the top, he lifted the top off the cage and the borrower immediately dropped to the ground, curled in on himself on his knees with his hands over his head. Schlatt just laid his hand flat next to him. “Look, buddy, I’m not gonna grab you, I’m not that kinda guy. But if you don’t get on you’re gonna get bought by a manic toddler and, let me tell you, I saw what they were gonna buy for you, and it’s fucking disgusting. I can help you if you let me get you the fuck outta here.” The borrower looked up, a look of shock on his face, before it quickly changed to a grim determination as he climbed onto Schlatt’s hand. He carefully lifted the borrower up from the tank and held him to his chest as he practically jumped off the ladder. He quickly made his way out of the store, at this point just throwing caution to the wind and shoplifting the beds, too. Why the fuck should he give money to this place, anyway?

He finally made it to his car, placing the borrower into the cup holder that Tubbp had already decked out into another seat of the car. Unsure of what to do now, the two sat in silence for a minute, before the borrower finally spoke up, after analyzing the car. “So, um…do you..have..another borrower? You seem to have a lot of stuff in the car for people like me.” Schlatt just laughed. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, man. I’m part of the minority that see borrowers as people, my son’s one of you. I don’t normally go to stores like that, but it’s not like big retailers sell things for kids like mine. I’m sorry we had to meet like that, I’m Schlatt. You?” And immediately, it seemed like all tension drained out of the car, as the borrower started to laugh and Schlatt saw his shoulders visibly drop. “You have no idea how long it’s been since I was called a borrower, I’m so fucking tired of the word ‘tiny.’” He sighed. “I’m Philza, but you can call me Phil. I get it, mate, my family’s not too normal either.”

That last bit caught Schlatt’s attention. “What do you mean?“ “My sons and my wife. I have two biological, well, now one biological, and one adopted, and I hope to god they aren’t too worried about me. My wife has been taking good care of them, I’m sure, but I worry. It’s been a while since I got taken. But my wife and my adopted son are both human.” Schlatt nodded and tried to keep from prying, but his curiosity got the better of him. “What happened to your son? If you don’t mind me asking of course.” Schlatt said, still caught up on the fact that this poor man had lost one of his kids. He was sure if he ever lost Tubbo he’d barely be able to function. But this guy had a family to get back to, he supposed. He probably had to be strong for them. “Not at all, mate, it’s been a while. I can tell you’re a good guy.” Phil responded, smiling, though his eyes held a deep sorrow that couldn’t fade with age, proving to Schlatt that he was right about the man only really pretending to be ok. “My boy was young when the older of the two did something really stupid at my old colony. I stood up for him, and it got the both of us kicked out, and they kept me from my son. Something about how the colony wasn’t doing great and the more laborers they had, the better. Makes me sick. But lord knows he wouldn’t have listened. He was stubborn, would’ve gotten on great with my wife, plus he had my genes. Wouldn’t have made a good worker anyway.”

Schlatt felt uneasy as he took notice of the borrowers traits again, though in more than he had in the store. Slightly pointed ears, thin tail, slitted eyes and clawed fingers. From what Tubbo had told him about borrower genes or job types or whatever, that meant that this guy was built to be a hunter, with the exception of his ears.

“So..uh…where do you live, then?” Schlatt asked, trying to change the topic to distract himself and Phil especially from the uncomfortable topic. “Down at an apartment complex a few minutes away…” he responded as Schlatt finally began to leave the pet store parking lot. He listened to Phil’s admittedly not great directions (basically Phil describing what he’d seen out the window of a car when his wife had drove him there to move in) for a few minutes before eventually making it back to his own home. “Oh, you live at my apartment! That’s great, man, what are the odds!” Schlatt said, getting out of the car and grabbing the beds he had ‘bought’ earlier before placing a hand out for Phil. Phil barely hesitated before climbing on, making Schlatt smile. “Small world, i guess,” Phil said as they began to walk into the building. “I live on the first floor, so you can drop me off at a nearby vent and i’ll know how to get home.” Schlatt nodded as he slipped Phil into the jacket pocket not containing the small beds and walked in. He nonchalantly made his way to a vent on the ground before kneeling to the ground next to it gently taking Phil out again, doing his best to shield the borrower from view with his body. “This good?” he whispered, still treating his best to keep people from looking his way. “Perfect.” Phil said with a more genuine smile than Schlatt had seen out of him in the admittedly short time he’d known him.

“Great! By the way, im in room 518, if you ever need anything. I know it may be a hassle to get there, but i mean it, man. You ever need supplies or just someone to talk to or anything, i’m open. In fact, here,” Schlatt said, ripping a tag off of one of the borrower beds as he began writing on it, “here’s my number.” Phil took it and smiled, looking up at the human. “Thanks, mate. I may just have to take you up on that, it’d be nice to have someone else who knows how i feel sometimes. Family’s like ours aren’t common, and we haven’t been here long enough to know many people around the apartment yet. And, again, thank you so much, it’s because of you i can see my kids again, i don’t know how to repay you-“

“Don’t worry about it, Phil, just happy i could help.” he said, standing back up. “Take care, alright?” “Will do.” Phil replied, taking the grate off the vent and slipping behind it with a wave. “See you later, Schlatt!!” Schlatt waved back and went to the nearest elevator to his apartment. He had some kids he had to surprise with actual beds.

[pumpkinsouppe]

Trying to make an art board for Trucy bc I thought she’d be the easiest to find insp for, considering her entire playing card/magician aesthetic, but oh my god this is so much harder than I thought

[ccervidae]

It is only in hindsight that I realize that of course Legrasse (Actor feat, went to Fantasy Juilliard, formed warlock pack by picking up Faeruns equivalent of The Yellow King) would look at the mysterious man who introduced himself by reciting poetry and only answers questions cryptically and decide "Yes, I like him" and then not think critically about it even after learning Raphael is a devil.

[citymiddled]

elluin finally had her one (1) allotted breakdown where she cut all her hair off and astarion immediately confessed his feelings to her

[elitheaceofalltrades]

Unsolved Case - Game Review

Happy Saturday!

It's been a while since I did a game review but my friend and I played a co-op point and click puzzle game for the first time last weekend and I thought I'd talk about it. The game is called Unsolved Case, it's by Eleven Puzzles and it's free to play on steam.

The game was fairly simple and the puzzles easy. Not so easy that you were bored but simple enough to not be that much of a challenge. This was definitely a chill fun co-op than a hardcore mystery or master puzzler.

It took us about 63 minutes to complete the game in total (the devs said 30-60 so just over), which is inclusive of any cut scenes. The cutscenes were pretty interesting and were voice acted which was nice. I wouldn't say that we struggled much with any of the puzzles, though the forklift puzzle took us some time. Actually, i did struggle a bit with the TV guide puzzle as well, because (mild spoiler) I was treating it as connect the dots as opposed to bingo.

The mechanics were easy and I had a fun time playing with my friend. Both parties are required to have a copy of the game but it is free to play. You also need some way to communicate with your partner externallly as the game itself does not support audio communication. We used discord but you could use whatever calling method works best for you.

My biggest problem with the game was how it ended. The game was advertised as the prequel to the Cryptic Killer Series, however in my opinion it was a prologue to that storyline as opposed to a prequel. I'm not sure if it's a mistranslation as I know Eleven Puzzles is based in Poland or a miscommunication because I'm used to books instead of game. In my mind, a prequel is usually a book/series that is set prior to main storyline and usually used to give backstory. Where as a prologue is more the preface/introduction to a story or act. They're both similar but a prequel can be taken my itself whereas the prologue cannot exist without the rest of the work. Maybe I'm wrong in how there terms are defined and used, particularly in gaming space, but that is how I understood them going into this game. And by those standards, this game is a prolgue, not a prequel.

Unsolved Case cuts off on a cliffhanger which apparently continues in Unboxing the Cryptic Killer (which is Cryptic Kill Series Part 1). That was very much a let down and we were both startled when it ended as we felt it ended rather abruptly. (We both actually went "it ends here?" simultaneously😂😂). I get that it was supposed to entice you to play the original game but I would have preferred they call it a prologue or demo or teaser as opposed to a prequel so that i could have expected it would have had an open ending as opposed to being a game by itself. In fairness to them, Unboxing the Cryptic Killer is only like £5 and less than $10 in USD, CAD or AUD but still. If it's a free to play demo, call it that. Again though, this could simple be a miscommunication since I'm not a gamer or since English isn't their mothertongue. Still though, it unsettled me enough to take half a star off.

All in all it was a pretty fun hour of our day and it was a good low stress way to spend time together but I wouldn't play it again. Given that my final rating of this game is about 3.5 stars!

Final Rating: ⭐⭐⭐

(There isn't a half star emoji and that makes me to sad.)

~Eli

Ace of All Trades, Pro at None😆

[marinebiologyshitposts]

I'm currently developing a VN game that has a world completely occupied by fish people, but my question is: if there is a ruler/god of fish world, what kind of sea creature would it be?

well that's ultimately up to you! personal vote is some kind of ancient ammonite guy but that's personal preference ofc. sharks or whales are the obvious answer, but a squid or octopus would be a fun twist also. but choose what fits your setting!

[bleakyblues]

the hardest thing about editing a fic list I've found out is that you keep getting distracted by the fics you're trying to rec

[vanderilnde]

you buy a second-hand laptop from a dodgy craigslist user only to make a carnal discovery hidden between the files.

cw for anal sex, face fucking, pet play, choking, masturbation, noncon filmed sex, overall dubcon, reader is fujoing out

ghoap (x reader)

-

You saw it in a flitting advertisement. Used Acer Aspire V5, female buyers only, and didn’t hesitate to contact the poster.

Ghost was his screen name. Macabre, but not something to dwell on because he’s selling the only affordable hand-me-down you can find. He insisted on meeting at a hole-in-the-wall pub, beneath a metal sheet awning. There’s a cigarette pinched between his lips as you approach, an overripe mask rolled over his broken nose.

“You’re our bird?” He asks in a Manchester hint, exhaling a plume of off-white smoke.

You stifle over that operative word—our—but push through it and meekly nod, preening at his feet.

Beneath the predatory glint of his eyes, you realize you’ve gravely miscalculated the calibre of this situation. Meeting a complete stranger in a gritty alleyway and waiting to pick up his scrap-metal laptop, all because it satisfies your budget.

“Yeah…” you mumble. Try to make yourself invisible even though it’s redundant—he already towers over you, his shadow eclipsing your body, his heat drinking you in.

“‘ere it is,” he grunts. “You’ve got our cash?”

You hand him the crumpled wad of paper, squirming as he passes his thumb over his tongue and folds through the money, counting it with a mean curl of his lips.

“That’s– is everything alright?”

He stuffs the money into his jacket and expells a deep prusten sound, like an idle predator. “Fine. Pleasure doin’ business with you, bird.”

Ghost turns on his mud-clogged boot and strays off, letting the shadows swallow him whole. You hold the bulky laptop to your chest and wield it like a weapon on your way home, finally settling into bed, ready to examine your new purchase.

The hinges creak as you pull it open. A grimace splits your cheeks at the dust crusted in the margins, the rings of juice gummed to the mousepad.

A few letters from the keyboard are missing, and a few strips of tape look dog-eared, peeling from the corners, exposing the laptop’s internal wiring. Gossamer-like, spiderweb cracks work across the edges. The screen is a blotchy eyesore, striated with horizontal lines.

You have to beat your knuckles on the laptop to keep it from jamming. You navigate the desktop with simmering irritation, invaded by the inkling that you’ve been utterly scammed. Nothing matches the photos advertised on Ghost’s account, and just as your annoyance is about to ripen into white-hot anger, something catches your eye.

It’s nestled into a nook on the desktop. It’s an unnamed folder that stares back at you, unassuming, the icon already half-opened and waiting to be examined.

You double click it, more like triple click, actually, since the mousepad decides to cramp, and squirm as the folder flares over the screen. It’s a collection of videos, their thumbnails all spotty and dark, eclipsed by the thumb of whoever’s holding the camera.

Their titles are as cryptic as their photos.

wet.avi; tail_plug.avi; no_prep.avi; with_price.avi.

You find yourself scrolling lower, your fingers working against the mousepad like a rapidly unfurling spool of thread. You decide to investigate one of the videos, one with a foggy, filmy thumbnail, and carefully heed the title before poising your finger above the open function.

johnny_leash.avi

The video is grainy, as if it was imported from a camcorder rather than a phone. The first few seconds are a blurry with grey-scale strobes running across the screen, radiating an aura of seediness that makes a hint of discomfort sink like sediment in your stomach, adhering to your viscera. A deep, damp squelching sound peals out, tempered with the sticky noise of something being broken in, hollowed out.

The camera ebbs, settles, then focuses all at once. You think you’re going to faint.

It’s someone’s puffy ass getting stretched out on a fat cock. It puckers and tightens with each piston-paced thrust, red.

A large hand belonging to the person recording enters the frame. Their hand tattoos stretch as they split their palm across the hind of their spine, the cameraman’s fingers digging sickle-shaped scratches into their back, clawing them down on their battering ram of a cock.

“Quit whinin’, Johnny,” the voice behind the camera loudly grunts.

The one getting split open, Johnny, snivels into the pillow. His spine is curved into the mattress, his ass pert and sticking in the air, rippling with the force of the cameraman’s hips.

A plume of dust travels over the screen, fleetingly concealing the image. When the soot thins into the air and bares the salacious material of the video, you gasp.

There’s a glint caught on something silver from the feeble lightning. It’s a chrome-plated chain, you see, connecting to Johnny’s throat. A leather collar cutting into his ruddy skin. The leash is wrapped around the cameraman’s hand like a reel, and each time he tugs, pulling his hand back as if winding up for an attack, Johnny gets peeled off the bed, his back arching so deep you’re sure it’s close to snapping.

“Shit, Simon—!” He squeals. “Can ye… slow down?”

The aforementioned Simon grunts. Animalistic, like a rabid predator. The camera whirls, the unromantic colours of the room they’re in bleeding into each other, and when it focuses, you see Simon’s large palm splayed against the back of Johnny’s half-shaven skull, gripping his hair, pushing him into the bed.

The man flails like a fish out of water, struggling under his hand. It prompts an emergency response out of you—the way he’s being fucked into the mattress, no doubt pressing a Johnny-shaped chalk outline like the ones at crime scenes into the bedding. Alarm seizes you, and the thought of submitting this to the authorities trumpets like strobe lights in your mind.

The video is written with inept non-professionalism, reeking with the sentiment of a found-footage horror film that it’s not the authenticity that rattles your bones like a wind chime, but the morality.

You tell yourself to stop the video, but as the thought squeezes itself between your ears, Johnny’s hoisting his neck back and peering into the camera, his striking-blue eyes flaring in all-encompassing horror. His lips pop open and wrap around a soundless scream, warbling.

“Yer recordin’ me?”

“Smile for the camera, Johnny,” Simon pants. “Who knows who might see this, right?”

Simon shoots his hand up and bullies his fingers past Johnny’s lips. He sinks his nails into the round of his mouth, stretching his cheek back into a repugnant curl. It’s paradoxial—how Johnny’s mouth is pulled into a smile, but his eyes are wide and wet, wordlessly begging.

Your body betrays your moral plight.

Your rapt ocular vein, the signals rushing to your mind, your nipples stiffening in your shirt. You feel as though you’re made of livewire, not matter, as you watch Johnny’s ass get spread open on Simon’s cock, his eyes rolling like unruly billiard balls to the back of his head.

His ass is red and patchy, burning up. Simon’s hand swats through the air and makes the sound of a whistle, flaring into a booming crack of thunder whenever he brings it down on Johnny’s ass. It makes you jump. Makes you feel as if your ass is being abused by proxy just by sitting, and watching raptly.

Instead of inching your hand towards the button that exits the video, your hand dips below your waistband and moves to cup your cunt.

The gusset of your panties is already hot, clinging to your dewy core. It sticks to your pussy, baring your puffy lips and swollen clit. You give it a few slaps and rub your fingers languidly, pace quickening.

But the video abruptly ends before the ascent to your pleasure is able to materialize. You yank your hand from your pussy, smearing your arousal on the mousepad as you search for another video.

You don’t heed the title—face_fuck.avi—before clicking it and readily spreading your legs, flushing at the sound of your lips parting.

The video starts, and you swear it feels like you’ve been hit with a brick.

Simon—or Ghost, you now recognize—is a behemoth. Huge would be an understatement for him. The camera is set up this time, somewhere across the room, but Simon still just barely fits within the margins. He’s folded over Johnny who sits on his knees with his back against the wall, his neck hoisted up at him.

Simon’s cock is fat and heavy. He’s hard—this, you’re sure of because of how red his balls are—yet still, his cock droops with weight, the bulbous tip scarcely teasing Johnny’s lips.

“You want your snack, boy?”

Johnny nods. He darts his tongue out and tries kitten licking the slit, but Simon isn’t having that. He grips the base of his dick and swats it against Johnny’s cheek, slapping him, the noise so thick and resounding it sounds like a palm that breaks his skin, not a cock.

“Greedy bitch,” Ghost snarls—you decide that name is more seemly for him—“Can’t wait when it comes to dick, huh?”

Johnny’s lips part, a response poised behind his chattering teeth. However, his reply gets snuffed out and shoved to the back of his throat as Ghost feeds him his cock, slamming into him with one, slick motion.

Johnny’s head hits the wall, his face puckering as pain blooms behind his skull. The action makes his jaw clench, clamping down on Simon’s cock, but Simon is quickly gripping his hair and puppeting his head back, sliding his cock deeper, until the tuft of steel-wool hair on his pelvis brushes Johnny’s nose.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Ghost grunts. “No teeth.”

The only mercy Johnny is afforded is when he sinks his nails into the sinews of Ghost’s thighs, scratching him striated, trying to offset the burn in his jowls. The back of his head thumps dumbly against the wall with each of Ghost’s jackhammering thrusts, his smaller cock springing up and slapping against his navel.

You keen. Rub your clit a little faster, tease your forefinger around your winking hole as spit and precome sticks to Johnny’s chin the same way your juices strings your fingers together. Johnny goes lax and the video abruptly ends, and you almost feel yourself going crazy, hastily exiting the video because you miss the phantom sensation around your cunt getting stretched. You click on another video that has your heart jumping to your throat.

It’s dated from just yesterday, two days after you placed the order with Ghost.

breeding_my_boy.avi

Your panties are completely soaked through at this point. The image of Johnny folded like origami under Ghost, eclipsed by his body, makes you gush. His knees are pressed against his ears and his ass is in the air while Ghost tugs his cock, towering over him and pressing his tip against his hole, slowly sinking into him.

Simultaneously, you hook two of your fingers up your cunt. Your arousal seeps out and pools into the divots between your knuckles, hot and wet, making a sucking sound as you draw your fingers out and thrust them back in, pawing your walls.

Ghost pulls his cock to the tip before driving himself back inside. He’s deeply-seated, knocking the air out of Johnny’s lungs with each stroke. Ghost draws his thighs close for leverage and sinks his fists into the bed, on either side of Johnny before snapping his hips, feeding him his whole cock.

You sink your other hand below your pants and blindly sweep at your clit, watching with keen eyes as Johnny gets pounded into the mattress, his legs thrashing dumbly with the force, his hands twisting into the moth-eaten sheets because he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands and according to Ghost, he’s “not allowed to touch his cock.”

You can barely see Ghost’s sweat in the coarse-grained, gritty video filter. It comes out as glistening dew, dribbling down his neck and onto Johnny’s cheek, to which he swiftly laps up.

It’s the same thing for Johnny’s tears—sparkling in the soft smoulder of light, smearing like spread as Ghost works his rough tongue against his cheek, licking up his brine.

Johnny’s whimpers and the crack of flesh against flesh emanate out of the janky laptop as tinny, thin. However as Ghost lowers his head, grumbling against the hull of Johnny’s ear, whispering, the thin sound travels out of the speakers and punctures your stomach.

“Wish I could breed you, pup…”

Pleasure gyrates in your belly, frothy. You curl your toes into your mattress and buck into your fingers, feeling your orgasm beginning to crest. You pinch your clit the same way Ghost snakes his hand low, trapping the tip of Johnny’s cock between his fingers to squeeze.

“Smile a’ the camera, dog,” he mutters. Takes him by the jaw and dimples his cheeks as he makes Johnny look into the lens, his eyes glossed over.

“Y’reckon she’s touching herself?” Ghost growls. “Watching you turn a mess?”

Your orgasm is on the edge now. Ghost looks at the camera, his eyes glowing like predators do on trail cams, a swill of molten rushing through you. He looks like he did beneath the awning—animalistic, as he seems to stare directly at you, snapping into Johnny’s ass.

“m gonnae come…” Johnny whimpers.

Ghost chokes his hand around Johnny’s cock, sliding his hand up and down to the pace of his thrusts. And with what happens next, your body girdles, throwing itself into the throes of your panoramic orgasm.

It’s Johnny. Bending his back off the bed and squeezing his thighs. He moans your name—your screen name—the one used to purchase the laptop. He treats it like something to bite on to defer the pain of his orgasm, trembling.

Thick ropes of come shoot from his cock just as an off-white liquid escapes you, splattering over the screen. You’re quivering as Ghost fills Johnny, watching as his balls tighten and breathe like a pulse as he comes inside.

The three of you are miraculously synchronized. Your laboured breaths simmer, thinning into nothing, as the two of them turn to look at the camera.

You undertake the decision to keep the laptop.

And a week later while browsing Craigslist’s homepage, you stumble across a familiar username.

Posted by Ghost 32 minutes ago.

Looking for a flatmate in Manchester. Two roommates. Three bedroom. Females only. Serious inquiries only.

A second doesn’t pass before you’re writing up your application.

[flamingpudding]

Cassiopea and Orion

Ellie had a plan. She promised she had one. This wasn't like when Clocky would sent her off on a mission through time with nothing more but a little note with a cryptic message on what to do.

Danny had given her clear instruction. Before one of her many travels to see the world, Danny, in his mid twenties and she in her late teens, had taken her aside once. Telling her about specific instruction she should follow, should she ever find herself in a moment of need, and Danny wasn't able to help her.

Well, now she was in that kind of situation. Amity Park was destroyed with no survivors. Vlads castle was no more. Both Dan and her got deaged, but Dan had to be put in a frozen state when he started to destabilize. And Danny, he had gotten captured by the GIW shoving her out of harms way and telling her to remember what he told her before.

Ellie was pretty sure Danny was telling her to follow the emergency instructions.

So here she was now. In Gotham. Keeping to the shadows and trying to find her way around.

No one ever bothered to tell her how hard it was to navigate through a city like Gotham. You would think it would be easy to find some guy running around at night in an armored spandex furry costume.

But no, here she was, in a random alley. In a city, Danny had specifically told her to avoid it unless the emergency instruction came into play. Maybe she should just steal a map.

She was contemplatingly staring at a gas station for that until she noticed a shadow jumping over the roof tops. It took her only a second to decide on her next action. Ellie was pressed on time after all.

"Hey you!" She shouted loudly flying up to follow that shadow. "Wait up!"

Thankfully, the shadow listened and stopped on the next rooftop toward her. She insanity noticed it tensing. Now, she noticed that the shadow was a kid. He looked small, and Ellie figured he was probably around 11 or 12.

"You are one of the Bees and Birds, right?" She questioned once she floated a bit closer. Also the kid tensed up.

"You mean Bats and Birds." The kid clicked his tongue at her, crossing their arms.

"Bees, Bats, who cares. My question is you know the big bad bee, right?" She waved the kid of, she had more pressing matter than getting their animals right. "I need to get a message to him."

The kid clicked their tongue once more, huffing and muttering something she couldn't hear. Probably talking to someone on a com. Either way, Ellie took his silence as a form of telling her to continue.

"Can you tell the big bad bee-" "Bat" "-the following?" She ignored the kid cutting in trying to get her message across and follow Danny's instructions to a T.

"Cassiopea is calling out to Orions Nursery before Rho dies to help her youngest."

There was long, drawn-out silence, and the kid was hissing something into coms. Ellie fidget with her finger nervously. Going through Danny's emergency instructions through her mind again until she hear a thud close to her and wirled around.

With wide blue glowing eyes, she looked up at the man dressed like a bat for a couple of seconds before taking on a defensive position. Eyes now narrowed at the man that was clearly studying her.

"I was under the impression that Phantom's youngest child was older. You appear to be no older than five."

"Yea well shit happened!" She shot back, still unsure if she could trust the man even if he mentioned Danny's hero alias. Her hands started to glow slightly as she prepared to attack in case things went back. But the man didn't appear to be phased by it. Not like the kid that was tensing up.

"You will be safe with us. But what happened to Phantom?"

Ellie eyes flicked over to the other kid that had now come closer to stand next to the bat guy before looking back to the big guy. She did not drop her stance yet. Still unsure of how much trust she can put here despite what Danny had told her, she had not yet heard the right response.

The man appeared to sense her distrust, as he kneeled to be on eye level with her. "Jupiter and Rho Cas will not be harmed. Orion gave Cassiopea his word."

Finally, Ellie relaxed, dropping her defensive stance but still watching the man with narrowed eyes. She hesitated a short moment before carefully saying her next words, hoping the man knew enough to k ow the grave meaning behind them.

"Phantom lost his haunt."

[irisintheafterglow]

hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”

i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏

keeping it in the family

wc: 1.6k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven

note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera. 

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced. 

“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.” 

“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?” 

“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”

“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”

“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him. 

“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?” 

“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”

“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”

“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”

“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”

“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste. 

“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke. 

“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”

“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.” 

“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”

“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.

“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.” 

“I think I’d rather die–”

“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?” 

“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”

“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.

"That would be so awesome."

“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”

“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki. 

“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”

“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”

“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”

“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”

“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”

“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”

“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”

“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.

“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”

"Dude, just ignore them."

“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

“You think I don’t get into relationships?”

“Bakugo…”

“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”

“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then–

“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."

"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."

“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.

“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles. 

“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”

“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”

“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”

“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[lizzie-boo]

Baby, You're My Type

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Words: 804

Summary: When someone unexpected asks you on a date it brings some new information to light. And long-overdue conversations are had.

A/N: Slowly getting back into writing, I'm very rusty so please bear with me. Hope you enjoy it. I should have a few more small fics coming out in the next few days while I still have some time off.

The Hellfire club was just finishing up a section of their campaign when you burst through the door, eager to share your news. You throw yourself into an open seat, leg bouncing as you wait for Eddie to stop talking. You lean over the table, fingers tapping as you stare at your best friend. 

As soon as he closes his mouth the words were spilling out, “The funniest thing ever just happened.” 

Everyone begins packing their things and Eddie quirks a brow in your direction. When all you do is stare at him with a wide grin he gestures for you to continue. 

“Jason just asked me on a date,” you laugh as the rest of the room goes quiet. The older members of the group are quick to rush out the door not wanting to see where this conversation goes. Dustin on the other hand stops shoving papers into his backpack and settles in, ready to watch the drama. 

Lucas and Mike tug at his arms, not wanting to stick around longer than necessary. “Let’s go,” Mike hisses. His eyes darting between you and Eddie.  

"Now," Lucas urges.

“I want to see how this plays out,” Dustin whines, catching your attention. Your laughing dies as you take in the worried look of the younger group members and realize that maybe your news wasn’t as funny as you thought. 

“You should go out with him.” You whip around, eyes wide. The click of the door behind you is all you need to let you know that only you and Eddie are left to finish this conversation. 

You open and close your mouth, trying to figure out the right combination of words. Something that will get through to Eddie and let him know just how ridiculous he is being. Before you can find the words Eddie continues, “I mean you do seem excited about it.” 

Finally you stand up and make your way toward him, leaning on the table just in front of his chair.  Your fingers wrap around the edge of the table, gripping it tight. 

“I was only excited to share the news because it’s crazy and I found it funny.” 

“I don’t see what would be that funny about it.” He leans forward in his seat. The small gap between you grows smaller but neither of you back down. The smell of his cheap cologne floods your senses and for a moment you forget what you are talking about. 

“He’s not my type, not even close to my type. Everyone knows that, so it’s funny that he thought he would ever have a chance.” The way you lips quirk up at the end of your sentence is not missed by Eddie. His eyes practically glued to your lips as you speak. 

“Are you sure, he seems like he would be your type.” There’s an edge to his voice that has you gripping the table harder. How can he still think that you would be into someone like Jason when you have always made it clear that you would never be caught dead with someone that arrogant. 

You chew on your lip, contemplating if you really want to say what you’re about to. Taking a deep breath you tell Eddie, “My type is metalheads, with crazy hair, tattoos, and a love for nerdy things like dungeons and dragons.” 

He taps his fingers against the arm of his chair, pretending to think about your revelation. You scan the room, trying to find anything to hold your attention so you can avoid looking at Eddie. 

“I thought you said everyone knew your type, but I never knew that’s what you’re into.” He stands from his chair inching ever closer. His warm breath hits your face and finally you turn your gaze back to him. 

Your heart flutters as you take him in up close. Mustering all the courage in you, you tell him, “I made it painfully obvious for so long, but in case you still can’t see it this should help.” 

He quirks a brow at your cryptic words and you bunch your hands in his shirt pulling him closer. Pressing your lips into his you let out all the pent up emotion you have been holding in. His arm slips around your waist pulling you closer as his other slides up to cup your cheek. 

When you pull back, you can’t help but to smile. “In case it still wasn’t clear, you’re my type Eddie, just you.” 

“Hmm, I never would’ve guessed,” he jokes. “That’s good though, ‘cause baby, you're my type too.” 

Lifting you slightly he sets you fully on the table intent on making up for lost time. As your lips find his you wrap your legs around his waist and get lost in the happiness of finally being with Eddie.